McCarthy's Miscues and the Red Sox Dynasty That Never Was

When World War II ended the Boston Red Sox were poised to overthrow the Yankees as the top dogs in the American League. The Yankees and Tigers, their top competition in the Junior Circuit, were graying teams with aging superstars. The up-and-coming Sox had been on the brink of a breakout before their stars went off to war, winning 93 games in 1942 to cap a run of six straight winning seasons. Boston's nucleus still mostly in its prime, the Sox seemed assured of multiple pennants before the decade was out. They had the pieces in place to end their championship drought, which at that point was coming up on three decades.

The Olde Towne Team signaled their dominance by running roughshod over the league in 1946, storming to 104 regular season wins in baseball's first postwar season. On the eve of Boston's World Series showdown with the St. Louis Cardinals, the future for the heavily-favored Red Sox was brighter than at any point since Harry Frazee sold Babe Ruth to the Yankees and effectively set his team back 15 years (or 86, depending on who you ask). 

St. Louis stunned Boston in seven, winning the final game on Enos Slaughter's improbable mad dash around the bases on Harry Walker's double--a play made possible, I might add, only because Dom DiMaggio came out of the game in the top half of the inning, leaving defensive replacement Leon Culberson to patrol center field in his stead. Culberson misplayed Walker's single into a double, thereby allowing Slaughter to score the go-ahead run that decided the series.

When the Red Sox returned home following their Series defeat, the first in franchise history, it seemed certain they would be back. If not next year, then the year after that. There appeared to be many more pennants in store for them.

Nobody could have guessed that it would be 21 more years before Boston made it back to the Fall Classic, and were it not for the September heroics of Carl Yastrzemski and Jim Lonborg in 1967, it would've taken almost 30. In 1947 the defending AL champs tumbled to 83 wins and third place as arm troubles devastated the pitching staff and several regulars--DiMaggio, Bobby Doerr, Rudy York, and even Ted Williams--saw their production decline to varying degrees. By the season's halfway point Joe Cronin's club was already 11.5 games behind New York, out of the race in mid-July. 

Boston bounced back in 1948 under former Yankee skipper Joe McCarthy, who made one of the more puzzling and oft-criticized decisions in baseball history by starting Denny Galehouse in the do-or-die tiebreaker game for the pennant against the Cleveland Indians. Galehouse, of course, got shelled in what turned out to be the final start of his major league career, and Boston lost 8-3, missing out on their one and only chance for an all-Boston World Series (the Braves won the National League flag by relying on Warren Spahn, Johnny Sain and two days of rain).

Winners of 96 games in 1948, the Sox won 96 again in '49, and again fell one win short of a trip to the World Series. McCarthy again proved to be Boston's undoing, overmanaging the last game of the season with the pennant on the line. With his team at bat but losing 1-0 in the top of the eighth, five outs from elimination, he lifted starting pitcher Ellis Kinder for pinch-hitter Tom Wright with nobody on (Wright walked, only to be wiped out by DiMaggio's double play). 

In hindsight, McCarthy's move to sub out Kinder doesn't look great but was certainly defensible. If Wright got on, which he did, then it was a good bet that DiMaggio (.404 OBP in '49 and .383 for his career) would also reach base. If DiMaggio didn't then it was still equally likely that Pesky (.407 OBP that year) would keep the inning alive for Ted Williams. Both DiMaggio and Pesky were .300 hitters as well, meaning they were more than capable of driving in a run with somebody in scoring position. That DiMaggio grounded into a double play, something he did only 10 times in 1949, was a most unlikely outcome and worst-case scenario. With eight round-trippers that year, he was nearly as likely to put one in the seats.

But he didn't, and so the game remained 1-0 heading into the bottom of the eighth. That's when McCarthy made his mortal error; bringing in Mel Parnell, who had to be exhausted from pitching the day before and a league-leading 295.1 innings that year (59.1 of which came after August 31st). Whereas McCarthy's greatest sin in 1948 had been passing over a rested Parnell in favor of Galehouse on the season's final day, here it was relying on Parnell to keep New York at bay when the young lefty simply had nothing left. 

