The 1956 Kansas City Athletics lost 102 games. That was a terrible team. But that team did have a left-handed pitcher who went 0-4 with a 6.15 ERA and had an amazing 28 to 45 strikeout to walk ratio. That is in the right order, yes, 28 strikeouts, 45 walks That left-handed pitcher was known mostly as Tom in those days. Later he would become Tommy Lasorda. He would manage his teams to four pennants and two World Series championships.
The 1957 Kansas City Athletics lost 94 games. That was still a terrible team. They finished dead last in the league in runs scored and next-to-last in runs allowed, and that will often prove to be a nasty cocktail for a baseball team. But that team did have a 29-year-old bantamweight of a second baseman who had been a World Series hero. That was Billy Martin, who would manage his players to two pennants, a World Series championship and many, many hours of therapy.
The 1958 Kansas City Athletics lost 81 games. That was, perhaps, the best of all the Athletics teams to play in Kansas City, though this seems a bit like saying that Cocoa Krispies is the healthiest of all the cereals that begin with the word "Cocoa." Bob Cerv hit 38 home runs that year. Also that year, the Athletics traded for a utility infielder who hit .240, slugged .292 and, somehow foreshadowing his future, was unsuccessful on three stolen base attempts. The infielder was named Dorrel Norman Elvert, but everybody called him Whitey, and Whitey Herzog went on to win two pennants and a World Series as manager of the St. Louis Cardinals.
The 1959 Athletics lost 88 games, which was more their speed. A young Roger Maris was on that team. So was Harry Chiti, who would gain a brief burst of fame later as a player traded for himself (technically, he was purchased and then returned -- leased, if you will). That Athletics team also had an infielder named Joe Morgan, who -- unfortunately for them -- was not the right infielder named Joe Morgan. He would go on to manage the Boston Red Sox to the ALCS twice, where they were twice swept by the Athletics (by then, of course, in Oakland).
The 1960 Athletics lost Athletics lost 96 games. That Athletics team also had a starting third baseman from St. Louis who hit .266 and banged a career-high 16 home runs. That was Dick Williams. More on him in a minute.
The 1961 Athletics lost exactly 100. They were terrible, but did have the only pitcher to ever throw a perfect game in the World Series. They also featured an aging and proud former marine named Hank Bauer. He would manage the 1966 Orioles to the World Series championship.
The 1962 Athletics lost 90 games. Their shortstop had finished second in the Rookie of the Year balloting the year before and probably should have won it -- he hit .280, walked 92 times, stole 37 bases, scored 108 runs. But in 1962, he was injured and he would never again be the same player. That was Dick Howser. He would return to Kansas City 24 years later and guide the Royals to the only baseball championship the city has ever won.
The 1963 Athletics lost 89 games. The future managing star on that team was only 18 years old and had only just signed. Tony La Russa would manage his teams to five pennants and two World Series championships.
The 1964 Athletics lost 105 games. That might have been the worst of all the Athletics teams. The pitching staff gave up 220 home runs, which was a record. But on that team were two catchers, one who was fascinated by hitting, the other by pitching. The older of the two catchers, Charlie Lau, would go on to mold the swing of Hall of Famer George Brett and become, perhaps, the most famous hitting instructor of his era. The younger of the two, Dave Duncan, would work magic with pitchers for Tony La Russa's many winning teams and become, perhaps, the most famous pitching coach of his era.
The 1965 Athletics lost 103 games. But things were beginning to change. Sure, on the surface, that team was still a classic Athletics team. They brought Satchel Paige back to throw three innings at age 58. They had 13 different starting pitchers during the season. But that team featured a brilliant looking young shortstop named Bert Campaneris, and a promising 19-year-old pitcher who was being called Catfish Hunter. There was also a mouthy 23-year-old first baseman everyone called Hawk, who would later shout "You gone" from the television booth in Chicago. Rene Lachemann, who managed four different teams, was on that A's team as was Dod Edwards, who would later manage the doomed 1987 Cleveland Indians.
