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HISTORY SHOWS TIRADES NOTHING NEW AROUND WRIGLEY FIELD

  • ️Sun May 16 1999

Nowhere does history seem to repeat itself as it does at Wrigley Field.

When things aren’t going as well as expected, the ballpark can turn into not-so-friendly confines for players, managers and owners alike.

Ten years ago, closer Mitch Williams allowed three ninth-inning runs on three hits, two walks, a hit batsman and two wild pitches, blowing a game. After being booed off the field, Williams said he understood.

“If we don’t do something to make them cheer, why should they cheer?” he said. “The last six games our bullpen has stunk, and I’ve been the lead stinker.”

A decade later Rod Beck is the current Cubs closer with a target on his back.

Clearly frustrated Wednesday over his fourth blown save, Beck blew off some steam by heatedly and repeatedly answering questions with a term that approximates the expression “I stink.” The interview was halted in midbark when a Cubs media relations representative stepped in.

Yet even without a contribution from Beck, the Cubs have a rich history of speaking their mind, not always wisely. Here are three of the top tirades in Cubs history:

HERMAN FRANKS

Sept. 25, 1979

One day after resigning as Cubs manager, Franks, 65, called his players “whiners” and Bill Buckner “nuts” in a rambling interview. The final straw, Franks said, was the “constant whining” of reserve outfielder Mike Vail.

“I just got tired of being around him,” Franks said. “There isn’t enough money in the world to pay me to manage if I had to look at that face every day.”

Franks said Vail “made me sick.” He wasn’t all that crazy about Barry Foote either, turned off by the beefy catcher’s constant admonitions about doing things “the Phillies’ way.” But Franks saved his best shots for Buckner, whom he termed a phony.

“There haven’t been many people in baseball who have fooled me, but I have to admit that Buckner was one of them,” Franks said. “I thought he was the All-American boy. I thought he was the kind of guy who’d dive in the dirt to save ballgames for you. What I found out, after being around him for a while is that he’s nuts. He doesn’t care about anything but getting a hit. He doesn’t care about the team. All he cares about is Bill Buckner.

“Most of the problem was that he just couldn’t handle (Dave) Kingman’s success this season. Buckner wanted to be the big guy. And when Kingman had the great year, Buckner couldn’t take it.”

No one made an exit quite like Herman Franks.

Except, perhaps . . .

LEE ELIA

April 29, 1983

A recurring theme that fuels Cubs tirades is a game lost on a wild pitch. After Lee Smith wild-pitched the winning run home in a 4-3 loss to the Dodgers that dropped the Cubs to 5-14, Elia went nuclear at Wrigley Field.

“All these so-called Cub fans, ripping everything we do . . .” Elia began, his voice rising. “I hope we get hot–just to stuff it up those 3,000 people who show up every day. If those are the real Chicago fans they can kiss my (fill in the blank) downtown–and print it!”

Elia then got sarcastic.

“They’re really behind you around here. What am I supposed to do, go out there and let my players get destroyed every day and be quiet? For the nickel-and-dime people who show up every day? They don’t even work. That’s why they’re out at the ballgame. It’s a playground for the suckers. . . . Rip those suckers like they rip the players. About 85 percent of the world is working. The other 15 percent come out here.”

Two hours later Elia was called into General Manager Dallas Green’s office. Elia explained that he had carried over a heated discussion with his players.

“If it hadn’t been for a good 15-minute tirade with our club, maybe I wouldn’t have gotten cooking so bad,” Elia told Green.

Too late. Not long after, Elia was fired.

P.K. WRIGLEY

Sept. 3, 1971

Not all tirades are loud and not all are spoken. Wrigley, the Cubs’ owner at the time, used the advertising medium to get across his message at the end of ’71 with his team nine games behind the Pittsburgh Pirates and fans calling for manager Leo Durocher’s scalp.

In an ad that ran in the Chicago Daily News, Wrigley printed a letter typed on Cubs stationery and addressed to “Cub Fans And Anyone Else Who Is Interested.”

The strangely worded, eight-paragraph letter defending Durocher quickly became a hot topic in the Cubs’ clubhouse. Wrigley conceded that the Cubs had failed in every attempt to shed their losers’ image before Durocher arrived:

“Many people seem to have forgotten, but I have not, that after many years of successful seasons and five league pennants, the Cubs went into the doldrums and were for a quarter of a century perennial dwellers of the second division in spite of everything we could think of–experienced managers, inexperienced managers, rotating managers, no manager but revolving coaches–we were still there in the also-rans.”

In conclusion Wrigley wrote: “Leo is the team manager and the `Dump Durocher Clique’ might as well give up. He is running the team, and if some of the players do not like it and lie down on the job, during the off-season we will see what we can do to find them happier homes.”

Wrigley ended with a P.S.: “If only we could find more team players like Ernie Banks.”

Durocher was fired the next year.

The doldrums continue.

Originally Published: May 16, 1999 at 1:00 AM CDT