Frequently Asked Questions

What inspired the research on baseball managers?

I'll be honest - the best way to answer this is to cut'n'paste what I say in this site's launch article:

The idea for this book first popped in my head when I saw Phil Birnbaum give a presentation at the annual SABR convention in 2006. He created a database to determine how much teams under/overachieved in a given season. He termed the disparity luck. However, while luck is certainly one factor that explains why a team would do better or worse than one might expect, it's not the only reason. For example, looking at the results it was amazing how "lucky" teams managed by Earl Weaver always were, or how "unlucky" Don Baylor's squads were.

Two elements of Birnbaum's database really caught my attention. He created two algorithms - one for hitters and the other for pitchers - to determine if a player did better or worse in a given season based on how he performed in the two previous and two succeeding seasons. These algorithms (based on Runs Created and Component ERA respectively) appeared to be a real breakthrough to me. They promised to be the first things produced that could really measure the impact a manager could have on his players.

However, I didn't want to claim these things measured coaching just because I thought so. I sought some further evidence. To that end, I divided all teams in MLB history into one of four categories: those helmed by managers who lasted at least 2,000 games, 1,000-1999 game managers, 500-999 game managers, and 499 or fewer.

My rationale was simple - assuming there is any correlation between length of managerial career and skill (and that's an assumption I feel incredibly safe in making), the longer a group of managers lasted, the better they should do. If it were luck, that would not be the case - the longer a group lasted the more luck should even out. It's awful tough to be the luckiest group when each individual has a sample size of 13+ seasons on the job.

Furthermore, I theorized that if the algorithms represented skill, the gap between the two middle groups (the 1,000 to 1,999 guys and the 500 to 999 guys) would be the smallest overall. They were the two most mediocre groups while the 2000+ and 499- groups should have an undue proportion of the best and worst managers pulling them away from an average score. However, if Birnbaum's work (henceforth referred to as the Birnbaum Database) measured only luck, the gap between the 1000s and 2000s would be smallest, because of the large sample sizes involved.

Much to my delight, the test confirmed my belief that the Birnbaum Database indicated what impact a manager had on his team. Please note this falls short of 100% indisputable evidence, but the evidence is strong enough for me.

I should note the Birnbaum Database actually covered five different areas. Aside from the two algorithms, he also looked at : 1) deviation from expected win-loss records based on pythagenpat projections, 2) actual team runs scored versus expected run scoring based on overall offensive production (again using Runs Created), and 3) team runs allowed versus expected runs allowed (based on Component ERA).

I wasn't sure what to expect from these final three components, but the results from the 2000s/1000s/500s/499s test also indicated some managerial impact. The results aren't as strong as they were for the two algorithms, but they were far more in line with what one would expect from managerial skill than from pure luck. I theorized that the runs allowed/scored components focus on in-game tactical ability of managers (just because a stolen base is worth X-runs on the whole doesn't mean each stolen base is worth that), and pythagenpat deviation might say something about how he structures the roster. I'm willing to believe that all five components indicate managerial ability, but the two algorithms are the two I'm unquestionably sold on.

While the above inspired me to investigate managers, it wasn't until I created a database of my own that I felt I could write a book on managers. I call it the Tendencies Database. It's inspired by a brief segment in the Bill James's Guide to Managers in which James notes how often different managers led the league in certain statistics, ranging from bunts to homers. I took it a step further. With Excel, I incorporated how well all a manager's teams ranked in a given category rather than just the times they led the league.

The notion was simple: figure out where all a manager's teams ranked in a given category, adjust for league size (which is actually a bit more difficult than it sounds), and compare the managers across era. In the results, 1.000 is always an average score. The lower score usually means the manager fared better in that stat. (It might sound odd that lower means better, but it makes sense because the Tendencies Database is based on how teams rank in a given category. Ranking first is a good thing usually as well as the lowest possible rank).

I ran several dozen queries with the Tendencies Database, including obvious ones like which manager liked to sacrifice bunt or use the most relievers. I also ran trickier to research ones, such as who relied the most on their starting lineup and who used their bench the most often. To answer that question, I determined what percentage of a team's plate appearance went to their starting eight position players (or nine in a DH league) for every team in history. I've never seen it studied, but it certainly is important.