That's quite a run, isn't it? I bring this up now, of course, because Dick Williams died on Thursday. He was 82 years old, He managed more than 3,000 games for six teams. He managed the Impossible Dream Red Sox, the indomitable Oakland A's of the early 1970s, the talented but inevitably disappointing Montreal Expos of the 1970s, and the pennant-winning San Diego Padres of 1984. It was a remarkable career. He was an intense and demanding man who, as Bill James wrote, would alienate half his players. And he was also a principled and intelligent man who would inspire the other half to play their best. He had a spark, a skill for turning teams around. He also never lasted anywhere longer than five seasons. He was unquestionably one of a kind, and you can't tell baseball's story over the last 50 years without him.
Baseball managing seems to me more art than science. There have been brilliant men who have failed miserably. And, there have been men who seemed perpetually baffled by the strategic challenges who won many, many games. Dick Williams did not manage like Tommy Lasorda who did not manage like Whitey Herzog who did not manager like Tony La Russa. But they all will end up in the Hall of Fame. If you asked 10 former players to describe Dick Williams, you undoubtedly would get 10 wildly different answers. And all of them are true, in their own way.
I've often wondered why so many legendary managers and coaches came through those Kansas City A's during that decade. I'm sure it was just coincidence -- hey a LOT of players went through Kansas City in those years. But I remember Tony La Russa once telling me that those Athletics provided a a great training ground, even if you only spent a few weeks for the team. When I asked why, he didn't really want to get into it. May sense was that those teams were SO bad, they encouraged a lot of baseball players to think, "If I was managing this team, I'd do a whole lot better." And then: They did.
Joe, how do you do it? Do you have all of this stuff in a can and then you just pour it out over the page? Incredible.
ReplyDeleteR.I.P. Mr Dick Williams, maybe the wiliest manager of his time.
Oh and I detest Tom Lasorda...
As a Royals and an A's fan, it's always nice to read something that connects both teams. It's also nice to be first.
ReplyDeleteDammit! I was first when I wrote the comment...
ReplyDeleteYour friend Bill James touches on this in his 1986 Baseball Abstract article "A history of being a Kansas City Baseball fan" in the Royals section.
ReplyDeleteIt is a wonderful article which begins with the frustration of being an A's fan and ends with the 1985 World Series. I re-read it every spring, remembering what it was like when the Royals were good, and comparing the team of the last 15 years to the old A's.
I always have hope that the team will one day be good again.
(Hawk actually shouts "He gone.")
ReplyDeleteGreat work.
He was gone before "Blue Monday," but he played a major role in forming the Expos team that got there.
ReplyDeleteYou of course failed to mention his last tenure, with the Mariners. Which didn't turn out as well as Bill James had predicted (before he would sign) it would. Of course, if you look at who was on that team, you can see that Joe McCarthy in his prime wouldn't have won anymore.
ReplyDeletehttp://mlbbettingwinners.blogspot.com/
ReplyDeleteBaseball predictions, on a red hot 17-8 run
Haywood Sullivan played for the Athletics from 1961-63, then managed the A's in 1965.
ReplyDeleteTony LaRussa didn't want to answer a question? How unlike him - he's usually so warm and wonderful.
ReplyDeleteWhen they induct him into the HOF (and they will, I'm sorry to say), he should change speakers three or four times, once in the middle of a sentence, just to make sure he gets the best inflection on each and every word.
I think it's interesting how many bad players make good managers. I figure they got to watch a lot of baseball from the bench, and maybe chatted with the coaches quite a bit. It's not like I've studied the question thoroughly, but it seems to me that "back-up infielder" is the prototypical manager.
ReplyDeleteThat was fascinating - thanks Joe. I knew some of that, but not nearly all of it.
ReplyDeleteIt's a mystery to me why Frank White has never been given a shot. Maybe he was too good a player.
I second what Khazad said about the James piece. Worth re-reading every so often. My dad, who used to take me to A's games, loved it.
Here's one example how Dick Williams managed as wily as Wiley Coyote: In Game 3 of the 1972 World Series in Oakland, the Reds Johnny Bench came to bat in a crucial situation late in the game with men on second and third. Rollie Fingers is pitching in relief for the A's. First base was open and the count runs to 3 balls/2 strikes. All of a sudden Williams trots from the dugout to the mound and emphatically motions to first base, presumably telling Rollie to walk Bench intentionally. They discuss things a bit longer on the mound and then Williams runs off and Gene Tenace, the A's catcher, goes back behind the plate. Tenace then stands up in the catcher's box and puts out his right arm to indicate to Fingers to throw ball four well wide of the strike zone but then at the last instant Tenace drops down in the catcher's crouch and Fingers delivers a great hard slider over the plate that Bench can only watch in disbelief. Strike Three Called!
