Maddon way is right way
By John Romano, Times Sports Columnist
Published Monday, August 18, 2008 11:26 PM
<HR noShade SIZE=1>ST. PETERSBURG — You think you know a manager. You can anticipate his moves, and you can guess his reasoning. You have seen enough to assume this job isn't so tricky, after all.
And then he does something so bold, so nervy, so grab-your-boys wild, that you start to wonder if you really know him at all. And, 48 hours later, he does it again.
Let me introduce you to Joe Maddon, renegade. If he weren't already the presumptive manager of the year in the American League, he may have just wrapped up the nomination.
In a single weekend, Maddon made two moves you could go decades and never see in a major-league stadium. And, like so many of his moves this season, both appeared absolutely correct.
On Friday in Texas, Maddon publicly embarrassed one of his best players for failing to hustle after being repeatedly warned. Suddenly Mr. Happy Go Lucky was channeling Billy Martin at his most confrontational.
Two days later, Maddon became just the second manager in the past 60 years to order an intentional walk with the bases loaded. And, just like that, Tony La Russa was looking like some old school relic.
"This is what he does," said Brian Anderson, assistant to the pitching coach. "He's not afraid. He is not afraid, and that's the thing I love about watching him manage."
Understand, these were not moves made in a vacuum. In the case of B.J. Upton, you're talking about a public humbling of one of the franchise's cornerstone players. And the Josh Hamilton intentional walk comes at a time when the Rays are entering their first pennant race on gauze and a prayer.
Yet Maddon ignored the safer, obvious choices to do what he felt was right.
"It took some (guts). And that's what makes a good manager," said Angels hitting coach Mickey Hatcher. "I think the bad managers are the ones who always go by the book because that way they can cover their a--."
There was no covering Maddon's backside Sunday night. Not even in his own dugout.
When Maddon waved four fingers at catcher Dioner Navarro with Hamilton at the plate and the bases loaded, he even caught pitcher Grant Balfour by surprise.
"When Navi put his arm out for the walk, I'll be honest, I didn't want to do it," Balfour said. "I knew the bases were loaded, but I still looked at third, second and first just to make sure I was seeing this right. Yeah, they were all loaded. There was nowhere else to go. No safety base.
"I didn't like it, but I put myself in that position. And it turned out to be the right move."
If you've been paying close attention, there have been signs of Maddon's independent streak before this. The Rays, after all, steal more and sacrifice less than any team in the majors. And Maddon's interchangeable use of closers in Troy Percival's absence is not your typical manager's move.
Along the way, he has had words with Percival on the mound, pointed conversations with Matt Garza in private and a run-in with Delmon Young at the end of last season.
What was shocking — at least in the case of Upton — was the in-your-face nature of this decision. Maddon has never been afraid to air out a player behind the scenes, but he is careful not to humiliate openly.
Because he tends to let players police themselves in the clubhouse, and because he is loath to criticize on the record, there is a perception Maddon is not a strict disciplinarian. In small ways, that might be true. But Maddon has always insisted effort and accountability will not be sacrificed, and Upton tested his patience once too often.
"What he did raised his credibility," said Angels broadcaster Rex Hudler, who was an Anaheim player when Maddon became a coach in 1994. "Every manager at some point and time has to show how far he is willing to go for discipline. It's like you're babysitting kids, you have to maintain discipline. Joe Torre has had to do it, (Mike) Scioscia has had to do it, Bobby Cox had to do it with Andruw Jones.
"When you're on the outside and you see a manager do something like that, you're thinking, 'Good for him. Way to take control.' It doesn't surprise me at all with Joe. He's always had that side to him. That side that was not afraid of confrontation, that side that was not afraid of speaking his mind."
There was another incident Monday night when Upton was caught from behind cruising into second base on what should have been a double. This time, Maddon seemed content that Upton's own embarrassment and the hopeful reproach from teammates would be punishment enough.
This is the point Maddon has been trying to preach since arriving in Tampa Bay. That all 25 players are in this together. That they are all accountable to one another.
And, in case they hadn't noticed, that their manager is, too.
John Romano can be reached at romano@sptimes.com.
Published Monday, August 18, 2008 11:26 PM
<HR noShade SIZE=1>ST. PETERSBURG — You think you know a manager. You can anticipate his moves, and you can guess his reasoning. You have seen enough to assume this job isn't so tricky, after all.
And then he does something so bold, so nervy, so grab-your-boys wild, that you start to wonder if you really know him at all. And, 48 hours later, he does it again.
Let me introduce you to Joe Maddon, renegade. If he weren't already the presumptive manager of the year in the American League, he may have just wrapped up the nomination.
In a single weekend, Maddon made two moves you could go decades and never see in a major-league stadium. And, like so many of his moves this season, both appeared absolutely correct.