In fact, even with the simple queries such as who sacrifice bunts the most I adjusted to find a more accurate result. The sacrifice comes only when there is someone on base, so rather than look at simply SH, I take SH divided by opportunity, to see which managers bunted the most when they had the chance.

I limit the Tendencies Database to skippers who lasted at least ten seasons as a team's primary manager. As an added bonus, since an average score is always 1, you can combine results to determine items such as who was the biggest small ball manager of all time (add together the sacrifice hit and stolen base results) or any similar idea. The Tendencies Database is explained in greater depth on pages 110-113 of The Hardball Times 2008 Annual

Neither the Birnbaum Database nor the Tendencies Database are perfect analytical tools for evaluating managers, but then again imperfection is not a synonym for useless. For lack of a better way of putting it, I kept my BS Detector on when looking at the data to figure out when they illuminate our knowledge of managers and when it's distort it. By and large, they provide a lot of helpful information on the peculiarities and distinctions of baseball managers.

There is a third avenue of exploration used to evaluate managers, but this one works only with managers from the mid-1960s or earlier. It used to be that a manager would decide who his starting pitcher would be based on the identity of the opposing squad rather than have them pitch in the modern ABCDE rotating order. I call this practice pitcher leveraging, because the goal was to leverage your best arms for the most important games in order to make those contest count as much as they could in the team's favor.

I created a few stats to evaluate the degree of pitcher leveraging. First is AOWP+, (the acroynym stands for Average Opponent Winning Percentage) which I debuted in a column over at The Hardball Times. AOWP+ determines if an individual pitcher was leveraged in a season. A score of 100 means he wasn't at all, a higher score means he faced quality teams a disproportionate number of times, and a lower score means the opposite.

Based on AOWP+, I created a stats called LPA (Leverage Points Added) and LPA+ (which adjusts LPA for era, as pitcher leveraging ebbed and flowed over time). Both LPA and LPA+ apply to managers. The more extreme the AOWP+s were under a manager, the higher his LPA and LPA+ wil be. (Like AOWP+, an early version of LPA and LPA+ were used in a Hardball Times column).

I only look use AOWP+ and LPA+ for managers from 1876-1965 because leveraging clearly came to an end in the mid-1960s. And when I say it clearly came to an end, I looked up over 90% of all starts from 1876-1969 and a chunk of starts from 1970-onward, and there is no evidence of leveraging existing as a meaningful strategy. Ultimately, LPA+ and its ilk are a side note in my book, but it's still an important sidenote, especially given that as far as I know, no one has studied how managers leveraged their pitchers in any meaningful way.

The heart of the book, however, isn't on math, but on managers. The first part of the book consists of three chapters explaining the above areas in much more detail (and providing key results as to the best/worst/most extreme managers of all time), but that merely sets up the second part of the book. In the six chapters in part two, I apply the above to 89 of the most important managers in baseball history. Those 89 include the 77 managers who lasted at least 10 seasons as a team's primary manager from 1876-2008, and a dozen of the most important others. (Two of those dozen others - Mike Scioscia and Terry Francona - managed their tenth season in 2009).

I can honestly say that I'm proud of my entries on each of the 89 managers. They're not all of equal value - sorry all you Jimmy McAleer fanboys, but your guy isn't the highlight of the book - but I found something to say about all of them.

What is the most important part of a manager's job?

They are first and foremost managers of men. Managing the game is only a secondary job function.

Along those lines, in a column for ESPN.com years ago, baseball writer Rob Neyer asked a GM what he talks to men about when they interview to be managers. They don't talk bunts or pitch counts. They discuss communication - how the manager can help players get the right frame of mind to play to their utmost abilities. Similarly, in a SABR convention in 2008, Cleveland GM Mark Shapiro was asked what the most important elements for a manager to have. He said communication, self-awareness, and prioritization. The first point was the same as the Neyer interview. The second point allows the manager the have the affect he desires with his players Prioritization ensures he's handling the right problems.

Both the Neyer column and the Shapiro comment share the same underlying principle: handling players is the key concern, not tactical genius.