It was immediately clear that Parnell had nothing, as he came in and promptly served up a leadoff home run to Tommy Henrich, then a single to Yogi Berra. McCarthy removed Parnell from the game, but by then, in the span of only two batters, Boston's win probability had been more than halved, from 14 percent at the start of the inning to just 5 percent when Parnell walked off the mound. 

McCarthy's next move was to bring in Tex Hughson, who hadn't pitched in three weeks and made only two appearances in the previous month. To his credit, Hughson induced a double play off the bat of Joe DiMaggio. The third out, however, proved to be elusive, as Hughson loaded the bases in what would be the final inning of his major league career. Rookie Jerry Coleman, the Yankee's number eight hitter, broke Boston's back by doubling to right on a ball that Al Zarilla caught, but lost control of when he slammed to the ground in the process of doing so. The bases-clearing double gave New York a five-run edge that would prove insurmountable, for Boston's three-run rally in the top of the ninth was not enough.

A prodigious drinker, McCarthy began hitting the bottle hard after that. He returned for the 1950 season but was often absent. When he did show up to the park, he was usually hung-over and disengaged. It took Red Sox ownership 59 games to dismiss him, with Boston barely above .500 at 31-28. 

Under new manager Steve O'Neill, the Sox won nearly two-thirds of their remaining games. On the morning of September 19th they had climbed to second place, only one game out of first with twelve to play. But, just as they had the previous two seasons, the Sox slumped at the season's most critical moment, losing four straight and six of their next eight to let another pennant slip away. They settled for third, four games off the pace. Had O'Neill been managing all along, or had Williams not missed two months after colliding with an outfield wall during the All-Star Game, the pennant probably would have been theirs.

1951 followed a similar script, with Boston taking control of first place for a while in late July and remaining near the top of the standings until the season's final week. On the morning of September 18th they were in second place, 2.5 out with 13 to play. They endured another epic collapse, winning only one game the rest of the way and finishing the year 11 back of the Yankees, who won their third straight pennant. With better play down the stretch, all three of those pennants could have gone to Boston. 

By 1952 the Red Sox championship window had closed. De facto team captain, Hall of Fame second baseman and key RBI man Bobby Doerr retired after the '51 season. DiMaggio, their stoic leadoff man, center fielder and on-base machine, was 35 and in his final full season. Pesky, less of a sparkplug at 33, would be traded in June after slumping at the start of the season. The indispensable Williams would play just six games before returning to war, this time in Korea. Slugging shortstop Vern Stephens' best days were behind him. With the team's core aging out, nobody in Boston's depleted lineup hit 20 home runs or knocked in 70 runs that year. The pitching staff, an odd mix of hurlers young and old, had only two post double digit win totals, led by Parnell's 12. 

Without Williams, the Lou Boudreau-led Sox stumbled to 76-78 that year, marking the end of their days as serious championship contenders. They wouldn't exceed 84 wins in a season until Dick Williams took over in 1967, by which point everyone from those halcyon days had long since retired. 

Looking back, it seems impossible to believe the great Sox teams of the late '40s and early '50s managed only one pennant. They certainly had the hitting, but never quite enough pitching, defense or speed. That they were run first by the incompetent Joe Cronin, then later by a washed-up alcoholic, did not help and can not be ignored. With a more capable skipper to steer them, the Red Sox could and should have won three or four pennants and at least one World Series. The Yankees and Dodgers owned the postwar decade, but the Red Sox wasn't far behind, only a few breaks away from building their own dynasty in Boston.

As fate would have it, those doomed teams were destined to be remembered for their near-misses than the one pennant they actually won. The optimism and high expectations engendered by their incredible 1946 season quickly gave way to misery and heartache, lending itself to writing several of Boston baseball's most painful chapters. These seasons brought about the first real heartbreaks in Red Sox history, the frustration of coming so close, of being right there, inches from the goal line, but not finishing the job. 

