Who Was Jiggs Parrott, ‘Worst’ Player in Cubs History?

With Pete Crow-Armstrong chasing down Rogers Hornsby‘s 1929 11.0 fWAR in 1929 as the best single season in Cubs franchise history, I got an itch to see who has the worst season on record. One player holds the distinction of having both the worst season and career among qualified players who’ve suited up for some iteration of the club: Walter Edward “Jiggs” Parrott. Ol’ Jiggs posted a -2.4 fWAR mark in 1894, more than half a game worse than Ronny Cedeno in 2006, and his -3.7 career mark is nearly a full game worse than the legendary Eddie Miksis.

An East Portland native who was born into a rabid baseball family on July 14, 1871, Parrott spent his childhood playing sandlot ball before starring at third base for the Portland Willamettes in 1888. The city had a team in the Pacific Northwest League during its inaugural season two years later, which they won in 1891. Parrott headed east to Minneapolis, where he batted .323 and played stellar defense before the league folded midway through the season.

“Parrott has the build of a successful third baseman,” read a report in The Sporting News. “He is tall and spare in flesh. He has been in a gymnasium all winter.”

As an aside, I find it quite interesting that baseball was embracing the gym in the 19th century, yet had to rediscover the value of working out about 100 years later. After seeing Rick Sutcliffe doing bicep curls, Don Zimmer threatened to cut the righty if he ever caught him lifting weights again. Even though Nolan Ryan and others could frequently be found under a bar, a far more common baseball exercise involved several reps of 12-ounce curls at a bar.

In any case, Parrott’s strong play attracted the eye of Chicago Colts manager Cap Anson, who signed the 21-year-old and installed him at third base. We’ll avoid Anson’s less savory backstory for the time being, but it’s interesting to note that his 81.8 fWAR is nearly 10 wins higher than Ron Santo for most in franchise history. Parrott was joined on the Colts the following season by his brother Tom, and they were the only two Oregonians to play in the major leagues in the 19th century.

Jiggs was demoted from second to seventh in the batting order in 1893, then was shifted to second base the following season. Though his batting average rose to .248 with a career-high three homers, the rest of the league averaged 61 points higher. That came after the mound distance was moved back to 60 feet, 6 inches the previous year, which resulted in the league average leaping from .241 to .280. Jiggs went from being a slightly above-average hitter to being well below overnight.

He also committed 49 errors in 123 games, though that was apparently not bad in those days. Parrott’s SABR biography notes that his fielding percentage was still better than league average. Sure enough, there are 53 individual seasons in Cubs history with more fielding gaffes, 44 of which came before 1906. Anson, primarily a first baseman, committed 583 errors in his career and had eight seasons with 40+ errors.

Maybe that’s why he was so sympathetic to Parrott’s shortcomings, even though many on the outside questioned it.

“It is true that [Anson] holds Parrot [sic] in high esteem and insists that ‘Jiggs’ is a great infielder, hence a suffering public may confidently expect to witness still further attempts of ‘Jiggs’ to hold down the second base bag,” read another Sporting News piece.

Parrott was relegated to a bench role in 1895, and the criticism of him had grown so strong that Anson told the media he would only play “Jigglets,” as a local scribe dubbed him, in away games. That’s like the olden-day version of platooning your Gold Glove left fielder against left-handed pitchers, or so some will say. Jiggs was released after playing in just three games, ending his big-league career at 23 years old.

He continued to play in the Western Association, hitting .351 in 26 games for Rockford in 1895 and .306 for Grand Rapids and Columbus the following season. He was in the throes of tuberculosis the following season and was quickly let go, at which point he moved to Phoenix for his health. That’s where in died April 14, 1898, three months shy of his 27th birthday.

Jiggs had telegraphed his father, Thomas, that morning to say that he had little time left to live. Younger brother Archie traveled to Phoenix to retrieve Jiggs’ remains, and the subsequent funeral was reportedly one of the largest the region had seen in many years. He was survived by his parents and seven siblings, most of whom were either ballplayers or musicians, and was laid to rest in Lone Fir Cemetery.

Known as “one of Oregon’s most treasured historic places and Portland’s second-largest arboretum,” the formerly rural setting was named for the solitary tree in its northwest corner that is still standing. Though the land around it has been heavily developed as Portland expanded, there’s a public park with a sandlot roughly half a mile from where Jiggs is buried.

For some reason, seeing that just made me feel wistful in the best possible way. Jiggs Parrott may not have been a very good baseball player by traditional measures, but he was clearly a talented player whose life and tragic death had a lasting impression on a great many people. If I ever find myself in Portland, I think I’ll have to stop and pay my respects.

The featured image is from an Out of the Park Baseball forum chat that identifies players from bygone teams.