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BALTIMORE ORIOLE EARL WEAVER--THE EARL OF BALTIMORE

Earl Sidney Weaver (August 14, 1930 – January 19, 2013) managed in MLB for 17 years with the Baltimore Orioles (1968–82; 1985–86). Weaver's style of managing was summed up in the quote: "pitching, defense, and the three-run homer." He did not believe in placing emphasis on "small ball" tactics such as stolen baseshit and run plays, or sacrifice bunts. He was inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1996.

Hall of Fame pitcher Jim Palmer, who battled with his manager on a regular basis, once noted: "The only thing that Earl knows about a curve ball is he couldn't hit it." After Palmer's skills began to decline and he was no longer a regular starter, Weaver defended his actions by claiming he'd given Palmer "more chances than my ex-wife." He has also directed such a remark at Mike Cuellar, ace of the 1969 staff, and several other players.

As a minor league manager, he compiled a record of 841 wins and 697 defeats (.547) with three championships in 11½ seasons. Weaver earned a promotion when he was appointed to replace Gene Woodling as the Orioles' first-base coach on October 3, 1967, and spent the first half of the 1968 season in that capacity before succeeding Hank Bauer as manager on July 11.

During his tenure as big-league manager, the Orioles won the American League pennant in 1969, 1970, 1971 and 1979. In 1969 the Orioles were defeated in the World Series in five games by the New York Mets team known as the Miracle Mets. In 1970 the Orioles won the World Series by defeating the Cincinnati Reds (The "Big Red Machine") in five games. In 1971 the Orioles lost the World Series in seven games to the Pittsburgh Pirates. Pirates pitcher Steve Blass pitched a complete game and gave up four hits in the deciding seventh game, allowing the Orioles to score one run.

In 1979 the Orioles again lost the World Series in seven games to the Pittsburgh Pirates. Pitchers Jim BibbyDon RobinsonGrant Jackson, and Kent Tekulve held the Orioles to four hits and one run in the deciding seventh game. In 1982, Weaver announced he would retire at the end of the season, one which saw the Orioles wallow at the back of the pack for the first half of the year before climbing in the standings to just three games behind going into a season-ending four-game series against the division-leading Brewers at Memorial Stadium. The Orioles beat them handily in the first three games to pull into a first-place tie. The final game of the series, and the season, on October 3, would decide the AL East title. Televised nationally on ABC, the Orioles suffered a crushing 10-2 loss. After the game, the crowd called for Weaver to come out. This tribute to the retiring Weaver provided intense emotion against the backdrop of the season-ending defeat, as Weaver, in tears, stood on the field and applauded back to the fans, and shared words and an embrace with Brewers manager Harvey Kuenn.

Owner Edward Bennett Williams coaxed Weaver out of retirement in 1985, but a losing season in 1986 prompted his permanent Major League retirement. Weaver's managerial record is 1,480–1,060 (.583), including 100+ win seasons in 1969 (109), 1970 (108), 1971 (101), 1979 (102), and 1980 (100). He only had one losing season in his managerial career, with the 1986 Orioles. Weaver also boasts a record high 94.3 wins per season.

RICK on EARL WEAVER

There will never be another Earl Weaver. His abrasive, combative personality would never play in today’s major league clubhouses. But there is absolutely no questioning his superior managerial skills. He expected and almost always got the best out of his players. He kept stats on players and their tendencies on index cards; long before computers were available to provide that information. Some of his line-ups and batting orders defied logic, but Earl knew the stats and was almost always correct. In his initial stint as the O’s manager, his teams were either finishing first or battling right down to the wire. He once said that his tombstone should say "World's Worst Loser Ever".

Weaver was ejected from games at least 91 times during the regular season (98, according to one source) and several more times during post-season play. He was ejected from both games in a doubleheader three times. He was ejected before a game started twice, both times by Ron Luciano. Luciano alone ejected him from all four games of a minor-league series and eight games in the majors.

He also received four multiple-game suspensions. He was well known for the humor that often accompanied his ejections. During one particular tirade with an umpire, Weaver headed to the dugout screaming, "I'm going to check the rule-book on that" to which the umpire replied, "Here, use mine." Weaver shot back, "That's no good—I can't read Braille."[citation needed] He once told an umpire that he could appear on What's My Line? wearing his mask, chest protector and ball/strike indicator and still nobody would guess he was an umpire.

Weaver had a penchant for kicking dirt on umpires, and for turning his cap backwards whenever he sparred with umpires in order to get as close to them as possible without actually touching them.[citation needed] His rivalry with Luciano was legendary, to the point where the AL rearranged umpiring schedules for an entire year so that Luciano would not work Orioles games. A year later on August 26, 1979, in the third inning of the opener of an Orioles-White Sox doubleheader at Comiskey Park, he ejected Weaver who then publicly questioned Luciano's "integrity" and received a three-game suspension. Still, Weaver had respect for Luciano, calling him "one of the few umpires that people have paid their way into the park to see."

