Friday, September 24
Vailed References > Tony LaRussa 2004: Same Old Song, Different Year?
by - Jim Vail of CREATiVESPORTS.COM
You’re sweet as a honey bee,
But like a honey bee stings
You’ve gone and left my heart in pain.
All you left is our favorite song,
The one we danced to all night long.
It used to bring sweet memories
Of a tender love that used to be
Predictably, given the huge lead they’ve enjoyed since shortly after the all-star break, Tony LaRussa’s St. Louis Cardinals were the first major-league club of 2004 to clinch their division. As of Tuesday morning, the Cards were 98-51 (.658), with a 10.5-game lead over the next-best team in the National League (Atlanta, at 88-62), 4.5 games better than the AL-leading Yankees (94-56) and on a pace to finish 107-55 for the season.
Everyone knew coming into 2004 that ── with Albert Pujols, Scott Rolen, Jim Edmonds, Edgar Renteria and Reggie Sanders ── the Cards would field one of baseball’s most potent offenses, and the late-season acquisition of Larry Walker seems to have made their lineup even more formidable. Among all major-league teams as of Tuesday morning, St. Louis ranked third in team slugging average, fourth in batting average, fifth in runs scored, sixth in home runs, total bases and stolen bases, and eighth in on-base percentage.
The big surprise has been their pitching. Prior to the season many of us who live and die with the team felt it was simply too weak to contend in the National League Central Division race against the likes of the defending-champ Cubs (who added Greg Maddux during the off-season) and Astros (who acquired Roger Clemens and Andy Pettitte), let alone compete for the best team in the majors. But the Cards’ 3.69 team earned run average is the best in both leagues right now, as are their WHIP (1.24) and on-base percentage allowed (.311). Their opponents’ batting average (.250) is second only to the Cubs (.248), and their slugging average allowed (.400) trails only the Cubbies and Braves. Unexpectedly, their rotation of Matt Morris (15-9), Chris Carpenter (15-5), Jeff Suppan (15-8), Jason Marquis (14-5) and Woody Williams (10-7) has arguably been the most consistent in the majors this season. Perhaps most surprising of all, their bullpen ── at best a model of inconsistency, often downright mediocre the last few seasons ── has more saves (51) than any club but the Yankees.
St. Louis appears to be the team to beat in this year’s postseason. But the Cards have looked stale the last couple weeks. Since reaching a season-best 92-44 (.676) on September 6, the club has gone 6-7, losing three consecutive three-game series to pennant-contending clubs (the Padres, Dodgers and Astros), each by a two-to-one margin. Scott Rolen’s injury-caused absence from the lineup has not helped, and now there is concern for the postseason over the muscle tear suffered by Chris Carpenter against the Diamondbacks last weekend. There is also the possibility that, by winning their division too easily and coasting the last few weeks of the season, the Cardinals may enter the playoffs emotionally and competitively flat relative to clubs involved in tighter divisional or wild-card races.
Beyond all that is another concern, which I call the Tony LaRussa factor. To introduce that unique problem, allow me to reprint here a short critique which was written ── under the headline “Nuclear Deterrence and Mark McGwire” ── for another website in early 2001, after St. Louis had lost the National League championship series to the wild-card New York Mets. Please keep in mind that all time references in the next seven paragraphs were current to 2001, not today.
“Late last spring I saw a movie called Deterrence¾one of the unheralded best of 2000 ¾ starring Kevin Pollack and Timothy Hutton. In the film, which is set in the near future, Pollack plays a Jewish-American who has ascended to the presidency without ever receiving a vote (he was appointed to replace a vice president forced by scandal to resign, and the elected president later died). While campaigning in the Colorado primary, the new prez and his aides get stuck in a podunk diner high up in the Rockies during a blizzard; and, while watching the bistro’s TV for the election results, they learn from CNN that Saddam Hussein’s son has invaded Kuwait with a half million troops (apparently Saddam is dead by then, but the film doesn’t actually say). What follows that set-up is a great final hour which demonstrates, more realistically than Dr. Strangelove ever did in the 1960s, the ultimate insanity of nuclear deterrence as national policy ¾ that its value is nonexistent unless you are willing and capable, once in a while, of actually using those weapons.
