Eddie Dyer knew when he wasn’t wanted, so he took the high road out of St. Louis.
On Oct. 16, 1950, after five seasons as Cardinals manager, Dyer, 51, resigned rather than wait for club owner Fred Saigh to make a change.
Though Dyer led the Cardinals to a World Series championship in 1946, his first year as their manager, and produced second-place finishes in each of the next three seasons, he fell out of favor with Saigh after the Cardinals dropped to fifth place in 1950.
Dyer spent 28 years with the Cardinals as a player, manager and administrator, and his resignation saved Saigh from the unpleasantness of firing an accomplished employee.
Big influence
A left-handed pitcher, Dyer played six seasons (1922-27) for the Cardinals. In 1928, club executive Branch Rickey gave him the chance to manage in the farm system, and Dyer excelled, building a reputation for grooming talent and producing winning teams.
New York Daily News columnist Jimmy Powers noted most of the Cardinals’ Gashouse Gang players in the 1930s “learned the skills of their trade from Eddie. Dyer deserves most of the credit for developing most of the great Gashousers.”
According to Powers, Dyer also “personally polished and readied the core” of the Cardinals’ teams that won four National League pennants and three World Series championships during a five-year span in the 1940s.
When Rickey left for the Dodgers after the 1942 season, Dyer, who earned a college degree at Rice, became the Cardinals’ farm system director. In 1944, he left the club to tend to his multiple and lucrative business interests in oil, insurance, real estate and beverage bottling in Houston.
When Cardinals manager Billy Southworth departed after the 1945 season for a better financial offer to manage the Braves, Dyer replaced him.
Style vs. substance
In Dyer’s first four seasons as Cardinals manager, the club had records of 98-58, 89-65, 85-69 and 96-58. Though successful, Dyer wasn’t beloved by the Cardinals’ fan base.
A St. Louis Globe-Democrat editorial noted, “Cardinals fans were accustomed to the dashing play of the old Gashouse Gang, and Eddie by no stretch of the imagination was a fire-eater manager. The fans recognized this fact and, even with a winning team, Eddie was frequently criticized.”
Dyer also got criticism from the Cardinals’ popular broadcaster, Harry Caray, and his on-air partner, Gabby Street, the former Cardinals manager.
In 1950, the heat intensified. The Cardinals ended June tied with the Phillies for first place, but faded, posting records of 12-16 in August and 13-17 in September.
“Dyer just ran out of farm products,” Jimmy Powers offered. “His Cards were milked dry.”
The 1950 Cardinals finished at 78-75. It was the first time since 1938 they had failed to finish among the top four teams in the National League standings.
According to the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, Gabby Street said at a speaking engagement in Joplin, Mo., “Dyer didn’t always manage the Cardinals to suit me this past season. The Cardinals just didn’t have the hustle. They just didn’t look like any Cardinals ballclub I ever knew.”
Gentleman’s agreement
Saigh had become sole owner of the Cardinals in January 1949, and he wanted to make his mark. After the 1950 season, he did little to squelch speculation of a managerial change. Dyer’s departure “figured in the changes Saigh contemplated,” The Sporting News reported.
Saigh scheduled a meeting with Dyer on Oct. 16, 1950, in St. Louis and said a decision on the manager’s fate would be made then.
Dyer recognized he didn’t have the owner’s support. With his businesses booming in Houston, Dyer didn’t need a baseball job for income, and if he was destined to leave the franchise he had served so long and well, he wanted to do it on his terms.
“He apparently felt he had worn out his welcome in St. Louis and it was time to move on,” the Associated Press reported.
Dyer arrived at the meeting with a resignation letter. Saigh accepted the resignation and agreed to let Dyer announce the news to reporters who had gathered outside Saigh’s Sportsman’s Park office.
Harry Caray was told to stay out of the room when Dyer made his announcement because Saigh feared “an incident,” the St. Louis Post-Dispatch reported. Dyer said Caray’s frequent on-air criticism was “vicious,” The Sporting News noted.