Marty Springstead was one of Weaver's least favorite umpires. On September 15, 1977, in Toronto, Weaver asked Springstead to have a tarpaulin covering the Toronto Blue Jays bullpen area removed; the tarp was weighed down by bricks and Earl argued that his left fielder could be injured if he ran into the bricks while chasing a foul ball. When the umpire refused to order the Blue Jays to move the tarp, Weaver pulled the Orioles off the field. The umpire declared a forfeit, the only forfeit in Orioles history. On another infamous occasion, in Cleveland, Springstead watched as Weaver tore up the rule book and tossed it into the air.

One of Weaver's most infamous tirades came on September 17, 1980 in a game against the Detroit Tigers. First base umpire Bill Haller, who was wearing a microphone for a documentary on the daily life of an MLB umpire, called a balk on Oriole pitcher Mike Flanagan. Weaver charged out of the dugout and began screaming at Haller, who was already angry at Weaver for publicly questioning his integrity by suggesting he be prohibited from working Tigers games in 1972 because his brother was the Tigers' backup catcher at the time. After Weaver was ejected, he launched into a profanity-filled argument with Haller that was duly recorded. During the tirade, Earl accused Haller of blatantly calling the game out of the Orioles' favor. He also accused Haller of poking him in the chest; after Haller denied doing so, they called each other liars. Weaver's contempt for umpires was often mutual. One night in 1973 Weaver threw his cap to the ground and began a vehement argument with Luciano. Luciano's crew-mate Don Denkinger walked over to Weaver's cap, stepped on it with the sharp cleats of both shoes, and slowly twisted back and forth.

Weaver's oft-quoted managerial philosophy was "pitching, defense, and the three-run homer." Weaver expanded on his philosophy in three books he authored: Winning! (1972); It's What You Learn After You Know It All That Counts (1983); and Weaver on Strategy (1984), which was republished as Weaver on Strategy: The Classic Work on the Art of Managing a Baseball Team (2002, with co-author Terry Pluto). Weaver eschewed the use of so-called "inside baseball" or "small ball" tactics such as the stolen base, the hit and run, or the sacrifice bunt, preferring a patient approach ("waiting for the home run"), saying "If you play for one run, that's all you'll get" and "On offense, your most precious possessions are your 27 outs". Weaver claims to have never had a sign for the hit and run, citing that the play makes both the baserunner and the hitter vulnerable, as the baserunner is susceptible to being caught stealing and the hitter is required to swing at any pitch thrown no matter how far outside the strike zone or how unhittable the pitch is.[citation needed]

Weaver strongly believed in finishing as high in the standings as possible, even if a championship was not involved: In 1977, the Oriolesentered the final weekend of the season tied for second place in the AL East with the Red Sox, three games behind the division-leading Yankees, to play a scheduled three-game series against the Red Sox in Boston, while the Yankees played three at home against Detroit. The Red Sox won the first game of the series, 11–10, on September 30, eliminating the Orioles from division title contention; however, after the game Weaver insisted, in an interview with a reporter, that "we're still trying to finish second." The following day, the Orioles won, 8–7, eliminating the Red Sox (the Yankees having lost on both days) and leaving the teams tied for second place headed into the series' and the season's final game, which was rained out, resulting in the Red Sox and Orioles finishing in a tie for second place. Weaver also insisted that his players maintain a professional appearance at all times. He allowed mustaches, but not beards, and, as a rule, players had to wear a suit or jacket and tie on board an airplane for a road trip.

Weaver made extensive use of statistics to create matchups that were favorable either for his batter or his pitcher. He had various notebooks with all sorts of splits and head-to-head numbers for his batters and against his pitchers and would assemble his lineups according to the matchups he had. For example, despite the fact that Gold Glove shortstop Mark Belanger was a weak hitter, in 19 plate appearances he hit .625 with a .684 on-base percentage and .625 slugging percentage against Jim Kern and would be slotted high in the lineup when facing him.Similarly, Boog Powell, the 1970 American League MVP, hit a meager .178/.211/.278 against Mickey Lolichover 96 plate appearances and would be substituted, possibly with a hitter like Chico Salmon, who hit a much more acceptable .300/.349/.400 against the same pitcher.

Weaver made use of the bench. In the Oriole teams of the late 1970s and early 1980s, Weaver made frequent use of platoons, with the most obvious example being the use of Gary Roenicke and John Lowenstein in left field, without affordable full-time solutions. Weaver also exploited a loophole in the designated hitter rule by listing as the DH one of his starting pitchers who would not be appearing in that day's game. This gave him another opportunity to exploit pitcher-batter matchups, in the case the opposing starting pitcher left the game early because of injury or ineffectiveness before it was the DH's turn in the batting order. A rule was created to stop the use of this tactic, allegedly (by Weaver) because it was distorting pinch-hitting statistics. Weaver used radar guns to track the speed of pitched balls during the 1975 spring training season.