“With that point in mind, let’s fade back to game one of last year’s NLCS between the Cards and Mets. New York leads 3-0 in the bottom of the seventh inning. The Cards have a runner on first, with one out and the eighth and ninth hitters coming up against lefty Mike Hampton. The TV analysts are blathering on about how Tony LaRussa has Mark McGwire available to pinch hit (and the cameras spend much time focusing on Big Mack in the dugout, staring intently at his lumber¾as if he was trying to psych a homer into his bat), but that LaRussa absolutely cannot use him unless he represents the tying or go-ahead run at the plate.
“LaRussa, who reportedly chafes at George Will’s description of him as a dugout genius, obviously agreed with the announcers’ analysis. Placido Polanco bats for himself, making an out, and then ── instead of McGwire ── Tony sends up Fernando Tatis to pinch hit for Darryl Kile. Tatis has been benched, the announcers inform us, because he’s been trying way too hard of late to hit home runs and striking out regularly in the process. Fernando obligingly goes down swinging, and the Cards’ threat is over without ever using McGwire ── presumably, because putting him in under circumstances that couldn’t at least tie the game would’ve completely “wasted” his plate appearance.
“Absolute horsepucky! Despite his injury-limited 16 plate appearances during the second half of 2000, Big Mack¾even with a bad knee¾was the pinch hitting equivalent of a 100-megaton device waiting to explode, and from Bobby Valentine’s viewpoint the Cards’ dugout probably looked just like a South Dakota missile silo with its sliding doors open at that instant. But Valentine never had to face any moment of truth, because LaRussa kept his missile in its silo and never turned the key.
“LaRussa’s club had just demolished the Braves, three games-to-zip. During that series, he used McGwire three times as a pinch hitter. In game one Mark was intentionally walked in the eighth inning with St. Louis leading 7-4; in game two he hit a solo, pinch homer in the eighth with the Cards ahead, 9-4; and in the finale he grounded out in the eighth with his team leading 7-1. None of those instances put McGwire in the batter’s box with the game on the line, or even close to it.
“Now, LaRussa is playing at home, in a relatively close ball game, for the chance to get into the World Series, and is suddenly afraid to “waste” McGwire simply because the situation cannot give him a tie or the go-ahead run. Hey, Tony, a two-run homer in that spot would’ve put you back in the game, with six or seven more outs (including the last at-bats) to score two runs, rather than four! If I’m managing, especially after the way my team has handled Atlanta, I’ve got to like my late-inning chances playing at home in a 3-2 game a lot better than one we trail by 3-0. Also, it’s doubtful (albeit debatable, because he’s a gambler) whether Valentine would have McGwire intentionally walked, advancing a runner to scoring positon, if (1) he bats for Polanco with less than two outs (as the double play is already in order and Big Mack is slow afoot), or (2) he bats for the pitcher with Fernando Vina (a .300 hitter) and the top of the Cards’ order due to follow.
“But even worse, the decision to opt for the inexperienced and free-swinging Tatis (and “save” McGwire for a “later” that never occurred during that contest) sent a negative message to the rest of LaRussa’s team¾implying that Big Mack, injury and all, was so crucial to St. Louis’ long-term chances against the Mets that he couldn’t be “wasted” in a situation where they were dying for a run of any kind, let alone a two-run homer. It reminded me of the 1987 World Series, when Whitey Herzog took the best team in baseball that season into the Humpty Dumpty Homerdome in Minneapolis, spent most of the series babbling loudly to the media how his team of jackrabbits couldn’t possibly win a game in that long-ball-happy ballpark, and promptly convinced his own club to go 0-4 at that venue, losing a fall classic they could’ve, and should’ve won. Hey Tony, having the bomb doesn’t mean a thing if you’re not willing to use it every so often, just to keep your opponents wary.”
