Which batter comes to plate the most times over the course of a season?  The guy in the #1 spot, right?  Knowing that, who would you put in the #1 spot in the order?  The best hitter on your team, of course.  The guy with the highest on-base percentage would logically stand the best chance of getting on base, and that's the guy you want at the plate more often than anyone else, right?

If you nodded your head in agreement, you just failed your cyberspace test to be a major league manager.  If you were fit to be a major league manager you would have said that the #1 slot should be filled be a speedy guy who can steal bases.  If he has good feet then he belongs in the #1 spot, even if he has a .250 batting average and a .275 on-base percentage.  Your best hitter, the guy with the .336 average who draws 110 walks per year, he belongs in the #3 spot where he can drive in the speedy guy after your #2 hitter bunts him over to second.

If we were able to go back in time to 1910, to when this particular strategy was effective, we would easily be able to see why it made sense to fill out your lineup card in this fashion.  Baseball back then was generally a low-scoring affair, and if you managed to get your leadoff hitter on base, you would immediately have your #2 hitter (a good contact man with a keen batting eye and excellent plate discipline) bunt him over to second, where he would now be in scoring position for the heart of your lineup.  If you scored a run in the first inning it may very well hold up for the whole game.  Your whole offense was designed to score that run, because in the early days of baseball (which were rife with spitballs, scuffballs, mudballs, shiners, and pine tar balls) the chances of a couple of multi-run homers later in the game were essentially nil, for both you and your opponent.  The same baseball was usually used for the entire game, and it was beat-up and mushy.  Players knew better than to try to hit it out of the park, so home runs were nearly unheard of.  When Frank "Homerun" Baker gets his nickname after hitting only thirteen in a single season, you know we're talking about a vastly different era.

However, back here at the start of the 21st century, is there anyone who can remember any multi-homer games recently?  Of course there is.  It happens nearly every day.  So why are managers still filling out their lineup cards as though they were playing for one run?

In a typical season, the #1 spot in the order will come to the plate approximately 750 times.  The #4 spot will come up about 700 times, and the #8 spot will come up about 625 times.  The big-money player on your team, the guy who hits .337, has a slugging percentage of .693 and an on-base percentage of .407, where do you want him to hit?  In the spot where he gets 750 at bats, or in the spot where he gets only 700?  And what about that speedy little base stealer you traded away two promising AA pitchers for?  You know, the guy with the .250 average and the .275 on-base percentage?  Should we see that he gets 750 at bats this year, or only 625?

Of course, if you bat your best hitter in the leadoff spot, he may hit a home run with no one on base.  But it is certainly worth that "risk" in order to bring him to the plate fifty extra times.  The guy who can't hit or draw a walk to save his life belongs at the bottom of the order, where the impact of his dismal batting skills can be minimized.

Of course, if you take someone like Vladimir Guerrero and stick him in the #1 spot, his RBI's will go down and his agent will be on the phone with you, demanding to know why you are treating his client in such a disrespectful manner.  Since what you are doing is outside of the usual rut where most managers get their mail, you will be made fun of and heavily criticized, especially when the #4 slot comes up in the bottom of the ninth and Guerrero isn't there to fill it.  Knowing the repercussions, most managers (if not all) are unwilling to try anything different, even if it means they might win more games.  Unfortunately for the state of the game, if a manager plods along and loses while using outdated but accepted tactics, he gets off far easier than a manager who tries something different.

I'd like to see a manager come out of the All-Star break with his 40 wins-41 losses team and start making out his lineup card in descending order of OPS.  What's he got to lose at that point?  I'd also like to see him tell his pitchers not to hold runners on, knowing that the disadvantage in having the first baseman out of position outweighs the edge in keeping the runner from getting a good jump on second base.  Maybe he could bring in his closer when the game is on the line in the seventh inning, instead of waiting for the bullpen to blow it.  I'd love to see the manager get rid of all the "no-hit, good-glove" players and replace them with guys who didn't create a giant black hole in the line up.  In today's hitter-oriented game, having a shortstop who hits .220 with no power and no walks, but who has a "really good glove" is simply a wasted roster spot.  And I'd really love to see teams dump over-30 veterans who demand $10 million per year and then turn in a performance only marginally better than any one of a dozen 24-year-old minor leaguers would have done for 1/20th of the price.