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.