Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1908-06-28
METHODS OF BASE BALL MANAGERS;
TWO MUCH CRITICISM AND TOO
MUCH PRAISE ARE EQUALLY BAD
By Clarence L. Cullen.
Special Correspondence of The Star.


\ man who for many years has been
intimately connected with the major
league base ball business in official and
other capacities. whose name. for reasons
that will be obvious. can't be used. was
commenting the other night upon the
methods which different ball club man
agers employ in order to get the work
out of their players.
There are too many different kinds OF
ball club managers to be classified" he
said. but they can all be tagged. so 10
speak They all think their way OF going
at the job of bucklng their men up to the
Job is the best. It's as natural for them
TO think that as it is for the rest of US
to imagine that we're pretty nearly right
in everything that we do.
Zone manager that 1 know of. whose
team has taken an awful slump this year,
belongs 10 the nagging class. Hes the
pick-picker. sure enough. He never
leaves off nagging. Nothing that his
men can do satisfies him. He's the critic
then he criticises before and after the
game He picks on the gang individually
and he picks on them collectively. He
picks on them privately and he SHOWS
them up by picking on them before their
mates. No matter if q man on his team
is doing perfect work, this manager has
got something to kick about in connec-
ton with that mans work. 1t doesn't
make any difference If the man is pulling
off a couple of hits every game, the man.
ager persists in telling such a player that
ne doesn't stand at the plate right. Even
if a pitcher heaveS corklng game ana
pulls it out of the fire. this manager tells
that pitcher after the game how he, the
finger made a boob of himself at several
critical stages. The worst of it is, he's
never there with word OF praise. he
doesn't offset his nagging by jollying. 1t
would help a lot if he'd only mix in
little of the occasional con and bunk with
his nagging, but he isn't built that way.
The result is that his men are worked UP
10 high pitch of nervousness all the time
through fear of becoming recipients OF the
hot-off-the-stick wallOpS of their boss.
and, that being the case, they can by
any possibility be in shape to deliver the
best brand of goods they've got in stock.
The Sarcastic Manager.
Another manager. at the head of a
pretty good club, is one Of your sarcastic
take-offs. He's there with that vitriolic
stuff. Some way or another he seems to
have discovered, or to have been told.
many, many years ago, that he was hu-
morist with a barby tongue and that idea
has so grown on him and possessed him
that he just can't make that same tongue
behave in handling his players. He's Tor
acid cracks. directed at one of his play
ers. that burns into the mans pelt and
makes him groan inWardly. 1t does worse
than that; it makes the burnt)man sore
and sulky and unmanageable. This man
ager is worse than the nagger. because
his stuff hurts more 1t just makes ball
players tired to have peevish person
with the nagging spirit after them all the
time But IL makes them vindictive, ugly,
and, worse than all, careless as to wheth-
err they make good for the team or not,
when their manager is funnyist who
preens himself upon what he supposes to
be IN ability to yank in thos" como sup
plement hot ones at the expense OF his
men.
Zone of his good hitters. for example.
whiffs. You're the Honus Nogner with
the pole. all right the manager drives at
him You could nit Barters Little Liver
Pills with lemonade straws for bats and
nudge into the 400 class, couldn't you?
It's bum comedy at best. and the ERECT
of that sort of stuff upon a man who is
disposed to do the best he knows how is
something fierce.
He doesn't save up his hot ones mere
~ for the fellows who make little slip
ups or who happen to boot few. Hes
there with the jabs right after one Of his
men has made fine play. The man may
feel little sweliy over the good stuff
even if he doesn't show 1t on the surface,
and this sarcastic manager seems to
think it's up to him to comb a man down
who has delivered a fine lot OF merchan-
disc. Swell up. now he says to such a
man. and ask for a new contract for
SIX years. You're the big top and the
eatemoney drawer. If it wasn't for you
we wouldn't draw enough TO pay BUS
lire out to the lot Swell up-thats 1t"
You can easily imagine the effect Of this
kind of stuff upon ball players, who are
sensitive lot. and. skilled as this man
ager is in picking out men and in direct
ing them in other respects. I suppose
there is not manager in the business
who is more profoundly disliked by his
troupe.
climb up the mountain wall to Montene-
gro or the BLACK mountain Cattaro
is the natural port for Montenegro, but is
jealously guarded by Austria, and it was
not until We had assembled for more than
hour that We came to the striped
black and yellow post that marks the
boundary. Our driver stopped to water
the horses. to collect his revolver (left
at wayside hut, as it is forbidden to
carry weapons over the border). and
pointed to his native crags above. saying.
proudly. "Crnagora. We turned for
last look at the superb view spread out
below US. the sea shimmering in the dis
tance and at our feet the land-locked
Bocche guarded by the mighty Orjen
and the peaks of Herzegovina to the
north and west.
We reached Njesus by the waning
light. This our first MOntenegrin town
vas the birthplace of the prince. and is a
village with one wide street and small
low stone houses. Wherever there is
sufficient space little patches of vege-
tables are cultivated in series Of stone
TRACES. built TO keep the precious soil
from being swept away by the heavy
rains. These little garden plats give d
curiously checkerboard aspect to the val
leys and hilIsides in contrast to the
wastes Of rocks above.
From NjeguS we climbed steadily up
through the same dreary crags. even
more solitary and impressive in the moon
light, and reached the top of the pass
$500 feet). from which Cettinje can he
seen in the daylight. Scarce a trace of
habitation was to be seen. We stopped
10 water the horses at a wayside hut
Wild young girls shyly waited on us
then passed a solitary dwelling and
heard the minor wall OF the one-stringed
Husle (the national musical instrument)
and strong bass voice singing one OF
the old ballads, probably about the Tar
Lazar and the field of kosovo. or posi-
bly, of the doings of the singers own
Immediate forefathers in border fray
against the hated Albanians.
The Capital of Montenegro.
The Europe We know is left far behind.
We drop suddenly from the complexities
of modern life into the peace and SIM
plicity OF the patriarchal system. still in
force in this strange little state, where
east and west meet so subtly. Here a
mans life is Of small account. but he will
hold his honor above all earthly price.
while the ambition of every boy is to be