Joy in Mudville

Sure I played, did you think I was born at the age of 70 sitting in a dugout trying to manage guys like you?
– Casey Stengel

If Casey Stengel had not accepted the offer to manage the Yankees, he would have been little more than a footnote (albeit an entertaining one) in baseball history. He was a decent player (among contemporary players, Melky Cabrera is a close match, according to Baseball-Reference’s similarity score system), but by and large his reputation was built on being a character of the game. When you doff your hat to the crowd and allow a sparrow to fly away, wear your uniform backwards, or – even worse – forget to wear your pants when you take the field, what can you expect?

Had Stengel never embarked on a managerial career, his legacy might have been similar to that of, say, Jay Johnstone. In fact, if his managerial career had ended before he took over the Yankees, the same would probably be true. In nine years managing the Dodgers and the Boston Bees/Braves, he had just one winning season (1938), and even then, just barely (77-75).

But, as we know, he didn’t do that. In a sense, for Casey Stengel, life began in 1949 at age 58.

His plaque at Cooperstown is largely a result of the seven titles (tied with Joe McCarthy for tops among managers) he won with the Yankees, and his all-time record of 37 World Series games won. From 1949 to 1958, his teams won 973 regular season games, good for nine pennants in 10 years (consequently, he managed nine American League All-Star teams during that span). Ironically, his best season (103 wins in 1954) was the one year the Yankees didn’t cop the AL pennant. But no manager ever had a better decade.

Casey’s unique personality, combined with his managerial prowess in the Yankee dugout, made the Old Perfessor one of the most familiar faces in baseball. His voice was also well known, as his deployment of the English language was as remarkable as his deployment of players on the Yankee roster.

Understandably, his 25-year managerial career overshadows his 14-year playing career. Any number of successful managers had negligible or non-existent major league playing careers. Not so with Casey.

In 14 seasons Stengel hit .284 with 1,219 hits, mostly as a part-timer (in only seven seasons did he garner as many as 400 at-bats), which may explain his enthusiasm for platooning when he became a manager.

In his younger days, he was widely respected on defense, especially at Ebbets Field, where he had mastered the art of tracking fly balls in the afternoon sun (he was the first fielder to wear sunglasses), as well as playing balls off the beveled right-field wall and throwing out runners.

While with Brooklyn, Stengel was a regular in the top five in outfield assists from 1914-1916; in 1917, he led the league with 30. As Yankees manager, he passed on his tricks of the trade to Mickey Mantle, when the rookie was assigned to play right field for the visiting Yanks in the 1951 World Series.

In 1925 (at age 35) Stengel retired as a player (from the Boston Braves) and became a minor league manager, though he occasionally inserted himself into the lineup. From 1927 to 1931, he hit .308 (28 for 91) for the Toledo Mud Hens of the American Association.

While Stengel’s World Series career as a Yankee manager is well known, he was also a pretty good player in October. He was fortunate enough to play in three World Series (1916, 1922 and 1923), albeit in part-time duty, but the results were good – particularly in 1923.

In 1916, he was in his fifth season with the Brooklyn Robins (occasionally referred to as the Dodgers or the Superbas). The Robins were hardly a Big Red-Breasted Machine. Zach Wheat, future Hall of Fame inductee, was in left field, and Rube Marquard, also a future Hall of Famer, was on the pitching staff. The crew was managed by the rotund Wilbert Robinson (hence the nickname Robins), who also ended up in Cooperstown.

The rest of the team was quite mortal, though some names (Leon Cadore, Nap Rucker, Chief Meyers, Jake Daubert and Fred Merkle) should ring a bell with visitors to this web site. The Robins had finished 80-72 in 1915, so a 1916 pennant was not exactly a bolt from the blue.

For what it’s worth, it is interesting to note that at 5-foot-11, Stengel was the tallest outfielder on the roster. Only two other position players (infielder Fred Merkle at 6-foot-1 and catcher Otto Miller at six feet) were taller; yet all the pitchers were six-feet or taller, save for Nap Rucker, who was five-foot-11. Manager Wilbert Robinson felt height was an integral part of successful moundsmanship.

In 1916, Stengel’s regular season was not great but not bad. He hit a respectable .279; in that dead-ball era, his eight home runs and .424 slugging percentage were good enough for sixth and eighth, respectively, in the league. (Teammate Zach Wheat led the league with 12 home runs and in total bases with 262.)

If the Robins were not world-beaters, they were the first Brooklyn team to win a pennant in the modern era. True, the Brooklyn Superbas won back-to-back NL pennants in 1899 and 1900, but that was before the arrival of the American League and the World Series. (An added distinction is that the Robins were the only World Series team to wear checkered uniforms.)

Curiously, the first World Series games in Brooklyn were not sellouts. The Game Three and Game Four crowds (21,087 and 21,662) were well below capacity, due to public outrage over $5 tickets.

In the first decade and a half of the modern era, Brooklyn teams played in the shadow of their interborough rivals, John McGraw’s New York Giants. When the Highlanders arrived in 1903, they also paled in comparison with the Giants. They shared Manhattan Island with the Giants (they even shared the Polo Grounds with the Giants from 1913, when they adopted the Yankee nickname, to 1922), but they were in the American League, so there were no regular season match-ups on the field.

