Quantitatively rating baseball managers

Collapse
X
 
  • Time
  • Show
Clear All
new posts
  • FirstTimer
    Freeman Error

    • Feb 2009
    • 18729

    #16
    Originally posted by Warner2BruceTD
    Here's what I don't understand about the Dusty "pitcher killer" thing.

    By the time he got to Chicago, Wood already had an injury history and was 26 years old. He threw more CG's under Riggleman & Baylor then he did under Baker. He missed a full season 2 or 3 years before Baker ever got to Chicago. But Dusty "killed" Wood, not Riggleman or Baylor. Huh? Total nonsense.
    Because Dusty, being a "good" manager should have seen that Wood had previous injury issues and what overuse would do to him in comparison to the other two managers who were "bad". Noticing Wood's work load and it's correlation to his injury history is something I would think a good manager would have noticed.


    Originally posted by Warner2BruceTD
    And Zambrano pitched more innings than either Wood or Prior, but never got hurt.
    Zambrano also wasn't overused for the years Wood was by other managers AND Dusty, Zambrano is on the record as describing arm issues because of Dusty's high pitch counts.

    It's also not just the accumluation of innings. It's the number of actual pitches thrown. And the number of fatgued pitches thrown. The pitch count numbers with Dusty as a manager really speak for themselves.

    Originally posted by Warner2BruceTD
    There is basically no evidence that Dusty kills arms. Not in SF, not in Cincy. Reputations are hard to shake, but Dusty basically has a bad rep in that regard because Mark Prior is softer than bread. Prior would have gotten hurt under any manager. It's all so silly.
    IMO it wasn't just that Prior was "soft", it stemmed from some mechanical issues(another thing a good manager should have noticed, or taken notice of), and when he was finally back he took line a drive off the elbow and then was really never the same again.

    You could make the argument that maybe Wood and Prior were just more injury prone than other players but I would say that Dusty should have noticed that and well...... managed those players better, especially their pitch count and work load, if that was indeed the case.

    Having a pitcher in Wood, with a history of arm issues trot out and routinely throw 100+ pitches in a start doesn't seem like good managing. Nor does it seem like a good idea to subject a rookie or young pitcher like Prior to that as well.

    Comment

    • Senser81
      VSN Poster of the Year
      • Feb 2009
      • 12804

      #17
      Originally posted by Warner2BruceTD
      Here's what I don't understand about the Dusty "pitcher killer" thing.

      By the time he got to Chicago, Wood already had an injury history and was 26 years old. He threw more CG's under Riggleman & Baylor then he did under Baker. He missed a full season 2 or 3 years before Baker ever got to Chicago. But Dusty "killed" Wood, not Riggleman or Baylor. Huh? Total nonsense.

      And Zambrano pitched more innings than either Wood or Prior, but never got hurt. And he was younger than Wood and the same age as Prior.

      There is basically no evidence that Dusty kills arms. Not in SF, not in Cincy. Reputations are hard to shake, but Dusty basically has a bad rep in that regard because Mark Prior is softer than bread. Prior would have gotten hurt under any manager. It's all so silly.
      Here is something I cut and pasted from Chris Jaffe's book. It kind of says what you said. I like the last line, of how Cincy will determine Dusty's legacy. Even with that, we still don't know what to make of Baker.

      His teams win with hitting, especially power. Baker has overseen middling pitchers who allow more walks than normal. He frequently uses relievers on back-to-back days. Only five teams in baseball history with more than 15 saves had one reliever record all of them; Baker managed three: Rod Beck with the 1996 Giants, Robb Nen with the 2002 Giants, and Francisco Cordero with the 2008 Reds.

      Much of the commentary on managers (including, admittedly, much of this book) presents a reductionist view of their job, portraying a skipper as someone who has the same impact on all environments at all times. In reality, managers are better at some parts of the job than at others. Place a man in a situation that fits his strengths, and he will look like a savant. Put that same individual on a team that highlights his weaknesses and people will call him a dullard. Dusty Baker’s experiences with the Giants and Cubs provided ample evidence of this phenomenon.

      With the Giants, Baker was exceptionally well regarded. He won three Manager of the Year Awards in eight seasons, and the venerable Leonard Koppett argued in his book The Man in the Dugout that Dusty Baker was “as close to perfect as one could find” in modern baseball. Numerous players did far better under his care than one could possibly have imagined, including Ellis Burks, Jeff Kent, Benito Santiago, Rich Aurilia, Brent Mayne and J.T. Snow.

      People skills were Baker’s strong point, and positive feelings were the trademark of his Bay Area tenure. In 10 years in San Francisco, he never had a public dispute with a player. The team handled those matters in-house. Jeff Kent and Barry Bonds publicly feuded with one another, but neither ever dragged Baker into it, and he did not let it disrupt the rest of the squad.

