Part II: How well did Cubs player-managers perform over the years?

Between the tenures of two Chicago Cubs player-managers: Joe Tinker, who left after the 1916 season, and Bill Killefer, who took the reins in 1921, these things took place: the collapse of the world order, a global pandemic, and a gratuitously bloody war in Ukraine

The baseball world order collapsed during the same time period. The gamblers who killed the 1919 World Series, the baseball that killed Ray Chapman, and the Babe who killed baseballs crashed Baseball 1.0; the game would never be the same. The Cubs, as would become typical, were slow to adjust.

This is the second of two posts on Chicago Cubs player managers. You can find the first one here.

Bill Killefer (1921), 23-34, .404

The proper way to build up a club is to depend upon youth and speed.   – Bill Killefer

Killefer, as quoted from this article, was half-right. While youth continues to be vitial to rebuilding clubs today, the relationship between speed and success would become increasingly complicated as the 1920s wore on. The next great Cubs teams would look more like the emerging big bat franchises taking shape in New York.

Killefer’s first year as manager, and his only year as a player-manager, was a grim one. Despite his emphasis on speed the 1921 squad attempted steals at about the league average rate. But his bunt-happy approach was already evident: this Cubs team attempted sacrifice bunts 50 percent more often than average. After he hung up his spikes, Killefer began to have some modest success. Now fulfilling his vision statement, his Cubs teams ran with abandon, stealing and bunting much more than the league averages, and pulling the team (barely) above .500 for the next three years.

Rabbit Maranville (1925), 23-30, .434

The Killefer Era (OK, yeah, that’s a reach) juddered to a halt in 1925. The Cubs tied for last in the league with an 83+ OPS. Gabby Hartnett had arrived, as had Charlie Grimm, but the middle infield was, once again, a disaster. Maranville helped dig the hole, with a ghastly 53 OPS+ in part-time duty at short. He took over the managing duties 76 games into the season, and the club played slightly worse during his brief tenure than it had for Killefer.

The Cubs running percentages (run scoring, stolen base success, and extra bases taken) were about average, but the club couldn’t buy a walk. Maranville got hurt at the end of August bringing a merciful end to his managerial career. He would leave the Cubs at the end of the season, but the Cubs would get another Rabbit in 1940: Rabbit Warstler was also a shortstop and also didn’t hit.

Chicago Cubs: The beginning of the end for player-managers

Gabby Hartnett (1938-40), 203-176, .536, 1 pennant

In 1940, Cubs starting shortstop Bobby Mattick slashed .218/.250/.252 over 464 plate appearances for an OPS+ of 40. That was the second-worst OPS+ for a qualifying hitter in Cubs history. A critical task for any manager is allocating playing time. While the options available to Hartnett were admittedly bleak (they included the aforementioned Rabbit Warstler), it is difficult to defend giving over 400 plate appearances to player who couldn’t hit water if he fell off a boat.

By now the rot that would consume the Cubs for the better part of the next four decades was beginning to manifest. Again the Cubs had one of the oldest teams in the league: Their only two good players under 27 were Phil Cavarretta (23) and Bill Nicholson (26). They would have good careers with the Cubs, but they would rarely receive much help.

At age 39 Hartnett himself was still fairly productive but limited to part time duty. It’s probable that no manager could have squeezed substantially more wins out of the 1940 Cubs than Hartnett’s 75. But Bobby Mattick makes you wonder if Hartnett at least could have tried harder.

Phil Cavarretta (1951-53), 169-213, .442

Spring training, 1954: Cavarretta told owner Phil Wrigley that the team was likely to finish poorly. A few days later, GM Wid Matthews fired Cavarretta. The 1954 Cubs would finish with 64 wins, exactly one less than they garnered in 1953, Cavarretta’s last year as a player-manager with the Cubs.

We think of managers, when we think of them at all, with respect to their positive or negative effects on their team. Ultimately, we would want to know how many wins a given manager adds to or substracts from the average manager. If such statistics exist, they aren’t publicly available.

For the manager himself (and they’ve all been hims so far) the task is even more complicated. The trick to managing, Casey Stengel once observed, is to “keep the five guys who hate you away from the five who are undecided.” Stengel gets it right: the least measurable part of any manager’s job, the man management part, is probably the most important.

But the manager’s juggling act doesn’t stop with the players. Owners, front office personnel, the media, fan groups – the list of potential minefields is almost endless. The skill with the anodyne name “communications” is vexingly complex, and only a relatively few managers master it.

At first glance one sympathizes with Cavarretta, but look at the above anecdote from Matthews’ point of view. His subordinate just told his boss that he’s done a crap job. The fact that he had done a crap job doesn’t necessarily make Cavarretta’s decision to say so out loud any wiser. On the other hand, at least Phil didn’t have to sit through the dismal 1954 season.

Elvin Tappe (1962), ,4-16, .200

A new idea that produces significant competitive advantages is called “innovative.” A new idea that makes everyone associated with it look like idiots is called “the college of coaches.” You can read all about it at the link – there were some interesting concepts behind it, but it did not survive the first contact with reality. Tappe, a backup catcher, participated in the experiment in 1961 and 1962, but only actually played in 1962. The Cubs finished ninth in the NL that year, and the college died with that season. The Cubs have not had a player manger since.