Brooklyn manager Wilbert Robinson had been McGraw’s teammate with the famed Baltimore Orioles of the 1890s, and had served as a coach with the Giants. He had a falling-out with McGraw in 1913, so the 1916 pennant was quite a personal prize for him, particularly since he had won the pennant with some of McGraw’s castoffs (Rube Marquard, Chief Meyers and Fred Merkle).

Actually, the 1916 Robins were the third team in a string of NL rags-to-riches teams. The Robins, the Boston Braves (1914) and the Phillies (1915) were sandwiched between Giant pennants in 1913 and 1917. All three teams made their first appearances in the World Series, but only the Braves captured a title.

The Robins fell to the defending champion Red Sox, four games to one. Aside from Babe Ruth’s complete game 14-inning victory, it was not a particularly notable series. Sharing right field with Jimmy Johnston, Stengel went 2-for-4 in Game One, did not play in Game Two, went 1-for-3 in Game Three, did not play (aside from a pinch-running appearance) in Game Four, and went 1-for-4 in Game Five. His 4-for-11 was good for a .364 average, but it was of little consequence.

Sad to report, an historic match-up with Casey at the Bat and the Bambino on the Mound – before their legendary Yankee careers – did not occur. As players, Ruth and Stengel were contemporaries, yet their Yankee legends were sequential, with Ruth dying in 1948 and Casey donning the pinstripes in 1949.

Oddly, in his Hall of Fame acceptance speech, Stengel described his career by saying, “I chased the balls that Babe Ruth hit.” Since Casey spent his entire playing career in the National League, while Ruth’s glory days were in the American League, it is a curious statement. Aside from the 1922 and 1923 World Series (and possibly exhibition games), he was not patrolling the outfield when the Bambino was at the plate.

While Ruth was solidifying his reputation with the Red Sox, Stengel was traded to the Pirates before the 1918 season. He was shuffled off to the Phillies in August 1919 and traded to the Giants on July 1, 1921. He was positively ecstatic, for he had been a big fan of John McGraw, and the Giants were still head and shoulders above all other major league franchises – though the Yankees were on the rise, thanks to the acquisition of Ruth.

The early 1920s were pivotal years in New York baseball. Since acquiring Babe Ruth, the Yankees were now accorded much more attention, much to John McGraw’s chagrin.

In 1920 neither the Giants nor the Yankees won the pennant (ironically, the Dodgers finished on top that year), yet thanks to Ruth’s record year of 59 home runs, the Polo Grounds, used by both teams, recorded 1,289,422 fans (more than double their total of the previous season) at Yankees games, and 929,609 at Giants games.

In 1921 and 1922, both teams won the pennant, yet the Yankees continued to outdraw the Giants (1,230,696 to 973,477 in 1921, and 1,026,134 to 945,809 in 1922). McGraw surely enjoyed the fact that the Giants won both World Series, but it must have rankled him that the Yankees continued to draw more fans. Not anxious to be an understudy in his own theater, he informed the Yankees that they would have to find a new home in 1923.

Curiously, the opening of Yankee Stadium did not mark an increase in attendance. In fact, the 1923 inaugural attendance was 1,007,066, even though the Yankees won the pennant for the third straight year. This mark was actually less than the crowds the Yankees attracted at the Polo Grounds the previous three seasons.

Perhaps even more distressing to McGraw was the Giants attendance at the Yankees-less Polo Grounds. Even though the Giants had also won the pennant for a third straight season, their attendance declined to 820,780. In fact, as storied a franchise as the Giants were, they did not reach the million mark in attendance till 1945.

Stengel did not play in the 1921 subway Series (the first ever) against the Yankees. Even though eight games were played in the best-of-nine format, and Casey was in uniform and eligible to play, his efforts were confined to bench jockeying and cheerleading. Since his batting average for half a season with the Giants was .227 (just 5-for-22), his low profile was understandable, He did manage to get thrown out of a game after protesting a safe call – on a Babe Ruth bunt single, if you can believe that.

The Giants and Yankees squared off again in 1922 and 1923 (the best-of-seven format had been reinstated), and this time Stengel wasn’t just along for the ride. Despite his lackluster regular season performance in 1921, he returned in 1922 to hit .368 in 250 at bats with an even 1.000 OPS.

Unfortunately, his World Series involvement (2-for-5) ended in the second inning of the second game when he aggravated a leg injury and was taken out for a pinch-runner. The game was not without controversy, as it was called on account of darkness – prematurely, according to some onlookers.

Critics complained that a tie game had been planned to pad the gate receipts. Commissioner Kenesaw Mountain Landis, just a few years after the Black Sox scandal, was always on high alert for anything that even hinted at crookedness. He decreed that the game’s proceeds would go to charity. Since the Giants swept the Yankees, the tie game was of little consequence. This was the last time the Polo Grounds would play host to all games of the World Series, as McGraw had evicted the Yankees.