By now you have surmised that I have distinct problems with LaRussa’s postseason managing. As if that 2000 NLCS against the Mets wasn’t bad enough, Tony also managed his team out of the postseason in 2001-02, making exactly the same mistake at the crucial moments of the decisive playoff games that ousted the Cardinals from the World Series chase. On both occasions ── against Arizona in 2001 and the Giants in 2002 ── he opted not to pinch hit for an obviously tired Matt Morris, with runners on base, while nursing a one-run lead, when an insurance tally (or several) was desperately needed. The Cards failed to score both times, after which a worn-out Morris went out and promptly surrendered the lead and the St. Louis season.
I don’t blame Morris for that, as I’m sure he was trying his best and simply ran out of gas. In both instances, LaRussa faced a decision about whether or not to stick with his obviously worn-out best pitcher when the chips are down or go to a bullpen that everyone in the country knew was shaky. Given that, I can understand a pilot’s desire to stay with the hoss that brung him. But, on both occasions LaRussa also had one of the best benches in baseball, with plenty of pinch hitters who were capable of driving in a run or two to give that wobbly bullpen a cushion. Somehow, those pens had been good enough to get St. Louis into the postseason each time, and you’d think that would’ve bought them at least enough faith from their skipper to believe they could hold a multiple-run lead for an inning or two.
This is LaRussa’s 26th season as a major-league pilot, which ties him with Sparky Anderson and Gene Mauch for the fourth-longest managerial career in MLB history, trailing only Connie Mack (53 seasons), John McGraw (33) and Bucky Harris (29). All of those men but Mauch have been elected to the Hall of Fame as skippers. Through Tuesday’s games LaRussa had posted a 2107-1840 (.534) career record as a pilot. To date, every other manager with 2000 career victories has been elected to Cooperstown, and ── if the Hall of Fame ever figures out a voting procedure that allows its recently retooled Veterans Committee to actually elect someone ── Tony will undoubtedly join them. His clubs have now finished first, or tied for first in their division ten different times. They’ve won three pennants and one World Series. If they win it all this season (and obviously I hope they will), he will become the only big-league skipper besides Sparky Anderson to win a World Series with teams from both leagues. For the past 15 years or so, due mainly to his innovations in utilizing computerized data and bullpen talent, LaRussa has been recognized as a designated managerial “genius” (although some of that credit should also go to Dave Duncan, his longtime pitching coach and apparently joined-at-the-brain dugout partner for life).
But my problem with LaRussa and the Cardinals’ chances for a World Series victory in 2004 is twofold. First, he seems to manage differently in the playoffs than he does during the regular season ── when, to be honest, I have few complaints to make about him. In a regular-season game, the Mark McGwire-related critique above probably would have never been relevant, as any skipper would obviously hold an injured Big Mack out of such a contest. But relevant to the Matt Morris-related cases of 2001-02, I have never seen LaRussa go too long with a tired starter during a regular-season contest, and ── if anything ── it seems he is often too quick with the hook instead.
Second, and perhaps more telling, LaRussa has a depressing history of not having his clubs mentally ready for the playoffs, a problem which has seemed all the more manifest in seasons when they clearly were the best team around and should’ve won, in some cases even breezed to a championship. For example:
In 1983 LaRussa guided the White Sox to the American League West title with a 99-63 record that was 20 games better than their closest divisional rival, a game better than the 98-64 mark posted by the Orioles in the AL East and the best in the majors. Chicago’s offense and pitching were basically the equal of Baltimore’s that year: the Sox scored 800 runs, the O’s 799; Chicago had two guys with 30 or more homers (Ron Kittle and Greg Luzinski) plus two others with at least 20 (Carlton Fisk and Harold Baines), while Baltimore had just one guy above 30 dingers (Eddie Murray) and another above 20 (Cal Ripken, Jr.); LaRussa’s pitching staff included the league’s Cy Young winner (LaMarr Hoyt, 24-10), another starter with more than 20 victories (Rich Dotson) and five double-digit winners in all, compared to four for Baltimore, whose top starter (Scott McGregor) had just 18 victories; Chicago’s staff ERA (3.67) was the virtual equal of the Orioles’ (3.63). At the very worst, that club should’ve been good enough to extend the Baltimore to the full five games in the AL playoffs. Instead, it barely squeaked by in the first contest, by a tally of 2-1, and then got outscored 18-1 in the next three games, dropping the ALCS by three games to one.
