One-Hit Wonders

Don't feel guilty for singing along.

For an all-too-brief period of time, baseball in Kansas City revolved around this man. (Image credit: MLB.com)

We tend to view one-hit wonders, at least in terms of music, movies, and authors, in one of two ways. Either they’re a what-if story, usually with tragic undertones, or they’re a guilty pleasure. Think someone, and I’m dating myself here, like Andrew Wood of Mother Love Bone for the former, and I’m sure you can supply your own example for the latter. Just pick whatever song you only crank up on the radio when you’re alone in the car.

Baseball has its fair share of one-hit wonders, and while I guess you could try to classify them in the same way — there are definitely a lot of candidates for the what-if pile — most of them are met with a shrug.

Here’s the thing, baseball is really hard, and it doesn’t easily lend itself to long-term success. If anything, this should make us applaud the select few who sustain a consistently high level of play over an extended period of time even more than we already do, but instead, we tend to pile on the guys who teased us with a brief flash, then faded back into obscurity. I’m not saying it’s right, but I suppose it is human nature.

We all have examples of one-hit wonders that stand out to us, usually from our favorite teams. The Royals have produced more than a few in my lifetime, but no one fits the mold better than Bob Hamelin.

Nicknamed “The Hammer,” Bob Hamelin was drafted by Kansas City in the second round of the 1988 draft. He was primarily a DH and first baseman, and was never seen as an elite athlete. But as I pointed in my last column, you don’t necessarily have to be a great athlete, or at least you don’t have to look like one, to excel at baseball— and Hamelin could hit.

He debuted in September of 1993, playing in 16 games and hitting two home runs. It was enough to make the Royals notice him, and after the retirement of George Brett in the offseason, Hamelin earned the DH spot the next spring.

Filling the shoes of George Brett, a first-ballot Hall-of-Famer and the greatest Royal ever, was a tall order, but in his rookie season, Hamelin actually looked like he was up to the challenge. In 101 games, Hamelin hit .282/.388/.599 with 24 HR, 65 RBI, 25 doubles, a .987 OPS, and a 147 OPS+, on his way to winning the AL Rookie of the Year award. He even mixed in a triple and four stolen bases. Not bad for a pudgy guy in glasses.

Hamelin was by far the best bat on a Royals team that was surprisingly in contention. But Hamelin’s timing sucked. Had he arrived on the scene earlier, his bat might have helped some very good Royals teams in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s get over the hump, but by the time he got to the big leagues, Brett, Bo, Tartabull, and others were all gone. The 1994 Royals were a last gasp team that overachieved, and even then, the Strike cut short any chance they had of doing something special.

Hamelin didn’t even get to finish his fantastic rookie season because of the work stoppage. By the time play resumed with a late start date the following season, Hamelin had lost his mojo. He hit .168/.278/.313 with 7 HR and 25 RBI in 1995. The only silver lining was a bittersweet one for Royals fans. Hamelin only played in 72 games that season, and the rest of his career would be hampered by persistent leg injuries and an eye condition. In many ways, the Hammer’s fall mirrored that of the franchise’s decline.

The 1996 season was a minor bounce back, but not enough to convince Kansas City Hamelin was worth hanging onto. He knocked around the next two seasons in Detroit and Milwaukee, and actually wasn’t bad with the Tigers. He played in a career high 110 games and hit 18 homers. It was easily his second-best season, but it didn’t carry over.

In 1999, while playing for the AAA Toledo Mud Hens, Hamelin grounded out. He trotted back to the dugout, told the manager he was done, and abruptly retired. That was that for the Hammer.

I don’t know if most people view Hamelin as a bust or a what-could-have-been story. Most likely, he overachieved based on his talent. That’s not even a knock on his talent. Not everybody can be a superstar, but for a year and some change, he lived that life in Kansas City. With George Brett retired, Bob Hamelin was the face of baseball in Kansas City for one brief moment, and I’ll bet it was one hell of a ride. If it wasn’t, he has no one to blame but himself.

We should all get to experience that feeling once in our life. I’m not talking about the fame, or even fortune, but the rush of doing something that makes a real impact on the world, even if only for a very short time. What that means can be different for all of us, but I believe almost everyone has that one thing. For me, it might be this newsletter blowing up. Or maybe it’s finally getting a novel published. It doesn’t even have to be a bestseller, just seeing it in print would be enough for me.

I don’t need to be George Brett, but I damn sure wouldn’t mind being Bob Hamelin for a minute.

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Thanks for reading Powder Blue Nostalgia. Do you remember “The Hammer?” Who are some other memorable baseball shooting stars for you? Share them in the comments!