Unfortunately, it was a feeling which generations of Red Sox fans would become all too familiar with over the next half-century. 

When Duty Called: Part Two

A continuation of the post I wrote last winter, when I projected Hank Greenberg, Joe DiMaggio, Bob Feller,  Johnny Mize, Ted Williams, Whitey Ford, and Willie Mays to see what their career numbers would have looked like had they not sacrificed several seasons to serving their country.

Dom DiMaggio (1943-1945)
It is often said that while Joltin' Joe was the better hitter, his little brother was the superior center fielder. Like Tris Speaker before him, DiMaggio earned a great reputation on defense for his ability to play shallow and still get back on deep fly balls. Despite his diminutive Dustin Pedroia-esque stature and bookish appearance, he was no slouch with the bat either. DiMaggio batted .301 as a rookie and cemented himself as Boston's leadoff man. The seven-time All-Star never had a bad year and hit .298 for his career, same as Jim Rice and Mickey Mantle. DiMaggio could steal a base and had a great eye at the plate, too, using his .383 OBP to set the table for Red Sox run producers Vern Stephens, Bobby Doerr, and of course the Splendid Splinter. He missed his age 26 through 28 seasons serving in the Navy, lost time that probably cost him a plaque in Cooperstown. Nevertheless, he spent his entire 11-year career with the Sox and has a claim as the best leadoff hitter in team history (no disrespect to Johnny Damon).
1943-1945 averages; 98 runs, 174 hits, 30 doubles, 8 triples, 11 home runs, 61 RBI, 68 BB, 250 TB, 13 steals
Career totals; 1,340 runs, 2,202 hits, 398 doubles, 81 triples, 120 home runs, 801 RBI, 954 BB, 3,113 TB, 139 steals

Johnny Pesky (1943-1945)
Passed away last summer, but his legacy lives on. Pesky enjoyed one of the best rookie seasons of all time when he took over as Boston's everyday shortstop in 1942. Besides leading both leagues with 205 hits, Bobby Doerr's double-play partner also batted .331, scored 105 runs and finished third in the MVP voting behind Joe Gordon and Ted Williams. The Needle hitched a ride in the Navy and lost out on three prime years that would have bolstered his Hall of Fame case. To his credit, he didn't skip a beat when he rejoined the Red Sox in 1946. He made his only All-Star team, paced the Junior Circuit with 208 base knocks and set personal bests across the board, production that merited his fourth place finish in the MVP race. Pesky never again seriously challenged the award, but topped the league in hits once more the following year and continued to play at a high level until the Sox dealt him to Detroit in 1952. He eventually made his way back to the Red Sox and dedicated most of his adult life to serving the organization in various capacities until his death at the age of 93. Rest in Peace Johnny Pesky.
1943-1945 averages; 110 runs, 207 hits, 36 doubles, 7 triples, 53 RBI, 53 BB, 262 TB, 11 steals
Career totals: 1,207 runs, 2,076 hits, 334 doubles, 71 triples, 560 RBI, 821 BB, 2,618 TB, 86 steals

Enos Slaughter (1943-1945)
"Country" Slaughter will always be remembered for his "mad dash" around the bases that propelled the St. Louis Cardinals to a Game 7 win over the Boston Red Sox in the 1946 Fall Classic. The play embodied Slaughter's speed, hustle, and aggressive style he used to lay the foundation for his Hall of Fame career. He had already been recognized as one of the top players in the Senior Circuit prior to the war with two All--Star nods and a second place finish in the MVP race to teammate Mort Cooper in 1942, a year in which Slaughter paced the league in hits, total bases and triples. After spending his age 27 through 29 seasons in the service, he returned strong in '46 to lead the major leagues with 130 RBI and help St. Louis secure its fourth pennant in five years. He finished third in the MVP race that year behind Stan Musial and Dixie Walker. Slaughter went on to play 13 more seasons, latching on with the Yankees near the end of his career as a role player and helping Mickey Mantle, Yogi Berra and co. add a few more championships to Casey Stengel's ledger.
1943-1945 averages; 100 runs, 186 hits, 31 doubles, 13 triples, 16 home runs, 114 RBI, 79 BB, 288 TB, 9 steals
Career totals; 1,547 runs, 2,941 hits, 504 doubles, 187 triples, 217 home runs, 4,463 TB, 1,255 BB, 98 steals

