Case Study: The Texas Rangers Managers

Editor’s Note: This article, written by Randy Galloway, was originally published in the Dallas Morning News.

 

Okay, baseball lovers, you have come to the right town for your convention! At least, it’s the right town for doing a case study on managers.

It’s not that we have been around that long in the majors; it’s just that we have had soooooooooooooooo many managers come and go, win or lose, with the Texas Rangers — mainly lose, or, of course, there wouldn’t have been 13 of them in 23 seasons.

See what I mean? That has to be a record, doesn’t it — 13 managers in 23 years?

And there have been so darned good ones to come through here. Mr. Herzog and Mr. Martin, for example, are a couple of big winners for you — just not here, unfortunately.

As a Dallas Morning News sports writer who dealt personally with these 13 wither as the Rangers’ beatman for 10 years or as a columnist, I was nominated to give you a brief profile of each member of our managerial herd.

Opinions are my business. Some of those opinions are strong, and that is why some of these managers haven’t been on speaking terms with me in years.

But don’t look for a lot of negative stuff here. Whether my reviews in the past happened to be favorable or unfavorable, I still respected the job each and every one did — simply because it’s a very hard one. So here comes a quick 20-plus years of memories:

TED WILLIAMS (1972): The most fascinating of the bunch, Ted Williams was like a candy store. I couldn’t get enough of what he was selling, which, of course, was a ton of theories and opinions.

He was there for one season as a favor for then-owner Bob Short, but Ted was the big name on the team. The team was awful, but Williams was a jewel.

WHITEY HERZOG (1973): How many times have I said that the worst mistake the Rangers ever made was firing this guy? It was Herzog’s first managerial job, and, man, he was special. But by August, Herzog was ousted by Short. Whitey didn’t even make it through the ’73 season. I don’t think the baseball gods ever forgave the franchise. Whitey is the best I’ve seen at handling pitchers, even bad pitchers, which the Rangers had plenty of in 1973.

BILLY MARTIN (1973-75): When Short fired Herzog, he came under extreme media heat, so Short called a quick news conference to announce you-know-who as Whitey’s replacement. “I would fire my grandmother to hire Billy Martin,” said the late Mr. Short. Martin gave the franchise its first taste of winning, but it was same old story. Only Billy kept Billy from being the manager here forever. Once the first pitch was thrown, Martin ran a game better than anyone in the business. But it was before the game and after the game…Well, you already know that story. I liked the guy a lot. He was crazy, but he was one of a kind.

FRANK LUCCHESI (1975-77): As one of Martin’s coaches, Lucchesi was give the job when Billy was fired. It took Martin 10 years to forgive him, but if nothing else, Lucchesi brought class to the job. If there’s such a thing as being too nice a guy, Frank is guilty. But in the big picture, Lucchesi always will be remembered for being just that — a good human being. He’s still active today in helping feed the homeless in the DFW area.

EDDIE STANKY (1977): Now we see him; now we don’t. No one in history will have a better record (1.000 percentage) than Eddie. He was 1-0. Stanky was hired as a full-time guy, managed one game, and then climbed on a plane in Minneapolis and went home to Mobile, Alabama. Stanky simply didn’t want to do it any more. There have been many Rangers managers who wish they had done the same thing.

BILLY HUNTER (1977-78): Check his record (146-108). The players didn’t like him, so then-owner Brad Corbett fired Hunter. Let this be a prime example that the players usually don’t know squat when it comes to evaluating a manager. Not exactly a personable guy, Billy knew how to make a running game work, even without great speed. Despite his success here, Billy strangely never managed again.

PAT CORRALES (1978-80): Tied with Don Zimmer as my personal favorite among Rangers managers, Corrales was tough as hell, honest, and respected by the players. He also didn’t have the horses and didn’t win enough, so ultimately he was fired. It’s a story that has been told in baseball for 125 years.

DON ZIMMER (1981-82): If you don’t like Zim, you don’t like America, much less baseball. The best kind of people — that’s Don Zimmer. He was great at calling a game, but the knock on him was that he couldn’t handle pitchers. Zim’s problem here was that he didn’t have any pitchers to handle.

DARRELL JOHNSON (1982): Johnson finished up for Zimmer, and he had a chance to be rehired, but the team was a bummer. Darrell was swept away in a big housecleaning. I never heard him raise his voice, even on a team that was so bad that it made you want to scream.

DOUG RADER (1983-85): Rader came in with great expectations as a rookie manager, but his failure was an awful communications problem with the players. This was about the time that big money was changing the game forever because of how it altered the attitudes of the players. Rader was a young guy from the old school. He was never able to handle the needed adjustment, plus he made some bad snap judgments on prospects, particularly Tom Henke.

BOBBY VALENTINE (1985-92): Very good in so many areas on and off the field, Valentine is the ultimate lesson in what happens when a manager stays this long without ever winning a division. First, a power trip developed and then a paranoia that eventually fogged his judgment in how he dealt with front office people, players, prospects, coaches, trainers, etc. Bobby’s biggest problem was that he was allowed to hang around here forever.

KEVIN KENNEDY (1993-present): After a rocky start as a rookie manager, he had displayed the tenacity to overcome plenty — including his own mistakes. Kennedy has a tough side, and he doesn’t allow the small stuff to slide. He could be a good one in the making but … we have said that in Arlington before, only to have it fail to materialize — not here, anyway.