In his book “RedBirds: A Century of Cardinals Baseball,” Bob Broeg said Dyer would have had “a no-hold-barred exit with Saigh” in front of the media if Caray had been allowed to attend Dyer’s session with reporters.
When Caray stayed away, “Eddie agreed to resign gracefully, which was what Fred Saigh wanted,” Broeg observed.
Addressing reporters while perched on the arm of a chair, Dyer said he wasn’t “a candidate” to be Cardinals manager in 1951, thanked several people for their efforts and blamed player injuries for the team’s record in 1950. “I do not believe any club in the National League could have suffered as many and costly injuries as we did and still finish in the first division,” Dyer said.
Given a push
After Dyer read his statement, Saigh told the Globe-Democrat, “This comes as a shock to me.”
Regarding Saigh’s reaction, J. Roy Stockton of the Post-Dispatch wrote, “Even if there was a little salami, what of it? It was a gracious way of bidding a manager goodbye. Dyer’s long service with the club certainly made him entitled to the graceful exit.”
Others noted Dyer’s departure wasn’t solely his decision.
In an editorial, The Sporting News declared Saigh handed Dyer “his pink slip” and gave him “his dismissal notice.”
Bob Burnes of the Globe-Democrat wrote, “You can call it being fired, you can call it resigning or anything you wish.”
John Wray of the Post-Dispatch cited “widespread hostile fan comment” as part of the reason Saigh wanted a different manager.
Burnes called Dyer “one of baseball’s finest gentleman” and added, “Probably many Cardinals fans will be happy at the news Dyer is out. That has been something that always has puzzled us.”
The Sporting News noted Dyer was “strangely lacking in local popularity despite personal charm.”
Cardinals minor-league manager Johnny Keane was considered a leading candidate to replace Dyer, but Saigh instead hired popular shortstop Marty Marion. Marion lasted one season as player-manager and was replaced by Eddie Stanky.
Not until 1964, 18 years after Dyer’s 1946 team, did the Cardinals win another World Series title, and when it happened, Keane was the manager.
Really enjoyed this post. You can’t help but feel sympathy for Eddie Dyer. Without Sam Breadon and Branch Rickey an era had come to a close. The Cardinals would become a an aging team. The Dodgers would become the new NL dynasty. A couple of things that I would like to mention is the sway that Harry Carrey held even back then. Also, here in St Louis, if the fans love you, they really love you. If on the other hand they don’t, there is really very little you can do to try to win them over.
All very good points and well said. Just today I saw a tweet from a decades-long Cardinals fan who was still complaining about Tony La Russa never moving full-time to St. Louis.
I grew up listening to Harry Caray and was always entertained by him. He made the games exciting, even when the Cardinals were in the second division. However, if you got on his bad side he would make everyone aware of it on the air. Just ask Kenny Boyer.
Yes, I agree. Harry Caray brought a fan’s perspective to his broadcasts. Jack Buck had one of my favorite descriptions of Harry. In his autobiography, Jack said of Harry Caray, “He told it like he thought it was, and that’s different from telling it like it is.”
Per Rick Hummel: Boyer turned down an interview with Caray and that outrage could not be borne. If Boyer made an out, what a bum. If he hit a double, well, Musial would have homered. I’ve no doubt that Boyer would be in the HOF but for Caray’s relentless potshots.
And as a nod for Dyer…he stepped down at just the right time.
All well said. Fred Saigh soon would be in jail for tax invasion, and the pitching-poor Cardinals wouldn’t contend much until the 1960s.
In his autobiography, Jack Buck said, “Harry Caray constantly criticized Ken Boyer, who did everything so gracefully that some people thought he was not giving 100 percent. It appeared he was loafing but he wasn’t, but Harry used to pick on him relentlessly.”
Buck said when the Cardinals were playing the Dodgers at the Coliseum the broadcast booth was behind the screen at field level. Boyer came off the field after making a good play and Caray asked him to come over and talk on the air. Boyer said, “The game is going on. I can’t stop and talk to you on the radio.” According to Buck, “That ticked off Caray and thereafter when Harry got a chance to say something critical about Boyer, he blasted him.”