Pee Wee Reese (1943-1945)
Reese was a top prospect in the Boston Red Sox farm system before player-manager-shortstop Joe Cronin forced a trade that sent Reese to the Brooklyn Dodgers, where he put together a Hall of Fame career. While he didn't hit for much power early on, his plus defense and plate discipline helped him make his first All-Star squad in 1942. Reese joined the Navy in '43 and served in the Pacific theater. After the war, He emerged as one of the top shortstops in the game as well as a cornerstone of a Brooklyn dynasty that captured six National League pennants from 1947 through 1956. He made nine consecutive All-Star squads and received MVP consideration in eleven straight years. Eight times he placed in the ballot's top ten, an impressive feat considering he shared a roster with perennial MVP candidates such as Duke Snider and Roy Campanella. More importantly, the Kentucky native befriended Jackie Robinson and supported his new double play partner throughout the legend's strenuous debut in 1947. After ceding his starting role to Charlie  Neal, an African-American, ten years later, Reese made the move out west with the Dodgers as their backup infielder but played just one season in the City of Angels before retiring.
1943-1945 averages; 83 runs, 149 hits, 20 doubles, 4 triples, 4 home runs, 57 RBI, 85 BB, 196 TB, 13 steals
Career totals; 1,587 runs, 2,619 hits, 390 doubles, 92 triples, 138 home runs, 1,056 RBI, 1,465 BB, 3,626 TB, 271 steals

Warren Spahn (1943-1945)
After making just two starts for the Boston Braves in 1942, Sphan put his baseball career on hold to fight for Uncle Sam in the U.S. Army. A combat engineer, he received a Purple Heart and fought in the Battle of the Bulge. He returned from overseas a more mature, disciplined pitcher after surviving his baptism by fire on the frigid front lines. He went on compile 363 wins and stake his claim as the best southpaw starter in the sport's history, on par or better than Lefty Grove, Sandy Koufax and Randy Johnson. Some think the war prevented him from winning 400 games and/or passing Walter Johnson for second place on the all-time wins list behind Cy Young. Spahn was not so sure. He crediting the military for accelerating his development as well as prolonging his career, which lasted until he was
1943-1945 averages; 16 wins, 15 complete games, 3 shutouts, 208 innings pitched, 100 strikeouts
Career totals; 411 wins, 427 complete games, 38 shutouts, 5,867 innings pitched, 2,883 strikeouts

When Duty Called

Can you imagine Albert Pujols, Alex Rodriguez, and Justin Verlander giving up their massive paychecks to enlist in the armed services?  What if Dustin Pedroia volunteered for combat duty in Afghanistan, or Evan Longoria wound up kicking in doors for a special ops team? Seems unfathomable, right? During World War II, it was commonplace for stars to put down their bats and gloves and pick up a rifle for their country.  It truly was a different time back then.  Following in the footsteps of Ty Cobb, Eddie Collins, and Christy Mathewson who served in the Great War a generation before them, dozens of future Hall of Famers dropped their bats and gloves and picked up rifles.  Many players from the Greatest Generation only lost a season or so, but a few special cases gave multiple seasons in the prime of their careers to their country. 

