TAMPA, FL – Being down south for Spring Training just ain’t the same. One of the things I looked forward to was rapping with the managers. Names like of Dusty Baker, Jim Leyland, Ron Gardenhire, Terry Francona, Bobby Cox and Joe Maddon are a thing of the past. They’ve been replaced by a bunch of, “who are these guys?” Names like Craig Albernaz, Don Kelly, Blake Butera and John Schneider all bear the manager title but the truth of the matter is they’re more like messengers. They deliver game strategy passed to them from some ANALytical geek, who wouldn’t know the launch angle of his erection.
Forget about hearing good stories from these so-called skippers, who are too busy walking around egg shells while being the ultimate company men.
I remember when Ron Gardenhire was managing the Twins and I asked him if he had a Shea Stadium highlight. The former Mets infielder said when Tom Seaver came back to the Mets and walked from the bullpen to the dugout before the game, the crowd erupted into a standing ovation. Gardenhire remembered, “I couldn’t believe how loud the crowd was, and the game hadn’t even begun. That was pure respect.”
A guy like Baker would sport his wristbands along with a toothpick when he was managing the Reds, who were still training in Florida at that time. I remember conversing with him about playing against Thurman Munson in those World Series games of the seventies. He reminisced about what kind of competitor Munson was. Another time he pleaded for me to introduce him to actor Richard Gere, who was on the field while awaiting to throw out the first pitch. Baker grabbed two baseballs for Gere to sign so he can auction them off at a charity event.
Francona, who’s managing the Reds now at their Spring home in Arizona, was with the Red Sox when I caught his ear about his patience with a struggling rookie named Dustin Pedroia. He said, “I could just see thru my eyes how great this kid was going to become.” That’s something those ANALytic nerds know nothing about.
I remember messing with Leyland about his black metal spikes on his feet, as he would playfully flick his cigarette at me.
Another time Braves pitching coach Roger McDowell let it be known that he was starving. I told him I can get him two cheeseburgers from the press cafe. When I told the cook who they were for he begged me to get him a Bobby Cox autographed ball. McDowell got me the signature by telling Cox the ball was for the cook who prepared his burgers. Cox snapped back, “Well hell, where’s mine?”, as he signed another ball for a burger.
A true social butterfly was Joe Maddon, who had a player on the Rays named Fernando Perez. Maddon would tell me about the brainiac that Perez was, and about a thesis he wrote while attending Columbia University.
For the past few years, the one on one interaction part during pre-game batting practice is a thing of the past. Social Media has turned humans into social misfits. It just ain’t what it used to be!
