The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1939-06-08

be rewarded. What can we do for
him? The fact that the big sports
figure may make more in a week
than the average person does in a
year is seemingly beside the point.
1t was a black mark against base
ball, according to calamity hOwlers,
that Babe Ruth wasn't given a man.
ayers job when he retired. He was
the games most cOlOrful figure,
packing the stands wherever he APP
peared and giving the best years of
his life to the diamond wars. Ruth
was the highest paid baseball play
er in history, signing contracts at a
top price of $4,000 per year. That
total didn't include income on royal
ties and syndicated newspaper stO-
ries. Yet Ruth's failure to find an
executive position caused wide<
spread wailing.
Unsung Heroes
Overlooked is the fact that each
year lot of fast, smart ballplayers
go by the boards. They, too, have
devoted their best years to the
game, but when the final day rolls
around they cast an agonized eye
over the bank book and wonder
where they're going to open a filling
station or lunch counter. They did
a lot for the game, but they weren't
heroes.
There seems to be some good rea-
son why great baseball stars aren't
usually picked when managers are
appointed. Some of them have, such
as iris Speaker, Cobb and Walter
Johnson. But they didn't last. The
most successful managers seem to
be those men who were good play
ers, but not great ones.
Connie Mack, the most widely
known, was once catcher-and a
good one. But experts don't rate
him with King, Bresnahan and
Archer.
Oscar Witt, Cleveland manager,
was formerly major league infeld-
er. He isn't remembered for his
outstanding ability as player.
Rather he was reliable performer
who played steady game. So was
Fred Haney, manager of the
Browns, also a former infelder.
Joe Mccarthy, the most success
full manager in baseball, could never
make the grade as a big-league
player. A second baseman, McCar-
thy's fame as player never spread
past the minors and his ability was
never tested in big-time competition.
Success Stories
Casey Stengel and Jimmy Dykes
were better than the average ball
player in their best years, but nei-
Their of them were world heaters.
Since they shed their uniforms
they've been doing better than all
right. Del Baker of the Tigers was
a catcher in his day, but didn't do
so well in the majors. That didn't
prohibit him from becoming a good
manager.
With so many players of average
ability making the grade as man.
ayers, it seems more than coinci-
dence that the stars fail in an exec
utive capacity. 1t seems, though, a
waste of sympathy to shed tears
over great man whose playing
career is drawing to a close. He
has made money, has a host of
friends and admirers and has led
the kind of an existence he wanted.
Because baseball doesn't offer him
managers job it doesn't mean that
moguls of the game are hard-heart-
ed wretches, casting off man when
his usefulness is over. A man may
be a great ball player, but lack the
essential qualifications of a good
manager.
Fortunately, ball club owners real
ize that.
1t is John @. Fan who raises the
big howl. That shouldn't bother the
big boys in the least. 1t shows a
healthy interest in the game-an in
terest that can be developed only
through big names and cOlorful per-
sonalities. If all baseball players
were efficient, automat0ns, nothing
more than robots, they wouldn't cap
ture the public's fancy, wouldn't be
elevated to the status of a hero.
And the fans, who foot the bills,
would stay away in drOves. They
make the heroes, and having made
them, are loath to see them
knocked from their pedestal.