      Baker’s experience with the Cubs was very different, as the Bay Area’s genius became the Windy City’s idiot. After a strong start, nearly taking the Cubs to the World Series in 2003, things devolved into increasing acrimony. During the 2004 pennant race, the Cubs acted completely unfocused. They concerned themselves with petty details—disputes with reporters, an on-field brawl with the Astros, and most embarrassingly some players complained the Cubs’ TV broadcasters said too many nice things about the opposition. A talented roster failed to reach the postseason because of asinine distractions.

      Baker’s critics became louder the longer he stayed in charge, and the situation cratered completely in the first half of 2006. In a four-week period, the Cubs went 5-23, appearing completely disheartened in the process. They set a franchise record for ineptitude, scoring 13 runs in an 11-game stretch. During that death spiral, Baker made some curious statements. Sounding openly morose, he said he felt depressed, and did not know what to do about the situation. That is the last thing a leader should say. In any line of work, the boss’s attitude rubs off on his underlings. Baker’s Eeyore the Donkey impression did not cause the tailspin, but it amplified and extended it. The Cubs played like a team expecting to lose, finding reasons to falter, blowing game after game. When Baker left Chicago amid howls of fan discontent, his reputation lay in tatters.

      The difference in Baker’s performance in the two towns had more to do with the fit than with Baker himself. Five factors accounted for the difference: player age, the emphasis placed on pitching, athletes' sensitivity to criticism, the players’ interest in drawing walks, and the batboys (yes, really). These factors showcased Baker’s strengths in San Francisco and his weaknesses with the Cubs.

      First, the Giants had a veteran team, which perfectly suited Baker. He was more at ease dealing with known quantities, which made San Francisco the perfect franchise for him as team GM Brian Sabean badly neglected his farm system, building the team with established talent instead. The quality players who gurgled up from the minors, such as Aurilia, were rare enough that even Baker felt comfortable incorporating them.

      In contrast, Chicago had a youth movement when it hired Baker. Baseball America claimed the Cubs had baseball’s best farm system shortly before Baker’s Wrigley Field debut. He unhesitatingly incorporated superlative young pitchers Mark Prior and Carlos Zambrano into the rotation; the Cubs could always use another starting pitcher. However, whenever Baker had to choose between starting a veteran position player or a prospect, he reflexively chose the veteran. Most vexingly, when the Cubs fell out of the pennant race in 2005, Baker refused to give prospect Ronny Cedeno a shot because that would mean benching Neifi Perez. Though Perez was a horrible offensive player, Baker praised him as a standout presence.

      Similar situations played out with unproven players like Matt Murton and Jason DuBois. Maybe they were not good enough to make it, but Baker rejected them without giving them a chance. A familiar routine developed: GM Jim Hendry would talk about wanting to see how the latest call-up would do. Shortly afterward, Baker would caution against overburdening the youngster, and then bench him. Hendry had to trade veterans away to get Baker to play a few youngsters.

      A second difference existed between Baker’s Giants and Cubs squads: San Francisco’s teams did not revolve around pitching. Instead, they won with offense, the part of the game at which Baker, a former hitting coach, excelled. His starting pitchers were generally just innings eaters. In fact, over the course of his career, he had subpar starters. According to the Tendencies Database, the following managers had the worst starting rotation ERA (available thanks to Retrosheet) adjusted for park:


      Worst starting pitcher park-adjusted ERA
      Frank Robinson 1.282
      Dusty Baker 1.221
      Johnny Oates 1.173
      Gene Mauch 1.142
      Bruce Bochy 1.129
      In San Francisco, Baker had men like Kirk Reuter, Mark Gardner and Russ Ortiz—fine pitchers, but nothing special. This was fortunate because hitters were Baker’s forte, not pitchers. The strengths of the roster and manager meshed.

      Chicago’s best players were pitchers, most notably their young trio of starters Mark Prior, Kerry Wood and Carlos Zambrano. In the most commonly noted criticism of Baker’s time in Chicago, Wood and Prior went down with injuries after experiencing heavy workloads. Frankly, this critique is overblown as Wood already had experienced numerous injuries and one never knows if Prior would have stayed healthy, Baker or not. Nevertheless, Baker had them pitch needlessly deep in several games. He lacked the same feel for pitchers that he possessed for hitters; it was not his strength.

      Third, Baker’s teams in Chicago were noticeably thin-skinned. Numerous players went out of their way to complain about the media and any criticism they received. This tactic merely created more backlash against them and further distracted the team from the game. Aside from the players complaining about the broadcasters, several—including Jacque Jones, LaTroy Hawkins and Moises Alou—developed personal media feuds.

