May/June 2022 (Volume 14, Issue 3)
By John Liepa
Whether one is an occasional visitor to the Iowa Cubs Principal Park in Des Moines, or a season ticket-holder, one can’t help but notice them. They sit behind home plate, or in Section 10, unemotionally, diligently paying attention to pitches, swings, steals and fielding — every detail. Everything is recorded on a clipboard or laptop, and then there’s that ubiquitous stopwatch — the old-fashioned windup or today’s digital version — recording running speed; pitches coming to the plate; or a catcher’s pick-off speed. They don’t use lineup books to keep score; they use radar guns, but judging control and movement is as important as raw speed. Although this is their time at the “office,” they don’t stay for much of the game. Who are these individuals no longer easily identifiable by their iconic fedoras and Panama hats, yet so essential to the game of baseball?
Major League Baseball (MLB) could not function without professional scouts. Two seismic events in the relatively recent evolution of baseball have changed the role of the scout forever. In 1984, Bill James’ book of new statistical baseball measures was published and became a best seller. With the availability of new and improved technologies, virtually everything in baseball that can be measured, is measured. And, an entirely new set of acronyms and terminology were introduced: exit velocity; OPS (on-base percentage plus slugging); spin rate; WHIP (walks plus hits per innings pitched); launch angle; etc. The second event was the 2003 publication of Michael Lewis’ best-selling book, “Moneyball,” subsequently made into an immensely popular movie starring Brad Pitt. It’s the story of how a baseball team (The Oakland Athletics) that didn’t have a lot of money, used new ways to evaluate talent, and successfully competed with much richer teams.
Although the structure and technology of scouting has dramatically changed during the past 100 years, the personalities and individual characteristics that set apart “legendary figures” and mentors from the “ordinary yeomen” have not. One has to appreciate the job description:
“Wanted — Individuals with a passion for baseball; willing to fly ‘coach’ and drive 60,000 miles a year; work for low pay, with little job security; and evaluate hundreds of players. [If you’re lucky, you’ll discover a future star.]”
In spite of the bleak job description, hundreds of scouts have accepted the challenge and some have become “legendary.” Three National Baseball Hall of Famers — Willie Stargell, Reggie Jackson and Gary Carter — were signed by Bob Zuk. Dodgers’ scout George Genovese signed dozens during his 50-year career, including Iowan Jamie McAndrew. Phillies scout Tony Lucadello signed more than 50 players, including Mike Schmidt and Ferguson Jenkins. Timothy Paul “Ted” Sullivan, raised in and introduced to baseball in Muscatine, Davenport and Dubuque is considered by many to be the first baseball scout. Sullivan befriended and then delivered many players to Hall-of-Famer Charles Comiskey, owner of the Chicago White Sox. Included in this distinguished group would be a very “colorful” baseball scout — Cyril C. “Cy Slapnicka, who was born in Cedar Rapids on March 23, 1886, grew up there playing baseball, and later died there on Oct. 20, 1979.
Slapnicka’s involvement in baseball lasted more than 50 years from his days as a Cedar Rapids Washington High School pitcher and switch-hitter (1902-05) to his retirement as a Cleveland Indians scout in 1960. His professional career began in Marshalltown in 1906 and took him to various minor league teams in Iowa, Missouri, Illinois, Kansas and Ohio until he was called up in late 1911 by the Chicago Cubs. After three MLB losses, he was sent to Louisville; optioned to Rockford; and sold to Milwaukee in the American Association. From 1912 to 1917, he settled in Milwaukee winning a total of 78 games, while running a saloon and occasionally working as an actor, juggler and strongman in local theaters. He was traded to Birmingham in 1917, and then had his contract purchased by the Pittsburg Pirates in 1918. His second brief stint in the Major Leagues included seven games and a 1-4 record with the Pirates — his only MLB victory being a 10-4 win against the Giants. Then it was back to Birmingham; claimed by waivers to Little Rock; drafted by the Cleveland Indians and assigned to Toledo. It was during this time on a return trip to his hometown of Cedar Rapids, Slapnicka did some “unofficial” scouting and alerted the Tigers to Major Leaguer Earl Whitehill. In 1920, he returned home to work as a salesman at a men’s store and to play briefly for the Cedar Rapids Rabbits of the Three-I League.
Although his 10 game MLB career qualified Slapnicka for the unofficial “stopped-in-for-a-cup-of-coffee” fraternity, his 15 years immersed in the game had developed a rare gift — his ability to identify raw talent, befriend and work with a family, and eventually, get a player signed to a contract. Wish Egan, a very successful scout from 1910 to the 1950s said it well
“Imagination is the most important thing a scout has to have. You have to look at a 17-year old kid and imagine what he will grow up to be.”
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