On Friday in Texas, Maddon publicly embarrassed one of his best players for failing to hustle after being repeatedly warned. Suddenly Mr. Happy Go Lucky was channeling Billy Martin at his most confrontational.
Two days later, Maddon became just the second manager in the past 60 years to order an intentional walk with the bases loaded. And, just like that, Tony La Russa was looking like some old school relic.
"This is what he does," said Brian Anderson, assistant to the pitching coach. "He's not afraid. He is not afraid, and that's the thing I love about watching him manage."
Understand, these were not moves made in a vacuum. In the case of B.J. Upton, you're talking about a public humbling of one of the franchise's cornerstone players. And the Josh Hamilton intentional walk comes at a time when the Rays are entering their first pennant race on gauze and a prayer.
Yet Maddon ignored the safer, obvious choices to do what he felt was right.
"It took some (guts). And that's what makes a good manager," said Angels hitting coach Mickey Hatcher. "I think the bad managers are the ones who always go by the book because that way they can cover their a--."
There was no covering Maddon's backside Sunday night. Not even in his own dugout.
When Maddon waved four fingers at catcher Dioner Navarro with Hamilton at the plate and the bases loaded, he even caught pitcher Grant Balfour by surprise.
"When Navi put his arm out for the walk, I'll be honest, I didn't want to do it," Balfour said. "I knew the bases were loaded, but I still looked at third, second and first just to make sure I was seeing this right. Yeah, they were all loaded. There was nowhere else to go. No safety base.
"I didn't like it, but I put myself in that position. And it turned out to be the right move."
If you've been paying close attention, there have been signs of Maddon's independent streak before this. The Rays, after all, steal more and sacrifice less than any team in the majors. And Maddon's interchangeable use of closers in Troy Percival's absence is not your typical manager's move.
Along the way, he has had words with Percival on the mound, pointed conversations with Matt Garza in private and a run-in with Delmon Young at the end of last season.
What was shocking — at least in the case of Upton — was the in-your-face nature of this decision. Maddon has never been afraid to air out a player behind the scenes, but he is careful not to humiliate openly.
Because he tends to let players police themselves in the clubhouse, and because he is loath to criticize on the record, there is a perception Maddon is not a strict disciplinarian. In small ways, that might be true. But Maddon has always insisted effort and accountability will not be sacrificed, and Upton tested his patience once too often.
"What he did raised his credibility," said Angels broadcaster Rex Hudler, who was an Anaheim player when Maddon became a coach in 1994. "Every manager at some point and time has to show how far he is willing to go for discipline. It's like you're babysitting kids, you have to maintain discipline. Joe Torre has had to do it, (Mike) Scioscia has had to do it, Bobby Cox had to do it with Andruw Jones.
"When you're on the outside and you see a manager do something like that, you're thinking, 'Good for him. Way to take control.' It doesn't surprise me at all with Joe. He's always had that side to him. That side that was not afraid of confrontation, that side that was not afraid of speaking his mind."
There was another incident Monday night when Upton was caught from behind cruising into second base on what should have been a double. This time, Maddon seemed content that Upton's own embarrassment and the hopeful reproach from teammates would be punishment enough.
This is the point Maddon has been trying to preach since arriving in Tampa Bay. That all 25 players are in this together. That they are all accountable to one another.
And, in case they hadn't noticed, that their manager is, too.
John Romano can be reached at romano@sptimes.com.
Maddon's Way: Believing Is Seeing
By MARTIN FENNELLY | The Tampa Tribune
Published: October 2, 2008
ST. PETERSBURG - He saw it.
Even without his glasses, he saw it.
So what if hardly anybody else did when he first arrived in Tampa Bay three years ago? OK, the guys who hired him might have seen it, and some of the players he was hired to manage thought there was a chance, but, man, the man believed.
"Some people have to see it first," Maddon said. "I think you believe it, then you see it."
The Rays are in their first playoff game today.
See it. Believe it.
One reason is the presumptive American League Manager of the Year.
Presumptive?
It's Reagan-Mondale.
Here's to Joseph John Maddon, who looked at the Tampa Bay Rays and saw a shining city upon a hill.
"The man set the course," Rays DH Cliff Floyd said.
"He made us believe," Rays pitcher Matt Garza said.
From Corny To Cool
Maddon stood in the Rays clubhouse at Tropicana Field early Wednesday afternoon and signed black bats with a silver marker. He saw the slogan on the barrel and smiled.
"Hey, 9=8. Neat," Maddon said.
In spring training, Maddon explained to his Rays that "9=8" was a call to action - nine guys playing hard for nine innings equaled one of eight postseason spots. He even had T-shirts made for April.
