Hack shined briefly on June 7 when he hit a home run and double for two RBIs. Then he went hitless the next two games and was riding the pine tar again. Consistency, which he had made an art form of in 1930, plagued him in 1931. He failed to put together any long strings of solid hitting. One good day was followed by several poor days.

Yet it wasn't only Hack's hitting that got him benched. The Chicago Tribune reported discreetly that both Wilson and Hartnett were benched for a "clambake or lodge meeting" that kept them out beyond Hornsby's curfew. The Cubs fined Hack for these "misadventures," the first of a few fines that year. It was obvious they weren't attending clambakes, but so the newspapers discreetly reported.

Off the field, Hack sought solace in his celebrity status. No matter how his career was turning out, at least he could be popular with his friends and hangers-on, and this seemed one of his most tragic rationalizations.

When Hack was inducted into the Hall of Fame in 1979, his son Bobby (as an adult, known as Robert) recalled the extent of Hack's popularity: "While Hack was in Chicago he was the most loved player anywhere. He was the toast of the town; he was friendly and well-liked in Chicago. He liked the night life, the night clubs."

Strangely, Robert added, in direct contrast to the wide acknowledgment of Hack's social habits, "He was not a drinker and what started him drinking no one knows for sure."

A son typically doesn't want to remind himself of his father's vices. Likewise, the people of Martinsburg generally said that while Hack pursued the drinking life, he was not a fall-in-the-ditch type of drunk. He was one of those drinkers who, as they say, held his liquor. Maybe he would have been better off if his drinking was an outright embarrassment -- the incentive to moderate himself would at least be there. In hindsight, Hack seems the type of alcoholic that appeared to function on the outside -- while trouble brewed on the inside. He built a wall around himself with drink, ignoring his family and professional obligations.

In 1931 his drinking seemed to take a startling, more dangerous direction, causing him to behave erratically. One Saturday in 1931, Hack and a few teammates drove over to Waveland Park in Chicago, near Wrigley Field, to dedicate a new ball diamond for children to play on. When they got there, Hack refused to get out. Instead, Cuyler and Hartnett played catch with the kids. Hack sat grimacing in the back seat of the car. He said the problem was a lack of "security" -- perhaps a reference to his status as a Capone friend. Yet his teammates knew the real problem -- he had a really bad hangover.

Once the Cubs arranged to have Hack's wife Virginia travel with the club on a road trip. They figured she could dampen his excessive urge to party. As it turned out, Hack drank more than ever on that trip, leaving his wife alone for hours in the hotel room. In such situations, she took advantage of her husband's guilt by asking him for jewelry, which the generous Hack readily supplied her to keep her happy. Thus she used his drinking to enrich her savings and collectibles, a point of contention later on between the two.

In 1979, the United Press International ran a wire story upon Hack's election to the Hall, saying that "hero worshipers followed him everywhere after his 56-homer season. Always the first to reach for a check, he became a patsy for freeloaders. They were aware of his quick reach and took advantage of it."

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