The Blame of the Game

Gene Mauch took one for the team in '64.

by Scott Schaffer

No one took the Phillies seriously in the spring of 1964. Why would they? The franchise had set the standard for sports ineptitude throughout its 81-year history. They'd never won the World Series. Three years earlier the Phillies lost 107 games, including a record 23 in a row.

Against that backdrop, the Phillies started strong and battled for first place through the summer of '64. On Sept. 21, the team returned to Connie Mack Stadium with a 6.5-game lead in the standings with 12 remaining. Philadelphia rocked with anticipation.

What happened next amazed the baseball world and scarred the city for decades. The Phillies lost 10 consecutive games and finished in second. No team has ever blown a lead that large so close to the finish line. The collapse was a defining event in the lives of fans, players and coaches.

At 38, Gene Mauch was the youngest manager in the National League. Considered a brilliant tactician and teacher, he coaxed superb defense, solid pitching and clutch hitting from his modest corps. By September he was the city's foremost celebrity, but in two hideous weeks Mauch's reputation crashed with the team's fortunes. Ask sportswriters and fans why the Phillies fell apart 40 years ago. Two words: Gene Mauch.

It's tempting to buy into this universal wisdom, now ingrained in Philadelphia folklore, but there's little evidence to support it. Mauch is a convenient scapegoat, and the story tells us more about how street legends develop than how the Phillies folded.

Mauch allegedly precipitated the meltdown by burning out his two best pitchers, Jim Bunning and Chris Short, starting them on two days' rest in the stretch run. In fact, Mauch employed this tactic just once during the losing streak. And it had worked well; Short surrendered just one earned run in 7.3 innings in that loss. Mauch used his aces on short rest three times thereafter, an unusual move taken in response to circumstances already well out of control. Injuries had decimated his pitching staff; the manager's few alternatives included starting 19-year-old Rick Wise, who would have faced unimaginable pressure. Bunning and Short were proven veterans who had volunteered for extra duty.

Far from panicking or "over-managing," Mauch played the percentages in choosing his starters over the final week. Few recall that the pair ultimately halted the skid, winning the last two games of the season and giving the Phillies a faint chance to tie St. Louis. How did a series of rational decisions become a textbook example of poor managing? It started with the media.

Each of Philadelphia's daily newspapers had a lead baseball pundit: Sandy Grady of The Evening Bulletin, Larry Merchant of the Daily News, and Allen Lewis of the Inquirer followed the unfolding calamity. They generally took the high road, offering cautious analyses of events and balanced views of Mauch. At the season's end, Grady and Merchant minimized the importance of the Bunning-Short factor, imparting alternate explanations. Lewis broke ranks and unloaded on Mauch. After praising the manager's earlier performance, Lewis cited a litany of managing mistakes, beginning with Mauch's starting-pitcher selections. This was the most detailed attribution of the Phillies' collapse to the Bunning-Short factor to date, and reporters for national publications soon amplified this explanation.

The story has morphed over the years. A common tale in Philly's barrooms is that Mauch used Bunning and Short exclusively during the skid. (Reality: They started three games apiece.)

Mauch refused to publicly defend his decisions. His brash personality put off reporters and opposing players, who were too willing to see the manager fry in public. With no resistance, the myth filled the void. Mauch wasn't perfect in 1964, but most observers agreed he deserved principal credit for the Phillies' pennant run. He signed off with dignity that's rare in our time -- defending his players and accepting full responsibility. He retired in 1987, never managing in the World Series. That's what he's best known for.

Like Philadelphia, Gene Mauch deserved better.

Scott Schaffer (sc_schaffer@yahoo.com) has written about issues ranging from social issues to baseball history for the Philadelphia Inquirer, Seattle Post-Intelligencer and Chronicle of Philanthropy. If you would like to respond to this Slant or have one of your own (800 words), contact Brian Hickey, City Paper managing editor/news, 123 Chestnut St., third floor, Phila., PA 19106 or e-mail hickey@citypaper.net.