I know this has been done before, but I thought it would be fun to see what their career numbers might have looked like had they been allowed to continue their careers uninterrupted. I'm not even including players who had their careers delayed a few years by the war, guys like Ralph Kiner who got a late start.  Obviously we can never know what would have happened; maybe Joe DiMaggio would have crashed into a fence in the 1943 World Series or Bob Feller would have blown out his arm on a cold spring day in 1945, but for the sake of the project let's assume that they would have stayed healthy during the war years.  I also included Whitey Ford and Willie Mays, who along with Ted Williams lost time to the Korean conflict.

For the projections, I simply averaged the stats from their last full season before the war with their first full season back, then multiplied those averages by the amount of years they lost and tacked them on to their career totals.  For players who played partial seasons, such as Hank Greenberg in 1941 and Willie Mays in 1952, but still lost most of the year, I subtracted the numbers they put up in those years from their career totals before adding in their projected full season numbers.

Hank Greenberg (most of 1941, all of 1942-1944, first half of 1945)
Hammerin' Hank, who had been originally classified as 4F by the Detroit draft board for flat feet, was reexamined and deemed fit to serve in 1940, the year he won his second MVP award.  Greenberg was the first American League player to be drafted, and played only 19 games in the unforgettable 1941 baseball season.  Interestingly, he received an honorable discharge on December 5th, 1941 because Congress was releasing men over age 28 from service, and Hank was nearly 31. After Japanese bombs crippled the nation's naval base at Pearl Harbor, Greenberg re-enlisted and joined the Army Air Force, the first major league player to do so.  He would serve 45 months in the military, the longest of any major league player, and lost his age 30-34 seasons.  Fortunately for Detroit, their first baseman came back just in time to help lead his Tigers to the pennant and a World Series victory over the Chicago Cubs.  Greenberg paced the Junior Circuit with 44 dingers and 127 ribbies the following season, but he was already 35 and hung up his spikes after a one year stop in Pittsburgh (who "purchased" the slugger from Detroit for $75,000 before the 1947 season to team him with the powerful Ralph Kiner in the middle of their order).
1941-1945 averages; 110 runs, 170 hits, 40 doubles, 43 home runs, 139 RBI, 87 walks, 350 TB
Career totals; 1,542 runs, 2,376 hits, 554 doubles, 531 home runs, 1,899 RBI, 1,229 walks, 4,714 TB

Bob Feller (1942-1944, most of 1945)
Rapid Robert had already established himself as the premier flamethrower in the bigs when he joined the navy the same day FDR delivered his "Day in Infamy" speech and volunteered for combat service. He missed his age 23 through 26 seasons, but returned to make nine starts down the stretch for the Tribe in '45.  He picked up right where he left off over the next two years but was never the same dominant pitcher after turning 30.  Feller reached his zenith in the 1940s, and had the war not interrupted his career, we'd be talking about him in the same breath as Walter Johnson and Roger Clemens as one of the greatest power pitchers of all time.  His strikeout totals jump out the most since batters back then whiffed about half as frequently as they do today.
1942-1945 averages; 26 wins, 32 complete games, 8 shutouts, 357.1 IP, 304 Ks
Career totals; 365 wins, 400 complete games, 75 shutouts, 5,184.1 IP, 3,738 Ks

Joe DiMaggio (1943-1945)
Like Greenberg before him, the Yankee Clipper joined the Army Air Forces.  After turning in a subpar (by his lofty standards) season in 1942 (at the time setting career lows in doubles, home runs, batting average, slugging percentage, OPS, and total bases) he sacrificed his age 28,29 and 30 seasons smack dab in the prime of his career and was never the same player when he came back to patrol "Death Valley."  His nagging Achilles heel caused him to miss a lot of time, and despite a pair of monster seasons in 1948 and 1950 the second half of his career pales in comparison to the first.  More importantly, the war most likely cost Joltin' Joe the chance to tie Bill Russell's eleven championship rings.  He retired with nine, and the Yanks won the Fall Classic without him in 1943, so if he and his teammates had still been playing it's probable they would have returned in 1944 and/or 1945.
1943-1945 averages; 102 runs, 166 hits, 24 doubles, 10 triples, 23 home runs, 104 RBI, 280 TB
Career totals; 1,696 runs, 2,712 hits, 461 doubles, 161 triples, 430 home runs, 1,849 RBI, 4,788 TB

