The Phillies’ ‘Stone Age’ quickly turned into a lot of rubble

How certain was the Phillies organization prior to the 1985 season that swift rookie outfielder Jeff Stone was destined to be the next best thing? So certain that the PR department dubbed the season The Stone Age.

This after he played just 51 big league games the prior season.

Back then the Phillies expected Stone, Juan Samuel and Von Hayes to combine to steal 150 bags that year. It never happened; they would steal 89, and 53 of those were by Samuel.

After hitting .307 in 82 games for Triple-A Portland in 1984, Stone got a late call-up and hit an eye-opening .362 with 27 stolen bases for the big club.

In his first two seasons of pro ball Stone stole 217 bases. In Reading in 1983 he became Eastern League MVP after leading his division-leading team in seven offensive categories including batting average (.317), stolen bases (90) and runs scored (a league-leading 109).

In 1983, watching Stone and Samuel run the bases was like watching the 400 relay Olympic trials.  They took your breath away.  They seemed destined to become perennial big league stars and more.

Enter John Felske, who replaced Paul “The Pope” Owens as Phillies manager in 1985.  Owens was a huge Stone fan; Felske, not so much.  He never got Stoney, a kid who grew up one of 15 children on a dirt farm in southern Missouri. 

Stone was not only burdened by his Southern drawl, but he also had to deal with an obvious speech impediment that often made understanding him difficult.  He also was uncommonly naive about everyday things the rest of us took for granted.

One time, in Pittsburgh, he was struggling under the stern hand of Felske and complained to a teammate that he had trouble falling to sleep at night.  His teammate suggested he count sheep.  Stone’s reply:  “There are no sheep in Pittsburgh.”

That was Stoney, but he was as lovable as a puppy, and his teammates, along with the media, pulled for him to succeed.

His numbers continued to shrink under Felske.  After Felske was fired in June 1987, Owens criticized his handling of Stone.

“I kept looking over my shoulder when Felske was the manager,” Stone told me some years later.  “What I did wasn’t enough.  When you’re young you expect the manager to teach you, not criticize you in the paper.  You expect the manager to stick with his players.

“The only thing I regret is that time in my career when he was the manager.  If the Pope was the manager I might have played a long time.  No matter what I did Felske criticized me in the paper.  I’d have a four-hit game and the next day I’d be on the bench.  Every day of my life I reflect back on those days and what I should have done.”

For three straight years Stone bounced back and forth between Triple-A and the majors.  Everybody but the Phillies Phanatic tried to change his game.  He stopped trying to steal a bag because he worried about Felske’s wrath if he got thrown out.

“I always wondered what John had against me,” said Stone, who admitted he would avoid the manager around the ballpark. “I’d see him coming and go the other way. With the Pope I had a lot of confidence. He made me feel I could hit big league pitching. With Felske, some days I didn’t know if I could hit or not.”

Felske was gone and so was Stone, traded to Baltimore where he endured an 0-21 start with the Orioles under Frank Robinson, another taskmaster who blamed Stone for everything from late-inning losses to burnt crab cakes in the press dining room.

He had brief stops in Texas, Boston and Cincinnati, but he never could recapture his early promise.

Early on the Phillies believed they were in possession of the next Lou Brock or Tim Raines.  Instead he was reduced to being a Replacement Player for the Phillies in the 1995 lockout season.  What a waste of talent was Jeff Stone.

“I was young and naive and I trusted everybody,” Stone said.  “I believed everybody and wanted to become a team player.  That’s why I never said anything when they tried to change me.  Looking back, I would have done it a lot differently, and I could have been at least a 10-year player.”

The Stone Age?  Jeff became stone-washed and he faded.

“I learned the hard way,” he said.  “But I’m a good guy and I treat people with respect.”

Too bad he didn’t get some in return when he most needed it.