Willie Wells: Devil Gets His Due

Nine years after his death, a Negro League legend is finally recognized by his community and the baseball establishment

By Eric Enders
Published in The Daily Texan (February 9, 1998) 

AUSTIN, TEXAS— It was almost perfect. The banners flew, the bands played, the politicians spoke. The day had all the pomp and circumstance of a tribute to a living legend, except it came about a decade too late.

On a cold and windy Friday, city and baseball officials gathered downtown to posthumously honor baseball great Willie Wells, an Austinite whose accomplishments were largely forgotten during his lifetime. Wells— a shortstop who starred from 1924-48 with the St. Louis Stars, Chicago American Giants and other Negro League teams— was posthumously inducted into the National Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, N.Y., last August.

As part of Austin’s celebration of Black History Month, the city renamed Congress Avenue Willie Wells Avenue for the day. A proclamation was read designating Friday as Willie Wells Day in Austin. Several public officials lauded his accomplishments Friday, including Mayor Pro Tem Gus Garcia, City Councilman Willie Lewis, and former congressman Jake Pickle. But the ceremonies were bittersweet for members of the Wells family, who regretted that the lifetime .332 hitter never received such adulation before his death. Wells died in 1989 at age 83.

“He thought he belonged in the Hall of Fame, but he always said he would be dead before they put him in. And he was right,” said Oris Winn, Wells’ great nephew. “It’s nice that he’s being honored by the city of Austin, and it’s nice that he was honored by the Hall of Fame— but it was a long time coming.”

Wells’ daughter, Stella Wells, said she was overwhelmed by the ceremonies honoring her father. “I never dreamed that Congress would be renamed Willie Wells Avenue, even for a day,” she said. “This is a blessing.”

But James Riley, a Negro Leagues historian and Wells’ biographer, criticized the Hall of Fame for keeping Wells out for so long. “Willie was one of the greatest baseball players who ever lived,” Riley said. “If you can visualize Ozzie Smith hitting .350, that’s what Willie Wells was like. He is the caliber of player who ordinarily would be elected to the Hall on the first ballot.

“It’s a shame that he didn’t go into the Hall of Fame 12 years ago so he could have had the opportunity to smell the roses. You can point a finger at the Cooperstown board of directors and the Veterans Committee. They’re the ones who control who gets in.”

Ex-congressman Pickle said he tried to convince the committee members to induct Wells while he was still alive. “When I was in Congress, I recommended Willie for induction into the Hall of Fame, and we tried two or three times,” Pickle said. “We were unsuccessful at the time, but I hope our efforts helped pave the way for his eventual induction into the Hall of Fame.”

Of the 14 members of the Veterans Committee, only one— ex-Kansas City Monarchs first baseman Buck O’Neil— had the chance to see Wells play regularly. In recent years, O’Neil has been instrumental in campaigning for the election of more Negro League greats to the Hall.

“It was hard to get the black guys into the Hall of Fame because they were competing with white major leaguers,” O’Neil said. “There are stats for the major league players, but not for the Negro Leaguers. There wasn’t anybody on the committee who knew much about Willie Wells.”

O’Neil said another Negro League great from Central Texas, Smoky Joe Williams of Seguin, is likely to be elected when the committee announces its 1998 Hall of Fame selections on March 3.

Wells began playing baseball on the sandlots of Austin and was signed as a teenager by the St. Louis Stars in 1924. He reached the pinnacle of his career with the Stars and Chicago American Giants, winning pennants with both teams. His 27 home runs led the Negro Leagues in 1929, and he won the batting title with a .403 average in 1930.

“Willie could do it all— great hands, great range, and one of the smartest players I ever played against,” O’Neil said. “A young Ernie Banks played shortstop like Willie Wells, but Willie was quicker than Ernie Banks.”

In 1940, after 16 years of stardom in the Negro Leagues, Wells signed with the Veracruz Blues of the Mexican League. Veracruz fans affectionately nicknamed him “El Diablo,” or the Devil, a moniker that would follow him for the rest of his career. Wells enjoyed his experience in Mexico so much that he played three more seasons there. “One of the main reasons I came back to Mexico is because I’ve found freedom and democracy here, something I never found in the United States,” he once told Wendell Smith of the Pittsburgh Courier.

Before the 1946 season, as Wells was nearing the end of his career, he took on one last project: teaching a young second baseman how to turn the pivot on a double play. That pupil, Jackie Robinson, went on to shatter the major leagues’ color barrier a year later.

Soon after attending Robinson’s funeral in 1972, Wells moved back into the South Austin home he had grown up in. He survived thanks to Social Security and Meals on Wheels, spending his time playing dominoes at the corner barbershop and watching baseball games on his black-and-white TV. For years, he waited for the call from the Hall of Fame that never came. “The Hall of Fame is a great honor. It’s as high as you can go, like being president,” Wells told the Austin American-Statesman in 1977. “I think they’ll put more of us (Negro Leaguers) in there. Just let me see it while I’m living.”

Wells did not live to see it, but Riley, his biographer, is thankful Wells is finally being recognized. “When I look at all the banners lining this street, the street signs saying Willie Wells Avenue, with the Capitol in the background, it just makes me so glad,” Riley said. “Only in America could something like this happen. They called him ‘the Devil’ in life, but the Devil is an angel now, and I’m sure he’s up in heaven looking down on all of this.”

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