When those who know baseball history hear the name Johnny Sain the first thing they think of is the phrase that was applied to his partnership with Warren Spahn in the pitching rotation of the Boston Braves in the late 1940s and early 1950s. The Braves had the good fortune to feature Spahn and Sain at the front of the rotation, but they were short-handed on other front-line starters, so the phrase went, “Spahn and Sain and Pray For Rain.”
Spahn is acknowledged as the greatest left-handed pitcher of all time and holds the Major League record for victories by a southpaw with 363. Sain did not have Spahn’s staying power and he was not quite as talented, though he was a very good player. Sain finished with a 139-116 record and a 3.49 earned run average in 12 active seasons spread between 1942 and 1955, but interrupted by World War II.
His best year was 1948 when Sain won 24 games and was runner-up as the National League Most Valuable Player, but Sain put up four 20-win seasons in all.
But as good a thrower as Sain was, he was a better teacher. In the decades after retirement and before his death at 89 in 2006, Sain worked as a pitching coach for the Oakland A’s, New York Yankees, Minnesota Twins, Detroit Tigers, Chicago White Sox and Atlanta Braves.
Major League coaches pretty much fall through the cracks when it comes to dispensing honors, except verbally. Nobody passes out trophies for the best pitching coach, only compliments. We have a Manager of the Year, MVP, Cy Young Award, and Rookie of the Year. Umpires are voted into the Hall of Fame. But coaches don’t receive that kind of recognition and that’s unfair.
Certainly, not even Sain would argue that he belongs in the Hall of Fame based on his mound work. But as a pitching coach he may never have had a peer. During his coaching days with the White Sox a story appeared in a magazine with the headline of “The Man Who Manufactures 20-Game Winners.” It was an apt description of Sain, who hailed from Arkansas, but who settled in the Chicago suburbs after he left baseball.
Sain said that his biggest weakness as a pitcher was that he could not throw a hard enough fastball and had to get by on location and guile. As one of those successful hurlers he was able to impart similar wisdom to pitchers who had the same sort of difficulties.
“I lacked the velocity to throw the ball past hitters,” Sain said, “so I had to depend on the mechanics. Variation of delivery, motion, various speeds, movement on the ball. I hurt my elbow the second year and after that I threw 90 percent breaking pitches.”
Sain was so good at inspiring pitchers that anyone who had talent that came into contact with him had a good shot at becoming a 20-game winner. He coached the heck out of them, coaxing the most from their skills. Among the 20-game winners that Sain worked with are Whitey Ford, Wilbur Wood, Denny McLain, Jim Kaat, Jim Bouton and Earl Wilson.
Several pitchers had their finest seasons when Sain was running their staff. He was strong-willed, didn’t deviate from his message, and it took a manager with both intelligence and job security to trust Sain with all of his policies. If the manager wavered, Sain was gone. If the manager got fired, Sain was gone, too. But he was always in demand. Another team sought him out to work his magic.
There might be times that Sain got on management’s nerves, but the pitchers he tutored loved him and were always ready to provide endorsements.
“I don’t know any answers,” Sain used to say. “I don’t give pitchers answers. I try to stimulate their thinking, to present alternatives and let them choose.”
It is a shame that there is no room in Cooperstown for someone who gained fame and accomplished much as a pitching coach. That seems to be a hole in the system. Yes, the case can be made that Johnny Sain is the best pitching coach of all time, but there are others worthy of mention, too. The Hall should find a way to open its doors to great contributors to the sport that don’t fit into narrower definitions.