As a result, the single highest compliment you can pay a manager is not that he knows when to bunt or that he writes up a good lineup card - but that you consistently can't imagine his team doing any better than they did year after year. That's a manager getting the most out of his players.

How important is in-game decisions in the manager's overall job?

It matters, no doubt about it. Things like batting order, fielder positioning, instructions to pitchers, determining who plays, and perhaps most importantly of all handling the pitching staff all help the team win (or lose) games.

That said, the importance of these tactical decisions are frequently overrated by the public. It's the only part of the manager's job we can really rate, so it often becomes the only thing we judge managers by.

Ultimately, managers are like icebergs: most of what they do goes on beneath the surface, invisible to the casual observer. If you ask many fans one-on-one, they'll agree that the most important parts of the job are the ones we can't see, but then listen to sports radio or read the baseball blogosphere - and most thoughts on managers center on things like who batted seventh in last night's game.

Who is the greatest manager in baseball history?

Easy one: Joe McCarthy. He may not be as closely associated with the job as John McGraw, but there was none finer than McCarthy. In over 20 seasons of managing, he never had a losing season - not even in his partial seasons. That's almost impossible. In comparison, among the dozens of guys with more than five seasons managed, only one other guy always had a winning season. McCarthy was over 20 years.

He had a plan to win, implemented it as effectively as possible, and kept doing it year after year, with more than one franchise.

Who is the worst manager in baseball history?

Well, I suppose the real worst manager is someone who never lasted a full season. Looking for the worst manager is like looking for the worst player - the real bottom of the barrel guys don't last long enough to rate in the discuss.

The worst managerial career (meaning the longest and largest negative impact) would probably belong to either Jimmie Wilson or Don Baylor. Wilson was a 1930s and 1940s manager who failed badly with the Phillies and Cubs. In his defense, the Phillies were utterly terrible for three decades, and he happened to work in the worst of that stretch. Then again, they had a winning record shortly before he arrived. Also, the Cubs got much better right after he left. He ended his career 242 games under .500, easily the worst mark ever.

Don Baylor was the worst modern manager. As a Cubs fan, I had the misfortune of watching him work when managed the team. He was terrible. He was lax with veterans, didn't like kids, and the pitchers nearly revolted on him (as well they should have - he was dreadful at handling a pitching staff). His only redeeming feature was his willingness to talk to the media - especially to give quotes slagging off on his own players.

Who is the best manager currently out there?

Tony LaRussa is the best manager since World War II. He's been consistently among the best managers in the game for almost three decades now, continually getting the most out of his players year after year, team after team. At this point he's managed more games than John McGraw: did anyone ever think they'd see a manager do that?

Who is the most underrated manager in baseball history?

Charles Comiskey. No one ever thinks of him as a manager, but he was one, and he was absolutely brilliant. He won four pennants in a row with St. Louis in the 1880s. The only other managers to do that are current and future Hall of Fame managers (Harry Wright, John McGraw, Joe McCarthy, Casey Stengel, and Joe Torre). Please note that Comiskey had considerable authority in determining his club's roster when he managed them.

The important thing about Comiskey is that he pioneered an entire approach to winning that has been picked up by numerous other managers and clubs over the years. He prioritized position players who could field their position and pitchers who had superior control. This created a symbiotic relationship between hurler and fielder than led to run prevention units that were greater than the sum of their parts. It's how his St. Louis teams won, and also how his Chicago White Sox teams won when he owned them.

More than that, numerous others have adopted this approach, perhaps no one more zealously than Earl Weaver. Many people have walked this path to victory, but Comiskey was the one who first blazed the trail.

Who is the most overrated manager in baseball history?

Wilbert Robinson. He's easily the least deserving Hall of Fame skipper. He made it in to Cooperstown because of his personality. He was a lovable old guy people would tell stories about. It also didn't hurt that he was once a teammate of John McGraw - that helped him stay in the popular memory. Looking at his record, though, he was better than Chuck Tanner but not as good as Dusty Baker. He may have been a great guy, but he certainly wasn't a great manager.

Have any more questions? Send me an e-mail.