Rozner: Dallas Green indeed built new Cubs tradition
A few years ago while sitting in the visitors' dugout at Wrigley Field, Dallas Green surveyed the ballpark and pointed to the majestic light standards on the roof of the left-field grandstands.
Much softer and gentler than the man who was known as the blustery GM of the Chicago Cubs in the 1980s, Green chuckled when pondering his fight over lights in the grand old lady.
"I tried to change so much and it was hard," Green said. "They fought me at every turn."
"They" were the people who wanted everything about the Cubs to stay just as it was, lovable losers with a pretty stadium and a bad team.
Green did as much as he possibly could.
"We almost got there," Green said of the 1984 Cubs falling a win short of the World Series. "That's my greatest baseball regret, that we didn't get to finish the job."
Green died Wednesday at the age of 82, following a long and storied baseball career as a player, coach, manager and executive that spanned more than six decades.
As a pitcher, Green famously said, "I was a 20-game winner. It just took me five years to do it."
When Green left the front office to take over as manager of the Phillies in the summer of 1979, he told the players, "The Phillies didn't fire Danny Ozark. You guys did."
A mountain of a man at 6-feet-5 and, by then, probably 270 pounds, Green was not above physical confrontation or screaming at his players. A year later, he led them to a World Series title, and the following year Tribune Co. hired him as GM of the Cubs.
He immediately ruffled feathers in Chicago, where losing was tolerated and often celebrated. The marketing slogan - "Building a New Tradition" - was as hated as Green the first couple of years.
Green hired Harry Caray, traded fan favorites, fought for lights and began building a farm system. His trade of Ivan DeJesus for Larry Bowa would not have been remembered had it not been for a minor-league shortstop Green wanted in the deal.
His name was Ryne Sandberg.
"I was blocked in Philadelphia," Sandberg said. "There was no place for me to go there.
"In Chicago, I had a chance to play third and then second, and it all came together in 1984. But I had time to develop here. I played when I couldn't hit. I might not have ever had that time there.
"That's all because of Dallas. What might have become of me without Dallas? I really don't know."
In some respects, Green was Theo Epstein before there was one. He wanted to build the Cubs from the bottom up and take his time, but he made too much progress too soon and then 1984 happened in only his third year.
When Green saw the chance to win, he acquired Rick Sutcliffe and Dennis Eckersley. The entire starting rotation and six of the eight position players were brought in by Green.
That team should have won the World Series.
Still, in 1985 the Cubs had a 3½-game lead in June and were cruising until losing all five starting pitchers to injury.
By 1986-87 the Cubs had gotten old and the system was just starting to produce players. The Cubs were on the verge of seeing the kids arrive, and by 1989 Green's plan was working.
The Cubs won the division that year mostly with players acquired by Green, but he was long gone.
Following the 1987 season and needing a new manager, Green decided he would go back to the dugout and train bench coach John Vukovich to be the manager, maybe by midseason 1988, thinking he would be the right guy to manage the young players about to emerge.
Green wanted to keep his role as GM and allow scouting director Gordy Goldsberry to continue his fine work, but interference from Tribune Co. sunk the ship.
The board said Green could manage, but they wanted Don Grenesko, a Trib exec and Cubs VP of business, to take over as president and decision-maker. Green said, "Forget it. I'll hire Vukovich as the manager and I'll keep running the team."
Vukovich flew in to meet with Green and Trib exec John Madigan. It went so well that the Cubs arranged a news conference to announce Vukovich as the next manager.
But Madigan suddenly showed up at Wrigley Field in the final moments as reporters gathered and told Green that he could only manage the team. Green was ordered to give up his front-office powers.
Green couldn't take one more minute of corporate interference and walked out the door for good.
The move cost the Cubs 25 years, and not until Epstein's arrival five years ago has anyone again tried to rebuild the organization from the bottom up.
From there, Green managed a couple more times, but he always wound up back with the Phillies, helping to build an organization, and was instrumental in bringing Sandberg back to Philly as a minor-league and major-league manager.
"It's hard to put into words what he meant to my family, my life, my career," Sandberg said. "I was with him for my first 10 years in baseball and my last five years.
"He was there for me any time I needed him. He was a dad to me, a friend and a mentor. I could never thank him for all he did."
Green was somewhat famous for having been at Don Larsen's perfect game as a fan, having given up Jimmy Piersall's 100th home run - when he ran the bases backward - and for having been called up just in time to pitch for the Phillies during the infamous collapse in September 1964.
Sadly, in 2011 he was grief stricken after the death of 9-year-old granddaughter Christina, one of six people killed in the Arizona shooting that also seriously wounded congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords.
One friend said Green was never quite the same after that. His heart was broken and it took a serious toll.
Some along the way may never have realized he had a big heart, which is perhaps why he's rarely talked about in Cubs lore.
Yes, he could be mean and gruff and loud, but he was the first to raise expectations, challenge archaic Cubs traditions, and his intention was only to build a winner on the North Side of Chicago.
It's a shame he was never given the chance to finish the job.
brozner@dailyherald.com
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