Managing is getting paid for home runs that someone else hits.

In the flint-dry wit of Casey Stengel—“Managing is getting paid for home runs that someone else hits”—we hear an old truth hammered into a single swing. The line glitters because it is paradox and confession at once. The manager stands at the rail, not in the batter’s box; his knuckles do not sting from contact, yet the ledger of victory settles in his name. Thus Stengel names the strange economy of leadership: reward without the roar of the bat, responsibility without the joy of the trot. It is glory secondhand—and burden firsthand.

The ancients would have understood. Generals were crowned for battles that soldiers bled to win; kings received hymns for harvests coaxed from the backs of farmers. Good rulers trembled at this asymmetry; poor rulers feasted on it. Stengel’s proverb chooses humility over preening. It says: if you would manage, know that your work is to make the home run possible—choosing the order, reading the pitcher, tending the psyche—then stand aside when the thunder falls from another’s wrists. The laurel fits, but wear it lightly.

Look at the years when Stengel’s Yankees stacked pennants like cordwood. DiMaggio, Mantle, Berra—names that rang like hammered bronze—were the ones who actually hit. Yet a thousand unseen decisions braided their feats: platoons arranged for daylight and wind, bunts withheld, rest granted to legs that lied about their soreness. Stengel’s genius was not to take the swing, but to write the night so that the bat would find its fate. When the ball disappeared into the upper deck, the crowd exalted players and, by ancient custom, credited the manager. He accepted applause as trustee, not proprietor.

Then consider the other bookend: the 1962 Mets, newborn and hilariously mortal. The same Stengel could not conjure homers out of thin air. Here the proverb’s shadow speaks: Managing is also getting blamed for outs that someone else makes. This is why the saying is edged with rue. True leadership gathers consequences others generate, both good and ill. When the bats sleep, the shepherd stands with the flock anyway—answering for wolves, weather, and weak wrists.

Beyond the diamond, the proverb teaches all stewards of people. A principal is credited for scores students earn; a conductor bows for music the orchestra breathes; a project head receives the bonus for code typed by midnight hands. The noble rule is clear: pass the credit down, hold the accountability up. When the reporter asks about the home run, name the hitter; when the board asks about the failure, say “mine.” Thus the tribe learns whom to trust, and the young learn what authority is for.

So let the lesson be carried like a clubhouse rule carved in oak: if you would lead, build a world where others can hit farther than you ever could, and rejoice that the numbers add under their names. Your arts are selection, preparation, protection, and timing—scouting, practice, covering your people from the weather of panic. Shape the order; keep the dugout brave; notice slumps before the player does; send the pinch-hitter not to steal glory but to save a season. Then, when the crack comes, step back. Let applause find its rightful chest.

Practical counsel for modern dugouts—teams, schools, shops: (1) Hire for swing, coach for judgment—choose people for talent, train them to choose well under pressure. (2) Write the lineup, own the outcome—be explicit about roles and measures; when it goes wrong, be the first to the microphone. (3) Remove friction—tools ready, information clear, meetings short; leaders clear the lane so bats can fly. (4) Praise in public, correct in private—make your gratitude noisy and your guidance humane. (5) Practice substitution courage—change tactics early; loyalty to the mission outruns loyalty to a plan. (6) Keep the clubhouse whole—rituals, rest, and honest talk; exhaustion strikes out more rallies than bad luck. Do this, and Stengel’s jest becomes your creed: you will be paid in wins that someone else hits, and your honor will be to have made those swings possible.