Stengel’s 1922 season assured he would return to the Giants in 1923, and he did not disappoint, though there was a slight drop-off (74 hits in 218 at-bats, for a .339 average).

But he really cranked it up in the 1923 Series. This World Series was renowned not only as the first in Yankee Stadium history, but also the only time the same two teams had faced each other three consecutive years. Thanks to the capacity of Yankee Stadium, World Series attendance records were set with each game played there, from 55,307 in Game One to 62,430 in Game Three, to 62,817 in Game Five. Perhaps the large crowds inspired Stengel’s dramatic achievements.

Since Stengel made so much World Series history as a manager at Yankee Stadium, it is fitting that he was there at the beginning as a player. In fact, he was the first man to hit a World Series homer there (Joe Bush went into the books the first pitcher to give up a postseason home run there). Stengel’s Game One four-bagger was also the first postseason inside-the-park home run at the Stadium. Since it broke a 4-4- tie in the top of the ninth inning (and the Yankees did not score in the bottom of the inning), it was a true game-winner.

The sight of the aging, gimpy Stengel chugging around the bases after his long drive to left-center inspired memorable descriptions from a number of sportswriters. According to legend, his shoe came off as he was rounding the bases. This has never been verified, but it certainly sounds Stengelesque.

Figuring Casey was winded, John McGraw took him out of the game and replaced him with Bill Cunningham in the bottom of the ninth. Given Stengel’s age and injuries, it is surprising that he was the Giants’ center fielder, especially in such cavernous ballparks as Yankee Stadium and the Polo Grounds. But his original position, right field, was owned by Ross Youngs, whose credentials were good enough to garner him a plaque in Cooperstown despite a premature death, and left field was manned by the capable Irish Meusel. So Casey was the center fielder by default, no matter his physical faults.

Since left-hander Herb Pennock started for the Yankees in Game Two (a Yankees victory), Stengel did not play. But in Game Three, he lined a conventional home run to right field – the first “outta here” World Series home run (served up by Sam Jones) at Yankee Stadium. This seventh-inning circuit clout was less dramatic than his Game One homer, but since the solo shot accounted for the only run of the game, the Giants likely thought it was a thing of beauty.

Giants fans would find little to cheer about the rest of the way, however. In fact, Stengel just might have jinxed his teammates. He blew a kiss and thumbed his nose at the Yankees while he was in his home run trot – a luxury he did not enjoy while circling the bases on his first home run.

Stengel went 2-for-2 (with two walks) in Game Four to raise his average to .625 (which didn’t keep McGraw from lifting him for a pinch-hitter when Herb Pennock came on in relief), but it was in vain, as the Yanks won, knotting the series at two games apiece. But it was over for Casey and the Giants. The Yankees won Game Five, 8-1, and Game Six, 6-4. Stengel had no hits in those two games, dropping his final batting average to a mere .417.

The final tally for Casey at bat in the 1923 Series was 5-for-12 with two home runs, four RBIs, and four walks to go along with a .513 OBP and a .917 slugging percentage. And unlike the Mighty Casey, Casey Stengel did not strike out. Not once!

Though Stengel was the Giants’ hitting star of the 1923 Series, his reward was to be traded to the lowly Boston Braves just one month after the Series ended. The trade made little sense for the Giants, but insiders suspected that it was John McGraw doing a favor for his old pal, Christy Mathewson, who was one of the new owners of the Braves. No way Stengel could augment his World Series statistics (or his postseason income) with that outfit (the Braves had finished seventh in 1923). But by then he was 34 years old anyway.

Altogether, in three World Series, Stengel was 11 for 28, good for a .393 batting average, .469 OBP and .607 slugging. Not too shabby.

In 1924, he hit a respectable .280 in 461 at-bats, but the Braves finished in last place with a 53-100 record. After a 1-for-13 start in 1925, he was released. It seems like a downbeat way to end such a colorful career, but baseball was all he knew, so he decided to go into management. The Worcester Panthers of the Eastern League were about as far away from Big Apple baseball as one could get, spiritually if not geographically, but that was where he cut his managerial teeth.

Stengel was something of a drawing card in the minors. With Casey on the field, the Show was something of a Circus. Going from clown to ringmaster is almost impossible in a circus, but when Stengel got into management, he showed it could be done in baseball. While many questioned the wisdom of putting someone with his temperament in a managerial capacity, it should be pointed out that he had to be a pretty good player for major league front offices to put up with him for 14 years. A lesser player would have been sent packing long before he was.

Of course, when Casey took over the fledgling New York, Mets in 1962, he was simultaneously the ringmaster and the clown. Considering the players on the Mets’ roster that year, Stengel and his minions could have packed a clown car to maximum capacity.

His employment as the Mets manager meant he had touched all the bases in Gotham. Over more than half a century, he had donned the uniforms of all four major league teams in New York. I don’t believe that could be said of anyone else in baseball history.

But a detailed look at Casey Stengel’s managerial career is not within the purview of this article. If you want to know more…well, it’s not a state secret. As Casey himself would have said, “You can look it up.”