Dear readers, tonight we take you back to July 1916, when The Louisville Blues’ recent success on the baseball field has caught the entire sporting world by surprise and sent the city into rapture. Wellington Doyle, the Blues’ longtime manager, recently took a pause from his duties at Riverside Park to speak with Louisville Star reporter Lorraine Schmidt. Their wide-ranging conversation, edited for space and clarity, is below.

LORRAINE SCHMIDT: You were raised in Louisville, correct? What was it like then?

WELLINGTON DOYLE: That’s correct, ma’am. I was born in County Kerry, Ireland, in 1844. My family emigrated to America during the Famine when I was a small child. Louisville is the only home I’ve ever known. ‘Twas a wonderful place for a child. The city was much smaller then, but it was growing rapidly. Work was easy to find, and I had many friends. My parents did their best to shield me from the unrest that afflicted the city, but the war made it avoidable for all of us, of course.

LS: What are your thoughts about how the baseball season has unfolded thus far?

WD: I think it goes without saying that I have been thrilled with the team’s performance this year. I saw the potential and the talent among the young men on the squad, even if few others did. Perhaps it is counter-intuitive, but I believe the low expectations for us were a fortunate occurrence. By dismissing our chances before the team even took the field, our doubters took the pressure off us. Now, we are expected to win ball games. I’m confident the players will rise to that challenge.

LS: What was the scariest thing you’ve encountered in your career?

WD: I cannot say anything I’ve encountered in baseball has truly scared me, not after my experiences during the war. I did my share then, including a fair number of battles. I served in the 5th Kentucky Infantry: the “Louisville Legion,” they called us. A lot of us men on those early Blues teams were veterans, you know. We weren’t the best ball players, but we didn’t scare easily. I don’t want to give an incorrect impression: I have deep concern for my players’ well-being, and I want us to compete as best we can, but losing a game doesn’t scare me.

LS: What is the worst thing about managing a baseball club?

WD: I hate to begin another answer with a demurral, but I think it’s important for me to first acknowledge that, for the past three decades, my job has been to guide young men in the playing of a child’s game. Therefore, any “worst thing” I could cite is very, very relative.

That being said, in each six-month-long season, the team plays one hundred and fifty-four games in eight cities from New York to St. Louis. That makes for a lot of long nights on trains and late arrivals at hotels. It’s not the most restful way to make a living, but it’s not without its charms, either.

LS: On that note, what do you find is the best thing about your job?

WD: In over fifty years with the Blues, I’ve had the pleasure of playing with, working with, or otherwise encountering thousands of magnificent people. I think I’ve learned something from each of them. I hope I taught them something, too. Not many people get that opportunity in their lives. I don’t remember my grandparents, but from what I know of their lives, they never traveled more than twenty miles from the parish where they were baptized. Tomorrow, I’ll travel with the club more than ten times that distance, and I’ll think nothing of it. How marvelous of a journey I’ve had.

If you may indulge me, I’ll mention another pleasure. Daft as it might sound, there’s a peace I find in a baseball park that I’ve never experienced anywhere else. In the mornings and the evenings, when the sun is golden, and the smell of the grass and the dirt hangs heavy, I feel a certain, peculiar calm. A timeless calm. A reminder of our smallness, our ephemerality, and a hope for something greater than ourselves.

LS: I understand you never married or had children. Do you feel like you’ve missed out on that part of life?

WD: No, I don’t feel like I’ve missed out at all. The Blues have been my family for over fifty years. The club has cared for me since I was barely more than a boy. As I’ve grown older, I have tried to mentor the players I’ve managed, to help mold them into good men; I hope those efforts have repaid at least some of the debt I owe the Blues for all they have done for me. I have been blessed to find love in many forms throughout my life. I wouldn’t trade my life for anyone else’s.

LS: Could you please tell me more about those relationships? Would you say that you have friends in the club now, or do you view them as only colleagues?

WD: I consider them my friends, certainly. The Army taught me discipline and hierarchy, no question about that, but it also taught me the importance of a person’s relationships with their comrades. I depended on my fellow soldiers to keep me alive through the war, just as they depended on me. I’ve found that fraternity has served me well since then, too. I was one of the youngest players on the Blues when I joined the club in 1865; now, I am the oldest person in the whole organization. I don’t know if the fellows on the roster see an old man like me as a “friend,” but I hope they do.

Similarly, I am very lucky to have built a cordial relationship this year with Ms. Clark, the club’s new owner, despite only being in her twenties herself. She is a remarkable person: one of the most thoughtful, insightful people of any age I’ve ever known. Her uncle bequeathing the Blues to her was one of the wisest decisions he ever made. I understand that many in our city have unjustly doubted her ability ever since she took leadership of the club; I have been gratified, but not surprised, by the manner in which she has proved those skeptics foolish.

LS: With so many decades leading the Blues against other clubs, you must have encountered many rivals. Are there any whom you truly hate?

WD: No, I have tremendous respect for my opponents on the ball field. Much like your earlier question about what has scared me, after four years in the Union Army, I dare say my threshold for hatred is rather high. Even then, I spare my hatred for the rebel cause, and the pain they caused the whole nation, but not for the men themselves.

LS: What recreation do you enjoy when you are not working? Do you have a favorite drink?

WD: I’ve been an avid reader my entire life, so I’d say that’s my favorite pastime outside of baseball. Histories, academic treatises, the daily newspaper, all of it; I can never have enough information!

To your second question, well, I’ve never been much of a drinker. I’ve seen liquor ruin far too many lives for it to have much appeal to me. The Army always made sure we had plenty of coffee, so it’s been my beverage of choice ever since. As well, I’m still enough of an Irishman to enjoy an occasional cup of tea, especially when I’m reminiscing about my childhood.

LS: What does the future hold for you?

WD: As ever, I serve at the pleasure of the club’s ownership. That has never bothered me, particularly since Mr. Clark was such a sage owner, and his niece is proving to be the same. Indeed, it is my honor to manage this team, and I trust that the club has a bright future ahead. I hope to contribute to that future for as long as I am able.


Will Herman has fostered lifelong passions for baseball and American history. He combines these two interests in his debut novel, The Sum of Seven Thousand Sunsets.

You can find Wellington Doyle on the pages of The Sum of Seven Thousand Sunsets.

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