Preacher Roe Savors His Memories

Sometimes when he’s weeding his tomatoes or fishing for a trophy bass, Preacher Roe can’t help but wonder what his left arm in its prime would be worth in the major leagues today.

At least $1 million a year, perhaps more. Roe smiles and shakes his head. The most money he made in a season in his 12-year career that ended in 1954 was $28,500. When he won 22 games in 1951, he got a $2,500 raise.

“I really like to brag about this: I was the highest-paid pitcher in Brooklyn Dodger history one time,” Roe said. “I thought $28,500 was the greatest thing there ever was. Back then, it was. A man making $10,000 or $12,000, those were good wages.”

But Elwin (Preacher) Roe, 73, says he wouldn’t trade his baseball memories for a million dollars.

Roe, a product of the Ozark hills of northern Arkansas, compiled a 127-84 record pitching for St. Louis in 1938, Pittsburgh from 1944-47 and Brooklyn from 1948-54. He was 93-37 at Brooklyn and had a 2-1 record in the Dodgers’ three World Series appearances against their cross-town rivals, the Yankees.

His teammates included such greats as Jackie Robinson, Duke Snider, Gil Hodges, Carl Furillo, Pee Wee Reese, Roy Campanella, Don Newcombe and Al Lopez. He helped tutor a young Sandy Koufax.

“I’m proud of the time I played,” Roe said. “Baseball was cleaning up its act. Years ago baseball had a reputation of being a little rough. Players drank a lot and caroused and tore up hotels.

“And I saw the black man enter the scene. It was a great change in the game and I was part of that. I’m proud of it. I can’t look back and wish I’d come along later.”

Roe, who lives in West Plains, a small town in southern Missouri, never had overpowering stuff. He won 10 or more games in eight seasons, including a 22-3 mark in 1951, his best year, by mixing slow breaking pitches with an average fastball and pinpoint control.

And he acknowledges slipping in an occasional spitball.

Roe got his nickname when, at age 3, an uncle asked him what his name was. “Preacher,” he replied, for no apparent reason.

Roe shifts uneasily in his chair, like a kid in a church pew, when he is asked about the spitter.

Hitters had long accused Roe of throwing the illegal pitch, but not until a newspaper story was published after his retirement did he acknowledge it.

In the early 1950s, players talked extensively among themselves about the pros and cons of legalizing the spitter, Roe says. A couple years after his retirement, several pitchers asked Roe to speak publicly on behalf of legalizing the pitch. He agreed.

In an interview with New York sports writer Dick Young, Roe acknowledged throwing four spitballs. Monte Irvin hit one for a triple; Stan Musial and Ted Kluszewski struck out; and the fourth pitch bounced in the dirt for a ball.

Roe claimed the spitter was not the dastardly pitch that batters and managers claimed, saying that it was far easier to hit than the knuckleball or forkball.

The story caused a furor in baseball circles, and suddenly the pitchers who had promised to support Roe were nowhere to be found.

“Four spitters is all I admitted throwing then,” Roe said. “But I don’t mind telling you that I would throw about one a game, or two. But after that article, hell, everything you’d read said the spitball was all I ever threw. I threw everything that can be thrown except a forkball and a knuckleball.”

Roe said he intentionally tried to make hitters believe he was throwing a spitter to gain a psychological advantage.

“Boy, I tell you, some of them got so upset when they came to bat. Ol’ Jimmy Russell, he was so sure I was throwing a spitter he’d jump up and down and go berserk. Sometimes I’d get ready to pitch and have him back out and ask for the ball as many as six times in a row.

“Another thing you could do too is if the umpire asks for the ball, you drop it on the ground. Then the hitter would think, Oh boy, something’s wrong.”

Roe considers his six-hit, 1-0 victory over the Yankees in his first World Series appearance in 1949 to be the highlight of his career. His association with Branch Rickey, the Dodgers’ owner, was another.

“Branch Rickey was one of the greatest people that ever lived,” Roe said. “Mr. Rickey was the smartest judge of talent. He was morally a great man.”

Roe said when Rickey, then owner of the Cardinals, signed him in 1938, he spoke of the injustice of the policy of banning blacks from the major leagues. Nine years later, Jackie Robinson became the first black player in the majors as one of Rickey’s Dodgers.

“When he picked Jackie Robinson, he picked a dandy,” Roe said. “Jackie had to promise to keep his mouth shut. I tell you, the fans and opposing players gave him the dickens. They’d holler terrible things but he just kept his mouth shut and played ball. He was a great ballplayer.”