Kup's Chicago - Irv Kupcinet [75]
With Casey Stengel’s retirement from the Yankees, Alfonso Ramon Lopez became the dean of American League managers. During Stengel’s long and prosperous Yankee reign, Lopez was the only pilot in the league who could beat the Bombers in a pennant race – and he did it twice: in 1954, with the Indians, and in 1959, with the Go-Go Sox.
One of the game’s authentic gentlemen, Lopez is exceptional in that he prefers one-year contracts to longer ones, and refuses to jump a contract or even to consider another offer while an agreement remains in force. He is also remarkable in that he is followed to each new managerial assignment by a loyal coaching staff, led by ex-Dodger teammate Tony Cuccinello, who has been one of his closest associates for thirty years.
But the South Side holds no monopoly on front-office individualists. The Cubs of Wrigley Field can also claim one in their owner, chewing-gum tycoon Philip K. Wrigley. The Cubs’ president for more than a quarter-century, Phil is one of the most unusual men ever to head a big-league team. Although he enjoys owning his club, he very seldom watches its games. When he does, it is from a back row of the grandstand, instead of from his private box. He answers his own telephone in his Wrigley Building office, replies to all mail personally, and enjoys no spare-time activity more than tinkering with greasy engine parts in his private machine shop. The guest house and servants’ quarters at his summer place in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin, are larger than many a millionaire’s year-round mansion.
His father, William Wrigley, conceived the advertising axiom, “Tell ‘em quick, and tell ‘em often.” By following this rule, and a few of his own, P. K. Wrigley has tripled the market value of the Wrigley firm’s stock since taking over the reins. Other thriving family interests include the Wrigley Building and Wrigley Restaurant, a chain of hotels and resorts, mining enterprises – and the development of California’s Catalina Island, which he owns.
Die-hard Cub fans, steeped in the tradition of Grover Cleveland Alexander, Rogers Hornsby, Gabby Hartnett, Stan Hack, Phil Cavarretta, and other Cub stars, write Wrigley even more scathing letters than I get as a columnist. The fans have attacked such ideas of his as replacing the field manager with a committee of coaches. But many of Wrigley’s innovations have been more sensible than the fans realize. His coach plan, for example, has the laudable objective of improving instruction in the minor leagues and adding incentive both for players and coaches who otherwise would have no direct contact with the majors.
The great attractiveness of Wrigley Field is also due in large part to him. It is the only park in the major leagues that has never installed lighting for night games. Wrigley has refused to do so, out of deference to residents near the stadium, and because he believes baseball “should be played in God’s warm sunshine.” Advertising signs are standard in other parks. Wrigley won’t allow one, even on his scoreboard. And when the major leagues moved to the Pacific Coast, he could have held out for a huge windfall. Instead, to aid in the realignment, he quietly switched his Los Angeles minor-league franchise and gave up his West Coast Wrigley Field. Not many owners would have been so accommodating.
In spite of all the owner’s good intentions, however, the Cubs have undeniably suffered from several traits of the Wrigley personality. One is his intense personal loyalty, best exemplified in the managerial cliff-hangers known as “The Return of Charley Grimm,” “The Second Return of Charley Grimm,” and “The Third Return of Charley Grimm.” In some cases this loyalty has helped the team – but in others, it has stubbornly kept unproductive staff people in positions of power. It is also regrettable that Wrigley has never managed to delegate full authority, even to such astute aides as former General Manager James Gallagher, one of my ex-newspapcrman friends. But Wrigley explains it this way: “If I