Sparky

“I’ve got my faults, but living in the past is not one of them. There’s no future in it.”--Sparky Anderson

Sorry, Sparky. But today I'm going to live in the past. The past of a four year old boy watching his beloved Cincinnati Reds defeat the Boston Red Sox in perhaps the greatest World Series ever. And that of a five year old boy who watched one of the greatest teams ever assembled repeat the very next year by sweeping Reggie Jackson and the vaunted Yankees out of the fall classic. The past of an eight year old boy who nearly cried his eyes out when the foolish General Manager of the Reds, Dick Wagner, committed the greatest mistake in the history of the franchise by firing the manager of The Big Red Machine in 1978.

This is my past, my history.

Sparky Anderson died yesterday at the age of 76 from complications brought on by dementia.

I was genuinely surprised to learn that Sparky was "only" 76 when he passed. Sparky always seemed to be afflicted with Burgess Meredith disease. Already silver haired with deep creases in his often smiling face at the age of 36 when he was hired by the Reds in 1969. It's as if he sprung from the womb as an old man and biology never saw fit to correct its mistake.

That of course does not make his shuffling off of this mortal coil any easier to take.

It's not just that Sparky Anderson was a great manager, but--seemingly--according to all that knew him, he was a great man too.

Some have argued that Anderson was overrated as a manager. Hell, he would probably agree with them. As he once said, “The players make the manager. It’s never the other way.” And make no mistake, Sparky had great players with the Reds. Johnny Bench, Pete Rose, Joe Morgan, Tony Perez, Dave Concepcion, Ken Griffey Sr., and George Foster were staples in his line up, and that would certainly make any manager's life easier. But it's really not that simple. Bench, Rose and Morgan were all big egos and didn't always get along. In fact, Bench and Rose couldn't stand each other. Sparky had to juggle all these egos while keeping the team united.

And here is where Sparky's genius as a manager came into play. He knew how to handle people. When the Reds were considering a trade, Anderson consulted with his "big four" (Bench, Rose, Morgan, and Perez) on whether that player would be a good fit in the club house. If the "big four" said yes, they brought the guy aboard. If not, then not. He also had a policy of treating the "big four" differently than the rest of the team. He told the rest of the guys up front that those guys had different rules to live by--no rules. This empowering of the best of the best on his team made them into leaders and created a healthy hierarchy. This might not have worked on every team, but Sparky knew his guys. And perhaps just as importantly, they knew him.

It's also important to note that Sparky was good at teaching fundamentals and utilizing strategy as well. His Reds teams didn't just hit home runs, they played defense and stole bases too. Second Baseman Joe Morgan, Catcher Johnny Bench, Shortstop Dave Concepcion, and Centerfielder Cesar Geronimo were all multiple gold glove winners and routinely saved the Reds pitchers tons of runs.

Most baseball people are aware that the Reds hit homers and played great defense. However, few knew just how well the Reds ran the bases. Most managers with a lineup full of sluggers would be satisfied with scoring runs via the big fly. Not Anderson. In all but one of the 9 years that he managed the Cincinnati Reds, they were in the top 5 in both home runs and stolen bases. Amazing.

Perhaps Sparky's greatest strategic addition to the modern game was his liberal use of the bullpen. It's easy to think of all the great Reds hitters he managed, but can anyone recall his pitchers? Jack Billingham, Rawley Eastwick, Pedro Borbon, and Don Gullett, anyone? You're forgiven if you don't. What Anderson was able to do with "B" level starters was pretty incredible. Nicknamed "Captain Hook" for his willingness to pull his starter out of the game and replace him with a situational reliever, Sparky was at the forefront of bullpen utilization. Bullpen masters like Larussa and Torre came much later. Now, everyone does what Sparky did over 30 years ago, only more liberally.

After the Reds front office lost its mind and cut Sparky loose, it wasn't long before another team came calling. In 1980, after several years of mediocrity (or worse), the Detroit Tigers hired Sparky to take over their team. He immediately made them respectable, soon a contender, and in his fifth year with the squad, World Series champions.

He did this with a less talented team than his Reds of the 70's and with solid citizens like Alan Trammell (who he would affectionately refer to as "Huck Finn") and Lou Whitaker, and large type jackasses like Jack Morris and Kirk Gibson. Once again, Sparky knew his guys, and they knew him.

To measure Anderson's greatness as a manager, one need only consider a few numbers:

2: The number of managers who had more wins under their belt when Sparky retired.

8: The number of managers who have won 3 or more world series.

And 2 again: The number of managers who have won a World Series in both the American and National Leagues (Sparky was the first).

Not bad.

But for all of that, he may be more revered for what people thought of him as a man.

ESPN Baseball Analyst, Tim Kurkijan considered him the most joyful manager he had ever been around.

His greatest players (Morgan, Rose, Bench, Perez, Trammell, Whitaker, and Morris) thought of him as not just their manager, but their friend, and their family.

For a person who spent most of his adult working life as a manager of the travelling road show that is a major league baseball team, he really didn't like to travel. Still, after he retired, he travelled a lot. Why? Because he liked to visit his former players and friends, but mostly because he couldn't turn down a charity.

He was a great manager and a great man. And not necessarily in that order.

He's also part of my past. The past of a little boy watching his favorite team on a three station television with wide eyes of wonder. He's the reason I love the Reds. Hell, he's the reason I love baseball.

I'm sure he wasn't perfect. I know he probably wasn't a saint. But just try convincing me otherwise. It won't be pretty.

Sumo-Pop
November 5, 2010