Never Say A Cross Word About Keith

It's been 40 years since the trade that transformed the Mets. Could it happen again?

Keith Hernandez at The Two Boots Tavern by slgckgc is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

I’m not a fan of 1980s nostalgia. While I don’t mind recalling fond memories from that time of my life, I get worn out being asked to relive those years when I haven’t had a chance to put them aside, let them rattle around in my brain and consider that era with a new perspective. And that’s because I don’t feel like we’ve ever put those years aside other than to revisit them to re-fight battles that are long over.

Good writing is a product of reading, thinking and living applied over time. The thinking you need to do has to be handled by a combination of your conscious and subconscious mind. Think of it this way: you might be able to cram for that final, but after its over you’ll have a tough time remembering much of what you learned or applying it in a useful way.¹

That being said, there are some things from that time that have rattled around my head more than enough to write something worthwhile about them. And one of those things is the trade in 1983 that brought Keith Hernandez to the New York Mets.

It’s been 40 years since St. Louis Cardinals manager Whitey Herzog lost his mind and dealt the former National League MVP to New York in exchange for relief pitchers Neil Allen and Rick Ownbey. In New York, the deal arrived at the trade deadline with a thunderclap. The Mets were going nowhere fast in 1983. They were 22-36 and 9.5 games out of first place in the NL East when the deal was announced. They would finish 68-94, the seventh straight season the team posted a losing record. The big news that offseason had been the reacquisition of three-time Cy Young winner Tom Seaver from the Cincinnati Reds, but even “The Franchise” couldn’t turn the woeful Mets into winners by himself at that point in his career.²

But Hernandez was something different. He was the best defensive first baseman in baseball, not only because of his evident skill, but in how he functioned as captain of the infield. He knew how to position his teammates to turn a suicide squeeze bunt into an inning-ending double play and nobody else before or since could do that.

Hernandez also became the most potent bat in the lineup for a team that hadn’t had an everyday player hit over .300 for a full season since Clean Jones in 1969. And while he didn’t have much home run power, he found ways to hit screaming line drives into the gap and knock in runs when his team needed them the most.

He was the sort of elite every day player that had rarely been seen around Flushing, the best on the team since Rusty Staub in the early 1970s. Why in the world would Herzog deal him for a pair of mediocre arms?³

Apparently, Herzog, who had managed Hernandez since the end of the 1980 MLB season, wasn’t impressed with his first baseman’s work ethic. Here’s how he put it in his memoir, White Rat: A Life in Baseball.

“What I couldn’t live with was his attitude. I’ve got two basic rules — be on time and hustle — and he was having trouble with both of them … His practice habits were atrocious. He’d come out for batting practice, then head back to the clubhouse to smoke cigarettes and do crossword puzzles … It was getting to the point where I was fed up with him.”

Herzog believed the trade was “addition by subtraction,” fearing his first baseman’s lax ways would infect the rest of the clubhouse.⁴ Meanwhile, the deal absolutely electrified the Mets, as Hernandez’s refusal to accept the team’s losing ways transformed its culture. After the 1983 season, he re-signed with the team and the die was cast. The Mets would win a World Series and two division titles in the six full seasons Hernandez played in New York, battling for the NL East crown every year. And while the Cardinals would return to the World Series in 1985 and 1987, it’s safe to say the deal backfired on Herzog, as the Mets evolved into their greatest rival over that stretch.⁵

Keith Hernandez's Retired Number by slgckgc is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

After one injury-marred season with the Cleveland Indians in 1990, Hernandez retired. Today, he’s a New Yorker through and through, his career with the Mets immortalized by Jerry Seinfeld and his place in the life of the region cemented by 25 years in the booth as a color commentator with the Mets. Today, his uniform number is officially retired by the Mets, and the Cardinals made a place for him in that storied franchise’s Hall of Fame beside names like Bob Gibson, Ozzie Smith and Roger Maris. Even Herzog and Hernandez have made peace.

With the Mets foundering right now, my wife asked me how the team might make a similar deal today. It probably can’t happen. Over the decades, the balance of power between players and management has shifted dramatically in favor of the players. If you’re into Karl Marx, it’s clear that the workers in professional sports have seized a significant portion of the means of production.

Any manager, even an all-time great like Herzog, would put his job on the line for suggesting a deal like it. Now, if you want to get rid of a player like that, you have to justify it on economic grounds or not at all. And while the lives of major league baseball players are the better for it today, I remain grateful for Herzog’s blunder. I’m sure Hernandez does too.

1. For more, I recommend A Mind for Numbers by Barbara Oakley. I read it before returning to grad school in my 40s and found it invaluable.

2. In one of the greatest blunders in franchise history, Mets General Manager Frank Cashen left Seaver unprotected in the free agent compensation pool the following offseason. Seaver was off to Chicago where he would win his 300th game with the White Sox in 1985 on a road trip in New York against the Yankees. While the Mets dramatically improved in 1984, most Mets fans believe the loss of Seaver, who still had two good seasons left in his arm at that point, cost them the division in 1984 and 1985. We’re right.

3. Ownbey was out of MLB after the 1986 season. Allen, a former closer for the Mets, had his own demons to deal with. He’s battled alcoholism, most recently completing a stint at a Betty Ford clinic in 2017 while he was working as a pitching coach with the Minnesota Twins. After that season, he retired from coaching. When it comes to anyone battling addiction, I root for them. We don’t have enough good people in the world as it is.

4. We later learned that Hernandez had developed a taste for cocaine while with the Cardinals, something that surfaced during a trial in Pittsburgh that rocked MLB in 1985. Herzog later claimed he knew nothing of Hernandez’s habit.

5. Herzog had his own connections to the Mets. From 1967-1972, he was Director of Player Development for the Mets, playing a part in drafting multiple players who helped the team win the 1969 World Series and the 1973 National League Pennant. When Gil Hodges died during Spring Training in 1972, he was passed over as manager in favor of Yogi Berra, and left the organization one year later to become manager of the Texas Rangers.