ReplyDeleteLater Bench said it was the most embarrassing moment in his MLB career. The Reds won Game 3 but somehow Williams led that A's club that appeared over-matched (Reggie Jackson was injured in the ALCS and did not play in the '72 WS) to their first World Series championship.
Bob Cerv became the longtime manager of the Liberal (Kansas) Bee Jays, one of the premier semipro teams of the 60s and 70s, compiling a 364-100 record.
ReplyDeleteNMark, that sounds like a recipe for the catcher and pitcher to each get drilled in the ribs their next ABs. Maybe the next three.
ReplyDeleteClashfan: Hey, if it means winning a World Series game perhaps there would be a line of players ready to get drilled. As I recall, the Reds did not retaliate for the A's trickery but again, in the World Series, you really have to be careful to pick your spots.
ReplyDeleteThat 1972 World Series was a superb one to watch. It doesn't get enough credit for being one of the most interesting and entertaining 7-game series in WS history and much of that had to do with the managing of Dick Williams. He had his A's club (that was not yet nationally appreciated) bobbing and weaving throughout while Sparky Anderson's Big Red Machine just kept slugging away, expecting at some point for the A's to crumble from the pressure and might of the powerful Reds. It never happened. It was a rather amazing thing to watch.
Clashfan...is that you, Tony LaRussa?
ReplyDeleteWhen I think about Dick Williams I'm always reminded of an old story from the great Ron Luciano: "Dick Williams was the most sarcastic man I ever met, and he always gave me trouble. One night during an argument he paused and said, "You hear that? They're not booing you, they're booing your entire career!"
ReplyDeleteHee. I believe it.
Oh, I don't necessarily disapprove of the tactic--just that it seems to go against the unwritten baseball code. Maybe I'm wrong, or possibly they viewed things a bit differently then.
ReplyDeleteRandom tangent: Am I the only person who thinks that these rules are selectively enforced, based on who the players involved are? My example is Derek Jeter's falsely claiming to be HBP'd last year. The move was hailed as doing whatever you have to in order to get an advantage, being a winner, etc. If Alex Rodriguez had done it, he'd have been vilified as cheap, bush-league, etc.
Great piece. I am amazed at how much you seem to understand all the old guys. It must be Buck's influence. One of the things I am still bitter about (which makes me smaller than Buck I guess) is the abomination of not welcoming him into the Hall of Fame in his lifetime. And sine that time, I've not looked on the Hall of Fame with anything coming close to the level of respect and awe I had held since childhood.
ReplyDeleteWe teach out kids that of all the unfair things in life, baseball is supposed to come as close to the ideal of being fair as money and mortals will allow it. Buck's exclusion was the work of grumpy old men hiding behind coughs and technicalities. An institution that prides itself on exclusion is not much better off than Augusta Country Club.
Frankly I don't care who does, or does not gain entry into the HOF anymore as a result. The HOF was supposed to be about celebrating baseball's greatness as the national pastime, not some damn country club run by a bunch of back-room stuffed shirts and self-righteous bums, disguised as baseball writers.
The wonderful pieces you write about the wonderful people in this game is good enough for me, so I don't much worry about honoring old players, coaches and managers anymore. So I have that going for me.
Which is nice.
"Hey, is that you and Tommy Lasorda?"
ReplyDelete"Yeah."
"I hate Tommy Lasorda."
I wonder if so many managers played on that team because so many great managers were marginal players and those KC teams were full of marginal players?
ReplyDelete"and guide the Royals to the only baseball championship the city has ever won."
ReplyDeleteThis is, of course, not counting the local Negro League team, which had a pretty good manager of its own.
What an amazing run of managers. It makes sense why bad players would be good managers - Willie Mays can't teach his guys to play like Willie Mays. But I wonder if there is something to this bad team thing, too. Thanks Joe, for the usual cool info.
ReplyDeleteDid us ever notice how all the great baseball writers cheered for real lousy teams when they were kids
ReplyDelete