      This had not been the case in San Francisco. The key difference lay with the best player, Barry Bonds. Aside from being the Giants biggest star, Bonds was their most criticized player. Even before BALCO, critics assailed him for everything from his attitude to having a big chair in the clubhouse. Bonds never let it faze him. Think how that affected his teammates: were they really going to complain about a scathing article when the man 10 times more talented received worse abuse? No. Bonds’s existence meant Baker had to do minimal disciplinary work to keep the team focused. Baker’s interpersonal skills focused on a kinder, gentler approach with players anyway, so this fit his style. The Cubs needed someone who would kick them in the butt instead.

      Fourth, the Giants’ hitters minimized and Chicago’s offense maximized Baker’s blind spot for the base on balls. While with the Cubs, Baker publicly derided walks as things that clog bases. If it were just a press conference comment it would not matter. However, the team drew fewer free passes under his watch. In his first year, Chicago’s walks declined by 93, and the Cubs' walks dropped further each season he was there. In his final year, the Cubs had their worst walks-per-game rate since 1921. However, in 1921 the NL averaged 2.1 walks per nine innings, versus 3.3 in 2006. In context, that year’s Cub hitters did the worst job in franchise history working the count. The 2006 Cubs drew 292 fewer walks than they allowed, the worst differential in National League history. In Baker’s four years, they averaged 158 more walks allowed than drawn per year, easily the worst stretch in franchise history. The year after Baker left, Chicago’s hitters drew 105 more walks than the year before.

      In San Francisco, though, walks were not an issue. Bonds, the game’s all-time leader in walks, had his offensive philosophy. Baker was not going to make the multiple MVP winner radically alter his approach, making him generally more tolerant of walks.

      The fifth crucial distinction was the different batboys Baker had in San Francisco and Chicago. That sounds frivolous, but it mattered. With the Giants, Baker made the players’ children team batboys in an attempt to foster a positive atmosphere. Baker firmly believed happier teams play better. Fathers who could go weeks without seeing their kids got to spend the day hanging out with them. Someone who committed an error or struck out three times could still return to the smiling face of his child, which shone through all of the crowd’s boos. A bench player could more easily endure his lack of playing time if his son was with him. The batboys motivated the players, putting them in the best frame of mind to win: enjoy the game, have fun, and do not sweat the small stuff. It not only made them happier and better focused, but it also put the players’ priorities in order. First comes family, then the job you do to support it, and after that everything seems insignificant. Also, the kids made sure the adults remained on their best behavior without Baker having to say a word.

      Unfortunately, in the 2002 World Series Baker’s own son nearly got run over at the plate, causing Bud Selig to issue guidelines for hiring batboys. The Cubs had generic batboys and considerably less fun. If ever a team could benefit from hearing a child’s laughter, it was the 2004 Cubs, who constantly sweated the small stuff.

      One other concern should be noted. There is no profession where people’s talents and abilities stay fixed forever. As Baker got older, he likely declined. His style centered on empathizing with his players. The older one gets, the more difficult it is to relate to twenty-somethings. Baker was neither as bad as he appeared in Chicago nor as good as he seemed in San Francisco. What happens in Cincinnati will determine his managerial legacy.

      Comment

      • FirstTimer
        Freeman Error

        • Feb 2009
        • 18729

        #18
        Really great excerpt.

        Comment

        • Senser81
          VSN Poster of the Year
          • Feb 2009
          • 12804

          #19
          Originally posted by FirstTimer
          Really great exerpt.
          I'm no Holt88 when it comes to great exerpts, but I try.

          Comment

          • FirstTimer
            Freeman Error

            • Feb 2009
            • 18729

            #20
            Originally posted by Senser81
            I'm no Holt88 when it comes to great exerpts, but I try.

            Comment

            • Slateman
              Junior Member
              • Apr 2009
              • 2777

              #21
              Originally posted by Senser81
              My work is much like that. The money comes in pretty much on its own, with no relation to sales people or marketing or whatever. So I always find it funny when the higher-ups say things like "we need more sales people" or "we need to spend more money in promotions"....because there is no correlation. Its like thats all they know how to do.
              Well what do you do? I'm unemployed and that job sounds skate
              The king was shaken. He went up to the room over the gateway and wept.
              As he went, he said: "O my son Absalom! My son, my son Absalom!
              If only I had died instead of you
              O Absalom, my son, my son!"

              Comment

              • Senser81
                VSN Poster of the Year
                • Feb 2009
                • 12804

                #22
                Originally posted by Slateman
                Well what do you do? I'm unemployed and that job sounds skate
                LOL, no doubt you are unemployed, because what I described is 95% of all corporate jobs in the US. Do you live in Canada?

                Comment

                Working...