Gene Mauch

THEY CALLED him "The Little General" or "Skip" and he managed the Phillies for eight seasons, longer than anyone else in the team's modern history. But for any fan over 50 he is remembered for one thing: the collapse of the 1964 team. With a six-game lead and only 12 games remaining, the Phillies lost 10 in a row and saw the pennant go to the St. Louis Cardinals on the last day of the season. Gene Mauch never got over that loss and the tough Phillies fans never forgave him. He deserves better than that.

Gene Mauch may have been born in Kansas and lived in Southern California during his golden years, but he was the ultimate Philadelphian. Philadelphia sports fans are known for their passion and unyielding zest to drive a team to a championship. Mauch was the patron saint of both qualities. A lot of managers and coaches have expertly directed Philly's four major sports teams over the years. I challenge you to find one who had more passion than Mauch. Dick Vermeil?

Gather round, all you young Phillies fans, and I'll tell you a spooky story about your favorite franchise. Once upon a time, 50 years ago this summer to be exact, back when only the players wore uniforms, the Phillies were a very scary team. For years, they'd dwelled like trolls in the National League's basement, rarely venturing out. They were so frightening that all but their bravest fans abandoned them. A year earlier, in 1960, their manager left, too - quitting just one game into that season.

Gene Mauch, the steely-eyed little manager who guided three teams, including the infamous 1964 Phillies, to the brink of a World Series only to see them stranded there by the cruelest of baseball fates, died yesterday at 79. Mr. Mauch succumbed at Eisenhower Medical Center in Rancho Mirage, Calif., after a lengthy battle with cancer, according to the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim. Nicknamed "The Little General," both for his gifts as a game strategist and his dictatorial style, Mr. Mauch was the winningest and losingest manager in Phillies history, compiling a record of 645-684 from 1960 to 1968.

Charlie Manuel (2005-11) 645 Gene Mauch (1960-68) 645 Harry Wright (1884-93) 636 Danny Ozark (1973-79) 594 Jim Fregosi (1991-96) 431 SOURCE: Phillies

Here are the results of the poll on Philly.com asking who is the best manager in Phillies history: 1. Charlie Manuel. . . 78.7 percent 2. Gene Mauch. . . 8.7 percent 3. Dallas Green. . . 8.5 percent 4. Danny Ozark. . . 2.3 percent 5. Eddie Sawyer. . . 1.3 percent 6. Jim Fregosi. . . 0.6 percent

In 1982, when Milwaukee rallied to win three in a row and bury the Angels in the American League Championship Series, Gene Mauch walked away. He walked away because his wife, Nina Lee, was very sick; because he was weary of the second-guessers; because California management was part of the badgering chorus. And now, now that the Angels have been knocked out of the playoffs after owning a 3-1 lead, will he walk away? "Why, do you think that's a good idea?" Mauch said, coming close to his only grin in the grim postgame scene.

JACK BALDSCHUN was the Brad Lidge of a generation that still bears the psychic scars of the most infamous collapse in baseball history. I heard Ray Didinger say on WIP Saturday that the trauma of what happened to the 1964 Phillies nearly caused him to flunk out of Temple University the first semester of his freshman year. Yeah, it was that bad. . . Ball writers often flew with the team in those days. The Phillies snapped the epic 10-game losing streak that had melted a 6 1/2-game lead like a flamethrower taking out a snowman by winning the season's last two games in Cincinnati.

I WILL never forget the day the 1961 Phillies snapped their 23-game losing streak. It started with manager Gene Mauch screaming obscenities at the Daily News beat writer and Robin Roberts. I wanted to do a column on Warren Spahn, but Spahn was wary of out-of-town writers. So I sat down next to Roberts in the clubhouse, softly asking questions about the Milwaukee lefthander. Mauch, 20 feet away, turned beet-red and launched an X-rated tirade, accusing us of second-guessing his handling of the pitching staff, questioning our parentage, our courage, our reason for living.

It was time once again to think of the '64 Phillies. It was time once again to think of '82 in Milwaukee. It was time once again for Gene Mauch to relive all the horrors one more time. They are about to hold another World Series without him. The Boston Red Sox became the latest skeleton in Mauch's walk-in closet last night. They finished his year and finished his latest set of dreams by clobbering his California Angels, 8-1, in Game 7 of yet one more series that Gene Mauch will never be allowed to forget.

