Can’t Anybody Here Manage This Game?

Yes, I know another blog where the focus is on baseball. Some of you may say baseball is boring, or aren’t there more important things that can be addressed than baseball. Well, if you consider the premise that baseball is a microcosm of society, or it’s truly America’s game, or if you judge the attendance each year, or how much attention what goes on in the world of baseball gets in the media; then no, there aren’t more important things to address in this space this week.
If you ask Bryan Clark, a friend of my son’s and rabid Florida Marlins fan, which by the way are very few and far between; I’m quite sure he would say that no, there is not much more important than focusing on baseball, particularly when the subject is the Florida Marlins.
Bryan is a knowledgeable baseball man. He knows the ins and outs of the game. He is a student of the game, its history, and how it should be played. Last night he must have felt betrayed by those in positions of authority who decide things that affect a games outcome. If I were he, I would have been left scratching my head. As a matter of fact, I’m still scratching my head. And due to the extended period of time I’ve done this, a hole has been bore through to my skull. What follows is what has fallen out.

Casey Stengel once uttered the words “Can’t anybody here play this game?” in 1962 as he oversaw a collection of misfits, has-beens, and castoffs named the New York Mets. That year the Mets would win forty games; they would lose one-hundred and twenty. Casey Stengel was their manager who was once heralded as a genius when he guided the supremely talented New York Yankee teams featuring Mickey Mantle, Roger Maris, and Whitey Ford, among others. But, as Hall of Fame pitcher Warren Spahn once said, “I played for Casey before he became a genius.” Stengel was also the manager of a less than notable Braves squad.
It has often been said that too much credit goes to the manager when a team wins, and they take too much of the blame when a team loses. It the case of the Florida Marlins, perhaps some of that blame is warranted. Fredi Gonzalez is the Marlins manager. He replaced a gentleman named Joe Girardi, who was fired right after he won the National League Manager of the Year Award. That should tell you something about those who oversee the manager. One of the rumors that circulated concerning the grounds for dismissal had to do with what was perceived as misuse by Girardi’s of the Marlins young pitching staff, principally the overworking of soon to be kabillionaire (the Marlins certainly aren’t going to make him one), Josh Johnson.
Johnson had a splendid rookie season cut short by arm woes. He eventually underwent “Tommy John surgery.” He has rebounded magnificently, becoming one of the premier pitchers in the National, perhaps even, both leagues. Fredi Gonzalez must be looking over his shoulder because I can’t see any other reason why he would pull out twenty-three year old Andrew Miller last night after he had only allowed one hit, and throwing only eighty-three pitches. I do know it wasn’t to show how much confidence Gonzalez had in his bullpen.
On July 21, 1970, San Diego Padres manager Preston Gomez, pinch-hit for his pitcher Clay Kirby. Kirby was three outs away from throwing a no-hitter. Granted, Kirby’s team trailed 1-0 against the New York Mets. Ironically, the Padres and the Mets are the only two National League franchises that have never had a pitcher throw a no-hit game. The pinch-hitter, Cito Gaston, struck out. The Mets went on to score two more runs off the Padres relievers to win 3-0. Gomez was so thrilled by this outcome, and his infinitely adept managerial savvy, that he duplicated this move while manager of the Houston Astro’s in 1974.
Don Wilson was pinch-hit for after throwing eight no-hit innings just like Kirby four years before. This time the Gomez led Astros trailed 2-1 to the Cincinnati Reds. Oddly enough this move failed for a second time, and the Astros lost, final score 2-1. Did not Gomez take history in school? How many times have you heard “those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it”?
You can say a one-hitter is not the same as a no-hitter. No shit, really? But, when a pitcher who’s twenty-three, has only gone seven innings once before this year, is in the midst of the finest game he has ever pitched, when you have the opportunity to rest your bullpen for at least one more inning, why wouldn’t you? How about instilling some confidence in one of the two most coveted players you obtained in a trade that sent Miguel Cabrera and Dontrelle Willis to the Detroit Tigers, Cameron Maybin being the other. Wouldn’t you let a kid who’s six feet six, and two hundred and fifteen pounds surpass the sacrosanct “one hundred pitch” threshold under these conditions? Besides, the one hit Miller did give up was a double to start the game. He allowed no hits thereafter.
Have managers become so deathly afraid of letting pitchers pitch that they’re willing to sacrifice a game, and the starting pitchers confidence, all in the name of job security? Has every fucking manager in the Major Leagues bought into this babying of starting pitchers? Thanks Billy Martin, thanks Tony LaRussa.
In 1980, Oakland A’s manager Billy Martin, had a young, strong set of live arms for his five man starting rotation. Martin also had an affinity for refraining from using relief pitchers. However, he also had an imbecile for a pitching coach in Art Fowler, a drinking buddy from his days as a New York Yankee player. Instill confidence Martin did. That’s the upside. The downside was all five pitchers eventually developed arm trouble, cutting their careers woefully short. Were they cut short due to overwork, or was it lack of conditioning?
Texas Ranger president Nolan Ryan, Hall of Fame pitcher who logged nearly fifty-four hundred innings pitched, notched over fifty-seven hundred strikeouts, and issued almost twenty-eight hundred walks, who once threw, to his best guess, two-hundred and sixty two pitches in one game, has lifted the one-hundred pitch count limit for all Ranger starters. No more pussies on his staff as long as he’s calling the shots. Ranger managers can breathe a sigh of relief. You can be sure Ryan will never hire current St. Louis Cardinal manager Tony LaRussa, to lead his team.
Back in 1986, LaRussa took over as manger of the Oakland A’s (Martin was fired in 1982). LaRussa has been acclaimed as a statistics guru. He decided to establish pitchers with distinctive roles coming out of the bullpen. If his team was ahead, there’d be a setup man to pitch the eighth inning, and a closer to pitch the ninth. The idea of a closer was not a new one, but using him for one inning only in most circumstances was. Piching officially became very specialized, and with the unbridled success this system enjoyed, other organizations soon followed LaRussa’s lead. Now it seems at the expense of starting pitchers capable of much more than they’re allowed. In the case of the Florida Marlins, perhaps we have to consider the source.
Fredi Gonzalez, though chock full of young eager players with young eager legs, he is hesitant to steal bases. He is hesitant to put on the hit and run. He is hesitant to bunt for a base hit. Great, and now he’s hesitant for a young pitcher to make his bones by allowing him to finish what he starts, even though, did I say this, allowed one hit, took only an hour to get through the first five innings, was ahead 6-1, and threw only eighty-three pitches. I know I already said it, but it was important enough to repeat. Did Fredi Gonzalez say to himself, “Oh my god, we have a game that could finish in under three hours, well I’ll have to do something about that”?
The outcome of this timidity? Needless to say, the Marlins bullpen faltered, in grand fashion I might add. The first batter setup man Leo Nunez faced hit a home run. Matt Lindstom the closer, he of three walks and a grand slam home run in less than one inning against the Phillies fame, didn’t fare any better. Eventually the Orioles tied the game at 6-6. The Marlins luckily won in the 12th inning, 7-6, and the Miami Herald and ESPN chose not to mention Gonzalez’ little magic act called the disappearing backbone trick. A baseball team’s play is a reflection of its manager, if that is true then the wishy-washy Gonzalez has led his team to a wishy-washy .500 record. Get a pair Fredi, or the blame you’re assigned may be justified.