LaRussa’s next shot at glory came with the Oakland A’s in 1988, and there was simply no doubt that he possessed the best team in baseball. Oakland finished 104-58 (.642) that season. They had American League MVP Jose Canseco, who led the circuit with 42 homers and stole 40 bases. They had the AL Rookie of the Year in shortstop Walt Weiss. They had future Hall of Famers Dennis Eckersley and Mark McGwire, plus Dave Stewart, Bob Welch, Carney Lansford, et al. They breezed past the Red Sox, three games to one, and waltzed into the World Series to face a Dodger team that won ten fewer contests that season, should’ve been beaten in the NL playoffs by the New York Mets, and whose star, senior-circuit MVP Kirk Gibson, was too injured to play more than one at-bat in the series. But Gibson’s lone at-bat was a game-winning homer off Eckersley in series contest number one, and the A’s played the rest of the fall classic like a Triple-A club, losing four games to one.
Oakland did win the series in 1989, albeit abetted by an earthquake which depressed everyone and made the whole thing seem irrelevant or insignificant at best. But when they returned to the fall classic in 1990, with virtually the same team as the two previous campaigns, and facing a Cincinnati club with a season record that was 12 games worse than their own, they were swept, looking more like little leaguers than professionals.
LaRussa moved on to St. Louis in 1996, winning an unexpected divisional title in his first year there. The Atlanta Braves were clearly the NL’s best team that season, having posted a won-lost record that was eight games better than the Cardinals’, and there was no valid reason beyond blind faith St. Louis to make the World Series as result. But, after sweeping San Diego in the NLDS, they somehow went up on Atlanta by three games to one. At that point ── especially since game five was in St. Louis ── you’d think they would’ve closed out Atlanta. But the Cards lost the next three games, two of them by embarrassing scores of 14-0 and 15-0.
I’m not arguing that the White Sox of 1983 or the Cardinals of 1996 should’ve won the World Series. I’m not even saying that the A’s of 1988-90 should’ve won all three, as that might be more than anyone had a right to expect. But with the exception of 1989, each of the first four incidents involves teams that were equal or superior to their opposition playing far beneath their talent level when it really mattered, and all five instances evidence situations where LaRussa’s clubs were either psyched-out early or choked when they had a big lead. If that had happened with just one franchise, I might be inclined to blame the players. But it seems to be a pattern that has followed LaRussa wherever he’s gone as a skipper.
Tony LaRussa is an intelligent man with a law degree. He’s also a very decent human being, as evidenced by his huge investment of personal time and energy over many years on behalf of animal rights. Unlike some animal lovers, he also treats people just as well. My favorite story about LaRussa involves a moment late in the 2000 season when the Cards were fighting for a playoff spot, Mark McGwire was already suffering from the injury noted above and other injuries had depleted the St. Louis bench. At the time, their back-up first sacker was Eduardo Perez, whose father Tony Perez was about to be inducted into Cooperstown. Aware of their dire straits, the younger Perez went to LaRussa and told him that he would skip attending the HOF induction ceremony because the team needed him badly. Whereupon LaRussa informed Perez that his father’s induction was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and that if Eduardo didn’t attend it Tony would option him to the minors the next day.
Clearly, LaRussa’s human priorities are in order. As a Cardinals fan who hasn’t tasted the ultimate victory for 22 seasons, I’d very much like to see him get his postseason act together this time as well. Unfortunately, Tony’s career history and the team’s behavior in the last couple weeks have trained me to expect the same old song in 2004, and ── with apologies to The Four Tops ── to wonder whether, if that happens, Cards faithful will be singing …
Now it’s the same old song,
But with a different meaning
Since you’ve been gone.
