For nearly two years now, Real Sports Heroes has focused on living sports figures who are making a difference in society. We will continue to spotlight those people who are giving back in a multitude of ways.

But, you know, there are others who are no longer with us who should get credit for their contributions. So, from time to time, we will focus on them, and in some cases hope to gain them recognition they deserve for their achievements.

Such a man was William “Dummy” Hoy.

Read about him on this website in Lin’s column, “Saluting Teamwork.” It’s a fascinating story.

For 19 years, the deaf community and others who have reviewed his background have been lobbying to get Dummy Hoy into the National Baseball Hall of Fame. For reasons only they know, members of the Veterans Committee have continued to bypass Hoy.

Many fans consider it a snub to deaf Americans that Dummy has not been inducted at Cooperstown. After all, he is the most accomplished deaf player in major league history.

William "Dummy" Hoy

Hoy was born in Ohio during the Civil War in 1862 and lost his hearing at an early age when he contracted spinal meningitis. He would grow to be only 5 ‘ 4″ and weigh 145. In those days, “dumb” was used to describe someone who could not speak, but had nothing to do with lack of intelligence or stupidity. Hoy, who was the valedictorian at his school for the deaf, preferred to be called “Dummy.”

Baseball was almost an obsession with Hoy. At first, he showed little skill in the sport. However, a classmate, Ed Dundon, who ironically would become the first deaf player in the majors, gave Dummy some advice he never forgot. “Because you are small and deaf, you are going to have to work harder and have to be better than most players to have any chance.” Hoy used that statement as his motto when he became a cobbler and later a baseball player. It spurred him into becoming a hero in a number of ways.

Dummy was gentlemanly, polite, well-liked by his teammates, and his honesty was legendary. In one game, with darkness approaching, Hoy raced in from center field toward the infield trying to grab a batted ball. An umpire ruled he had made the catch. An argument ensued. The umpire went to Dummy and asked him if the ball had bounced or had he caught it on the fly. The answer? ” I trapped it.” The umpire reversed the call, and Hoy’s teammates were furious with him. The next day, Dummy received a letter from the owner of his team, congratulating him, with this statement, ” I would rather lose the game than win dishonestly.”

Hoy and his wife, Anna, who was also deaf, raised three children and a nephew who later founded the Helms Athletic Foundation in Los Angeles. After retiring as a pro at 42, Dummy retained his enthusiasm for baseball, joining a local amateur team, coaching a Deaf-community squad, and attending meetings of former players. He succeeded as a dairy farmer, also worked as a personnel director for the Goodyear Tire Company, and later with a book firm until he was 75. Hoy was inducted in the Ohio Sports Hall of Fame and the Cincinnati Reds Hall of Fame.

Dummy Hoy said he had two goals—–to live to be 100 and be voted into Baseball’s Hall of Fame. At age 99, the Reds asked him to throw out the ceremonial first pitch before game 3 of the 1961 World Series. Dummy could see the standing ovation he received. Two months later, he passed away after suffering a stroke, five months before reaching the century mark.

His other goal will come true one day if a committee decides to honor one of its own. It’s long overdue.