What Do Baseball Coaches Do?

Mets coach Casey Stengel - an icon. Image credits: Focus on Sport

Once upon a time in a postgame radio interview, a first base coach was asked, “What does a first base coach do?”

The coach said, “He stands there and puts in time so he'll get more money in his pension. And we pick up the baseballs during batting practice.”

Seriously, when you watch a game, do you ever notice the first base coach or see him do anything?

He may greet a batter who reaches first on a walk. When there's a runner on first and the pitcher throws over there and the runner gets back, the coach may walk over to him and say a few words for whatever reason. Otherwise, nothing.

But a first base coach may have other duties the fans never see. He may be good at reading pitchers' tip-offs of what they're going to throw. If he's been a good baserunner or infielder in his playing days, he may tutor young players in those skills.

He may hit fungoes to outfielders during batting practice or ground balls to infielders by the hundreds.

Third Base Coach

The third base coach is more noticeable. He's the gatekeeper, responsible for deciding whether to hold up a baserunner on a hit to the outfield or wave him on to try to score. Sometimes his decision can make the difference in a win or loss.

Either way, he's acting in plain view of everybody in the ballpark and watching at home. He may also be a relay for signs from the manager to a batter.

In the old days some managers manned the third base coach's box. The position was also a pulpit for riding opposing pitchers to rattle them. Leo Durocher was a non-stop heckler, hated by every pitcher in the league.

Other managers used proxies for that role. For years after his playing days, Al Simmons served in that role for Connie Mack, sometimes taunting opponents into fistfights on the field.

Art Fletcher played a similar role for the Yankees for 19 years beginning in 1927. Elden Auker was a rookie underhand pitcher for Detroit in 1933.

Elden Auker

“Fletcher was a real jockey. But I was a rookie and I didn't know who he was. The first time I pitched against Babe Ruth I struck him out. When I went out to start the next inning, here's this guy yelling at me, “Hey, Bush” I didn't pay much attention to him.

Then he says, “You really got the Bam upset. He just said he's struck out a lot of times, but it's the first time a goddamn woman ever struck him out.” I coulda killed him, but I didn't dare say anything.”

Hitting Coach

A hundred years ago, Ty Cobb was among the first hitting coaches when he was also managing the Detroit Tigers. But his players rebelled because he was trying to get them to hit like he did. And nobody could do that.

Ted Williams was always willing to talk hitting with other players, but unless they had his vision, reflexes, concept of the strike zone, intense analyzing and ability to get inside pitchers' heads, he couldn't clone them.

A few Hall of Fame hitters had the patience and intuition to work with hitters as individuals and not as would-be clones. George Sisler filled that role for the Dodgers for years.

He worked for hours taming young wild swingers like Duke Snider. Paul Waner was the same, emphasizing and demonstrating what he called a “quick belly-button.”

Casey Stengel would stand behind the batting cage and holler, “Butcher boy. . . Chop down on the ball.”

But many of the most effective hitting coaches were never great hitters themselves.  They were keen observers, standing behind the batting cage during batting practice, picking up on batters' habits and flaws in footwork, stance, timing, movements of head and hands and wrists, or working one-on-one in morning sessions. Fans never see them at work.

In the days before stats nerds were measuring how high and far and fast fly balls were traveling into the seats, hitting coaches and managers were emphasizing swinging down on the ball for line drives instead of upper-cutting it.

When he was managing the Mets, Casey Stengel would stand behind the batting cage and holler, “Butcher boy. . . Chop down on the ball.”

Pitching Coach

Pitching coaches play a vital role in a team's success because managers know nothing about pitching unless they're former pitchers or catchers themselves.

Chief Bender filled that role for Connie Mack more than a hundred years ago, Mack had been a catcher,  but he had more than enough to do as the manager and president of the Philadelphia Athletics starting from scratch.

The pitching coach is the most visible to the fans because he's the one making the trips to the mound to confer with a struggling pitcher or stall for time while a reliever is warming up. He's often seen standing at the railing in the dugout or conferring with the manager or making a phone call to the bullpen. He's the one who lets the manager know who's available for relief duty that day.

Many pitching coaches have been successful pitchers or catchers, but not all. Like hitting coaches, they may be better teachers than performers. Some have definite ideas. Johnny Sain believed that throwing every day – in the bullpen or batting practice -- was more important than running.

Mike Marshall thought most pitching coaches knew nothing about the mechanics of pitching – and had a PhD in the subject to back him up. 

Ray Berres was a catcher who became a pitching coach for 19 years. But he sat in the bullpen during a game, never on the bench, and never went to the mound.

He thought he could get to know the pitchers better and have more teaching time that way. If he had any advice for a pitcher during a game, he'd use the bullpen phone to talk to him. 

Bullpen Coach

The bullpen coach mans the phone, sees that the pitchers who may be called on start exercising and loosening up in the middle innings, supervises warmups and may be asked who looks better when two or three relievers are throwing.

In the old days, there were no bullpens. One or two relievers and a catcher sat on a bench in front of the seats in the outfield.  They had to scatter if a ball was hit there, although sometimes they were slow about it if one of their teammates had hit it.

Bench Coach

A modern invention, the bench coach is supposed to be an assistant manager, though his duties are vague and probably no more than a handful of fans could tell you what he does or who their home team's bench coach is.