CHARLIE MANUEL said that he "rolled the marbles" when he sent Ben Francisco to pinch-hit for Cole Hamels in Game 3 of the NLCS, and added a folksy reminder that he was once the state marbles champion of Virginia. Gene Mauch might have said that he "rolled the dice" with Francisco and cited Francisco's numbers against a fast ball early in the count with two runners on. Night and day. Two very different managers of two very different teams from two very different eras. And now, in the gloomy aftermath of the early exit from playoff baseball, people are trying to compare the nightmare that was 1964 with the abrupt ending to the 2011 season.

ATLANTA - Charlie Manuel is a good, old boy from Virginia who tends to speak in stream-of-consciousness monologues. Gene Mauch, as dry as the Kansas plains of his birthplace, often allowed long seconds to elapse before answering a question, then keeping his reply short and concise. They met a few times along the way without making a real connection. Baseball has a way of putting disparate lives in the same orbit, though, and that's the case now with Manuel and Mauch. Going into last night's regular-season finale at Turner Field, each had won 645 games while managing the Phillies, tied for first on the franchise's all-time list.

Charlie Manuel (2005-11) 645 Gene Mauch (1960-68) 645 Harry Wright (1884-93) 636 Danny Ozark (1973-79) 594 Jim Fregosi (1991-96) 431 SOURCE: Phillies

Observations, insinuations, ruminations and unvarnished opinions . . .   'What is the springtime after all? "Only the other side of fall. " Poet-songwriter Rod McKuen asked that question in verse and when I read it a long time ago, I thought of how it works the opposite way for baseball. What is October baseball, after all? Only the other side of spring training. The Phillies are struggling to reach the finish line of the long season like Dorando Pietri, the 1908 Olympic marathon runner who was dragged across the finish line by race officials after collapsing with victory in sight.

I WILL never forget the day the 1961 Phillies snapped their 23-game losing streak. It started with manager Gene Mauch screaming obscenities at the Daily News beat writer and Robin Roberts. I wanted to do a column on Warren Spahn, but Spahn was wary of out-of-town writers. So I sat down next to Roberts in the clubhouse, softly asking questions about the Milwaukee lefthander. Mauch, 20 feet away, turned beet-red and launched an X-rated tirade, accusing us of second-guessing his handling of the pitching staff, questioning our parentage, our courage, our reason for living.

RUBEN AMARO SR. was the shortstop on that 1961 Phillies team that lost 23 games in a row. Finished with the worst record in baseball, 47-107. Were dead last in attendance, luring 590,039 masochists into Connie Mack Stadium, a decrepit ballyard in North Philly. Ruben Amaro Jr. is the general manager of this 2011 Phillies team that owns the best record in baseball. Has sold out its glitzy ballpark 182 times in a row, with no end in sight. Same town, same team, same family.

Gather round, all you young Phillies fans, and I'll tell you a spooky story about your favorite franchise. Once upon a time, 50 years ago this summer to be exact, back when only the players wore uniforms, the Phillies were a very scary team. For years, they'd dwelled like trolls in the National League's basement, rarely venturing out. They were so frightening that all but their bravest fans abandoned them. A year earlier, in 1960, their manager left, too - quitting just one game into that season.

LUCKY ME. IN 1966, my first season as the Phillies beat writer, they were favored to win the National League pennant. Sports Illustrated said so. They became an even hotter pick on April 21 when GM John Quinn acquired manager Gene Mauch's biggest need - veteran righthanded starting pitching. A solid No. 3 and 4 to buttress aces Jim Bunning and Chris Short. All it cost Quinn to pry former 24-game winner Larry Jackson and elderly swing man Bob Buhl from the Cubs was an obscure rookie reliever named Ferguson Jenkins, reserve first baseman John Herrnstein and outfield prospect Adolfo Phillips.

ROY HALLADAY scowled his way through his perfect game on Memorial Day weekend. Jim Bunning chattered his way through his perfect game on Father's Day, 46 years ago. Different courses for different horses. Halladay's teammates ducked and dodged, goaded by superstition, fearful of jinxing him. Bunning pursued his teammates, snatching at sleeves, yelping encouragement into startled faces. "I'd pitched a no-hitter [for Detroit in 1958]," Bunning recalled yesterday, taking time out from a family picnic.

Here are the results of the poll on Philly.com asking who is the best manager in Phillies history: 1. Charlie Manuel. . . 78.7 percent 2. Gene Mauch. . . 8.7 percent 3. Dallas Green. . . 8.5 percent 4. Danny Ozark. . . 2.3 percent 5. Eddie Sawyer. . . 1.3 percent 6. Jim Fregosi. . . 0.6 percent