A renewed appreciation for Bruce Bochy was one of the biggest stories to come out of the WORLD CHAMPION GIANTS (nope, not old yet). For much of his tenure, many fans doubted his ability to effectively manage the team and the most common criticism: over-playing veterans. I’ve been a Bochy apologist, as a result of personal nostalgia (growing up watching him manage the Padres, my grandparents’ team), but also because I think he does a good job managing personalities.
Defining a manager’s job means judging intangibles in a sport where numbers spell a different truth. I think fans misjudge the purpose of a manager and attribute failures too easily and successes too rarely. In defense of managers, I offer an anecdote from the 2010 Mariners. Don Wakamatsu, a quiet, even-tempered manager who had guided the team to unexpected success in 2009, came into 2010 with great expectations and high profile signings and trades. Seattle welcomed back Ken Griffey, Jr. in 2009 and resigned him for 2010, hoping that he would have marginal success as a player, but more success as a clubhouse leader. When stories broke about Jr. sleeping in the clubhouse and a fight about playing time between Chone Figgins and Wakamatsu, it became clear to Seattle sports media that as a manager, Wakamatsu had lost control of the clubhouse. To many, he was aloof, out of touch with the players, and unable to command the team’s respect as their record became more and more dismal. The players gave up easy errors in the field, had no focus at the plate, and simply did not look like they were having any fun. The way the Mariners lost in 2010 meant more than the wrong personnel and poor numbers, it meant bad management of personalities.
Bruce Bochy, on the other hand, enjoyed a lot of success as manager of the Giants (understatement). Known by many as a players’ manager, he is also famously known for his affinity for veteran presence. In one story, Bochy tells then-Padres GM Kevin Towers that if Bochy had a player, he would play him. If the player was not supposed to be played, he shouldn’t be on the team. This contributed to the fracture between Bochy and the front office and ultimately resulted in Bochy’s departure. Critics of Bochy’s style point to this incident as an example of bad baseball. Reading this article from 2006, I get the impression that while Bochy’s style grates with some, the results speak for themselves. I don’t just mean the records, either, or players playing well in spite of Bochy’s management (a key argument I run into with other SF fans), but players’ attitudes toward Bochy.
One thing that many Giants fans noticed about this year’s team was its ego-less clubhouse–how much fun they seemed to have playing together. Even through various personnel changes, the attitude remained the same. This could only happen, in my opinion, with a steady, fair, and deft manager at the helm–a manager who relies on his coaches’ opinions, hears his players’ needs, knows his staff’s personalities (big and small), and talks closely with upper management. A common example might be the departure of Bengie Molina and the arrival of Buster Posey. Many criticized Bochy for leaving Molina behind the dish and further denying Posey the opportunity to shine. (Remember, the decision to leave Posey in AAA ultimately fell to Brian Sabean, the General Manager, on the advice of Bochy, but also minor league coaches, scouts, analysts, and others. A lot of people unfairly blame, or put a lot of the blame, on Bochy.) Bochy understood two things, however: Molina’s sensitive ego and the pitching staff’s (particularly two-time Cy Young Award Winner Lincecum’s) closeness to the backstop. Bochy needed to balance these two elements along with deciding how to work Posey into games. Obviously, these decisions have no black and white answer and many people have their opinions on what should have been done, but mark my words: if Molina felt slighted, we would have known. When he heard from a teammate about his trade to the Rangers before anyone in upper management had broken the news, Bengie’s negative reaction was in print the next day. While his loyalty to the skipper may have been deeper than that for the brass, Molina’s ego bruises easily and I doubt it would have been under wraps for long. Couple that with Tim’s loyalty to his battery-mate and a bigger deal could have been made out of an already complicated personnel decision. If this matter isn’t handled well, if the personalities are not managed, it can translate to bad baseball on the field–just ask Mariners fans.
The bottom line is this: managers do not just manage the game. They have much more on their plate than what we see on the field, from what goes on in the clubhouse, to how the front office handles transactions, to how each coach perceives a players’ performance. My second favorite manager-related story from the year was the talk Bochy had with the team before a Cubs game at Wrigley, telling the slumping hitters to be patient, not to press, and to rely on their teammates. It came out later that Renteria broke down during the meeting, expressing that he had been letting them all down with his performance, and the guys rallied behind him. They scored 13 runs in that game. A truly great manager knows when to call those meetings and what to ask.
With the World Championship, I could say the proof is in the pudding, but that simply will not satisfy many fans. As they eat their respective crows, however, I offer this: fans will never know everything that goes on during a season. We like to think we do and I pore over our little tidbits like a mouse looking for a crumb. But if all we have is numbers and projections and analysis and bits and pieces of clubhouse gossip, we are still missing a huge piece of the delicious pie. It’s the manager’s job to make a winner out of all this mess we call baseball. Bruce Bochy did it this year and we all owe him a huge “thanks.”
Oh, and my favorite Bochy story? Two words: Don Mattingly.
Sidenote on Manager of the Year:
Bud Black totally deserved it for a job well done, though anyone who speculates that the Padres shouldn’t have been that good should remember that the Giants were not expected to be playoff contenders either. I must protest that the postseason should be left out of these awards. Something needs to change, because Bochy truly shined in the playoffs.
Second sidenote on people who complain that the “World” Series is a misnomer:
Anyone in the world who wants to play baseball at the highest level comes to MLB. Domincan, Cuban, Japanese, Mexican, American, Canadian, Austrailian…Thus, World Series. QED.