My souvenir from Orioles manager Earl Weaver and his feud with Jim Palmer

by JON BECKER BAY AREA NEWS GROUP January 19, 2013

After the initial sadness I felt when I heard Hall of Fame manager Earl Weaver had passed away Friday night, I chuckled at my memories of being around the man 30 years ago.

I didn’t really know Weaver, but I did spend 5-6 days a year with him in the early 1980s when the Baltimore Orioles played in Oakland. He’d mostly say “Hi” or “Wash this, kid” or “Go see if (A’s manager) Billy (Martin) posted his (expletive) lineup.” Just one of the perks of working for the A’s as a batboy and clubhouse attendant for the visiting teams then. But those brief visits were enough time for me to get a glimpse into what made Weaver so fascinating.

And one of my favorite keepsakes from my days at the Coliseum involves my living proof of Weaver and his love-hate relationship with eventual Hall of Fame pitcher Jim Palmer.

First, let me set the scene.

It was early in the 1982 season and these were frustrating times for the Orioles, and my memento shows it. Weaver’s team came into Oakland with a 10-16 record. Palmer had an ERA over 7.00 and Baltimore’s heralded rookie, Cal Ripken Jr., was hitting .169 and wouldn’t begin his record consecutive games played streak for another two weeks.

In short, they were a mess.

I remember tensions rose in the Orioles clubhouse on an early May evening after Baltimore blew a five-run lead and suffered an extra-inning loss to the A’s. Palmer, a proud, All-Star starting pitcher, had been summoned into that game by Weaver as a middle reliever. Palmer gave up two runs and after the game he made sure everyone in the clubhouse knew he was angry.

He yelled at Weaver, who was in the adjacent manager’s room. Weaver, who never turned down the chance to participate in a profanity-laced argument, stormed into the locker room, shouting and cursing at Palmer as the two moved closer to each other. From players, to coaches, to clubhouse workers, to batboys, we all stopped and watched these two grown men scream at one another.

I’d seen a lot of stuff in my years working at the Coliseum, but never had I seen a more surreal episode than this.

After taking their argument behind closed doors in Weaver’s office, Palmer emerged a couple minutes later, still with the look of anger on his face.

An hour or so later, with the players having left, Weaver and his coaches were still in the locker room while us workers washed uniforms and cleaned shoes. Oh, and one player remained. Cal Ripken Jr., the man who would forge his own Hall of Fame career, was still sitting at his locker, half dressed, with a bat in his hands and his head down. His struggles at the plate seemed to be weighing on him.

I’ll never forget seeing the compassionate side of Weaver as the little general walked past Ripken’s locker, tapped his rookie on the knee and said, “Get some rest, kid and let’s get ’em tomorrow.”

Ripken contributed a hit the next day in an Orioles win over the A’s. Then, on the last day of the series, Ripken hit a home run in another loss to Oakland.

But I’ll always remember that final day of the series as the day I got my souvenir of the Palmer vs. Weaver war.

As often happened, I was asked to take a baseball around the locker room and get it signed by the team. It was truly one of the more trying tasks we had, mainly because some players would get annoyed with having to sign in their relaxed setting.

I asked Palmer, who was much nicer to us than he was to his manager, to sign the ball. As he started to sign it, I saw him committing the cardinal sin of any major league baseball player — he was signing it on the “sweet spot” of the ball! Everyone knows that spot is reserved for the manager’s signature.

I quickly blurted out to Palmer, “No, not there!” He shot a smirk my way, handed the ball back to me and walked away, knowing full well that he had infringed on Weaver’s territory.

After a few minutes of debating whether or not to ask Weaver to sign the ball, I realized turning in an autographed team ball without the manager’s autograph would only get me in trouble. So, I walked into Weaver’s office and politely handed him the ball and asked him to sign.

He then looked at the sweet spot and saw Palmer’s signature and immediately spewed out a string of four-letter words stacked upon six- and seven-letter curse words. Fortunately, his anger wasn’t directed at me.

Still angry, nonetheless, Weaver then proceeded to squeeze his signature into the sweet spot, right on top of Palmer’s.

“There, here ya go,” said Weaver, satisfied that he’d one-upped Palmer.

I wasn’t giving up this baseball, I told myself then.

When I heard of Weaver’s death Saturday morning, I replayed this story from 30 years ago in my head. Then I went into my closet, pulled out that signed Orioles baseball, looked at the sweet spot and just smiled at the memories I’ll always have of that man.

(from Wikipedia)

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