Gordo: Whiteyball transformed the Cardinals into an enduring business phenomenon (2024)

Our national pastime has seen many great field managers, but very few of them transformed franchises into something much greater.

One very special exception was Whitey Herzog, who died Monday, April 15, 2024, at the age of 92. To appreciate the “Whiteyball” effect on the Cardinals, travel back to 1978.

Back then, this Mizzou student from Motown could come watch the Cardinals play one weekend with friends from the STL, then go see the Royals play the next weekend with his Kansas City buddies.

The contrast was jarring.

Kansas City offered a dynamic baseball scene while St. Louis had grown apathetic. Royals Stadium was abuzz with big, lively crowds, while Busch Stadium sat nearly empty on some game days.

The 1978 Royals made their third straight trip to the American League Championship Series under Herzog. They hit balls into the gaps and down the lines on their ultra-fast artificial surface. They bunted and they hit and ran, and they ran, ran and ran some more. Eight of their players reached double figures in stolen bases that year.

That team won 92 games during the regular season and drew 2.25 million fans — which was a big number in those days, third-highest in the AL. The Royals drew fans from a multistate region into their built-for-baseball park with its iconic water fountains.

The 1978 Cardinals won 69 games with the unfortunate Vern Rapp starting the season as manager. They attracted just 1.278 million fans into their multipurpose stadium, drawing many late-season weeknight crowds smaller than 8,000.

They were a shell of their 1960s selves after falling from contention with a thud amid myriad internal issues. The phrase “Baseball Heaven” wasn’t uttered much in these parts that year.

Then the Royals fired Herzog after the 1979 season and did St. Louis a favor too huge to ever repay. Cardinals owner August Busch Jr. hired Whitey as manager and later made him general manager, too, so he could replicate the success he had in Kansas City.

Just as Willie Wilson, Frank White, Amos Otis and U.L. Washington wrought havoc for the Royals, Ozzie Smith, Vince Coleman, Tommy Herr and Willie McGee ran wild for the Cardinals.

These teams pitched and fielded well too. They had Hall of Fame-bound leaders setting the pace, and they had savvy ballplayers following that direction — or else.

To build championship-caliber teams in St. Louis, Herzog needed the freedom to add the right type of players and subtract the wrong sort. Gussie Busch gave him that authority.

Whitey had a great feel for his players, learning who he could count on in difficult spots and which players needed to watch from the dugout or bullpen. He knew when to challenge players and when to give them a boost.

He won with players from various backgrounds and ethnicities. Some were great natural athletes, while others were merely great ballplayers. The “White Rat” knew what to do with each.

Managing games was an art form back then, and Herzog was a master practitioner. He relied on his gut in addition to his hours of preparation. He read the opponents and sensed when to exploit weakness. He seized moments with his decision-making.

Herzog was also a engaging face of the franchise. He stayed true to his New Athens roots, winning over fans here with his authentic everyman personality, just as he did in Kansas City. He was a down-to-earth guy who kept his feet on the ground despite his success.

He was a genius when it came to orchestrating games, but he didn’t come off as a know-it-all. He explained the game, and himself, in ways fans could relate to easily. His public relations instincts were as keen as his tactical instincts.

You know how this all played out in the 1980s.

A moribund franchise sprang back life. By 1987, when the Cardinals won their third National League pennant under Whitey, attendance topped 3 million.

Alas, Gussie’s influence faded, Herzog lost control of baseball operations and his epic run wound down to a disappointing end. By then, Whitey was losing patience with modern players and their meddlesome agents.

That aggravation would intensify during his brief time in the California Angels front office. The business changed, and it would keep changing. Player salaries kept soaring. The influence of agents kept growing.

Whitey had his fill of it and went fishin’.

The industry moved away from the sort of magic Whitey worked. Franchises hired Wall Street types to build analytics teams, and number-crunchers seized control of baseball operations. Teams eschewed small ball and embraced “three true outcomes” baseball and swinging for the fences.

Still, the transformation of the Cardinals held. The prosperity of the Bill DeWitt Jr. Era — great attendance, Busch Stadium III, the bustling Ballpark Village, soaring franchise value — was built on the study foundation Herzog set.

Whitey stayed close to the game he loved, despite its changes. He remained connected to the fan base he rebuilt and the players he led. He endured as a civic treasure.

Now he’s gone, but his legacy lives on with this franchise’s uncommon success.