Johnny Mize (1943-1945)
Many baseball fans don't know Mize, which is a shame because he was one of the best hitters in baseball from 1936 through 1948. The Big Cat topped the NL in slugging four out of the five years before missing his age 30-32 seasons. These projections are probably on the low side, since he swatted 91 longballs and knocked in 263 runs in 1947-1948, but he had only eclipsed 28 homers once before those two seasons.  By '49 he was done as an everyday player, but the Giants shipped him across the Harlem River just in time for Mize to win five straight rings with the Yankees.  He didn't get much playing time from Casey Stengel, but still managed to contribute with the stick when he did play and was the top hitter in New York's Subway Series triumph over the Brooklyn Dodgers in the '52 Fall Classic.
1943-1945 averages; 84 runs, 146 hits, 22 doubles, 24 home runs, 90 RBI, 61 BB, 250 TB
Career totals; 1,370 runs, 2,449 hits, 433 doubles, 431 home runs, 1,607 RBI, 1,039 BB, 4,371 TB

Ted Williams (1943-1945, most of 1952 and 1953)
Teddy Ballgame was the only major star to miss time to both World War II and Korea.  The Kid lost his age 24, 25, and 26 seasons while serving as an aviator in the Marine Corps.  Considering he won the Triple Crown in 1942 and took home his first AL MVP award in '46, one can assume the Splendid Splinter would have continued to rake during the mid-40s. He served another stint in the Marines in 1952 and '53, costing him all but six games of the '52 campaign and 37 games the following year.  By then he was already 35, and assorted aches and pains would prevent him from playing more than 136 games in any of his final seven seasons.  Assuming Williams could have stayed healthy, his projected career numbers would rank him as the indisputable "Greatest Hitter Who Ever Lived", a title he still holds even without the benefit of those seasons.
1943-1945 averages; 142 runs, 181 hits, 36 doubles, 37 home runs, 130 RBI, 150 BB, 340 TB
1952-1953 averages; 101 runs, 151 hits, 26 doubles, 30 home runs, 108 RBI, 140 BB, 270 TB
Career totals 2,407 runs, 3,458 hits, 679 doubles, 678 home runs, 2,408 RBI, 2,730 BB, 6,353 TB

Whitey Ford (1951 and 1952)
Ford only made a dozen starts in 1950 but after finishing runner-up in Rookie of the Year voting he had clearly earned a spot in the rotation, so I used his 1953 and '54 numbers for his projections.  The Chairman of the Board spent his age 22 and 23 seasons in the Army and missed out on a pair of World Series rings, since the Yankees were in the process of winning five consecutive championships.
1951-1952 averages; 17 wins, 11 complete games, 3 shutouts, 208.1 IP, 118 Ks
Career totals; 270 wins, 178 complete games, 51 shutouts, 3,587 IP, 2,192 Ks

Willie Mays (most of 1952, all of '53)
The reigning NL Rookie of the Year was just 21 years old when the Army drafted him, and as a result he only played 34 games in 1952 and lost all of '53.  The Say Hey Kid didn't take long to get back in the swing of things as he walked away with the MVP trophy the following year, cranked out 51 four-baggers in '55 and was off and running (literally). Had he not missed those two years, it's very likely that Mays, not Hank Aaron, would have been the one to break Babe Ruth's career home run record in the early 1970s.  As it is, the best all-around player in history still compiled some gaudy career numbers.
1952-1953 averages; 89 runs, 161 hits, 28 doubles, 31 home runs, 89 RBI, 298 total bases
Career totals; 2,240 runs, 3,605 hits, 579 doubles, 722 home runs, 2,081 RBI, 6,662 total bases