It isn't corny anymore. It's cool - Joe cool.
They've written a baseball story for the ages, and Maddon's signature is all over. The Rays have grown up before our eyes. We're not the only ones watching.
"They grew up with a guy who is a baseball man ..." White Sox manager Ozzie Guillen said. "You don't win games without your players, but that manager has a lot to do with this organization."
Maddon watched only the last four innings of Tuesday's AL Central playoff between Guillen's Sox and the Twins. First he went and got a massage, then hit a Tampa Italian restaurant, Mr. T's, for pizza and some stories from the owner, a fellow paisan. Life remains a carnival for Joyful Joe.
"Found out this guy's name is Tino," Maddon said. "He's from Sicily. ... He wants me to go see his sister in Milan when I go on my honeymoon."
It's a Maddon, Maddon, Maddon world.
Wednesday, he named his starter for Game 1 of the AL Division Series: Mick Jagger.
The Rolling Stones will pound in his Dodge Ram on the way to the Trop today.
"The Stones. 'Start Me Up,'" Maddon said.
He started it up the day he arrived, and changed a culture.
For two years, he coaxed what he could out of this team. He floored it this season. Nearly every button he has pushed worked, on the field and inside players' heads.
The Maddon Way is more than computer-spit statistical tendencies and handy slogans. This season, the Maddon Way encouraged, and demanded. It meant ever-increasing accountability, it meant yanking B.J. Upton when he didn't hustle, and calling other Rays out doing the same in a win.
"I didn't know he had it in him when I first met him," Rays catcher Dioner Navarro said. "I thought he had to be the nicest manager in baseball. I still do, but he might be the best, too."
Players Have Gotten His Messages
The Maddon Way's biggest test might have been that seven-game losing streak before the All-Star break. Even Floyd, soothing veteran voice, quivered after loss No. 6.
"Skip?" he said to Maddon.
"We're good," Maddon told him.
"Then we lost the seventh game," Floyd said. "The world is howling, and all he tells us is, 'Enjoy your break. See you in a couple of days.'"
When they returned, Maddon began this way:
"Did you really think there wouldn't be any bumps?"
They understood.
There was another message.
"I said opportunities like this don't come around very often," Maddon said. "You have to grab it."
Now there are believers everywhere, stretching far beyond the Rays' clubhouse.
"I saw a guy walking down Howard Avenue last night about 9 with one of our blue Rays jerseys with the sleeves cut off," Maddon said. "I thought, oh, my God, I never thought I'd see that."
We've seen it all this season.
Joe Maddon saw it first.
By MARTIN FENNELLY | The Tampa Tribune
Published: October 2, 2008
ST. PETERSBURG - He saw it.
Even without his glasses, he saw it.
So what if hardly anybody else did when he first arrived in Tampa Bay three years ago? OK, the guys who hired him might have seen it, and some of the players he was hired to manage thought there was a chance, but, man, the man believed.
"Some people have to see it first," Maddon said. "I think you believe it, then you see it."
The Rays are in their first playoff game today.
See it. Believe it.
One reason is the presumptive American League Manager of the Year.
Presumptive?
It's Reagan-Mondale.
Here's to Joseph John Maddon, who looked at the Tampa Bay Rays and saw a shining city upon a hill.
"The man set the course," Rays DH Cliff Floyd said.
"He made us believe," Rays pitcher Matt Garza said.
From Corny To Cool
Maddon stood in the Rays clubhouse at Tropicana Field early Wednesday afternoon and signed black bats with a silver marker. He saw the slogan on the barrel and smiled.
"Hey, 9=8. Neat," Maddon said.
In spring training, Maddon explained to his Rays that "9=8" was a call to action - nine guys playing hard for nine innings equaled one of eight postseason spots. He even had T-shirts made for April.
It isn't corny anymore. It's cool - Joe cool.
They've written a baseball story for the ages, and Maddon's signature is all over. The Rays have grown up before our eyes. We're not the only ones watching.
"They grew up with a guy who is a baseball man ..." White Sox manager Ozzie Guillen said. "You don't win games without your players, but that manager has a lot to do with this organization."
Maddon watched only the last four innings of Tuesday's AL Central playoff between Guillen's Sox and the Twins. First he went and got a massage, then hit a Tampa Italian restaurant, Mr. T's, for pizza and some stories from the owner, a fellow paisan. Life remains a carnival for Joyful Joe.
"Found out this guy's name is Tino," Maddon said. "He's from Sicily. ... He wants me to go see his sister in Milan when I go on my honeymoon."
It's a Maddon, Maddon, Maddon world.
Wednesday, he named his starter for Game 1 of the AL Division Series: Mick Jagger.
The Rolling Stones will pound in his Dodge Ram on the way to the Trop today.
"The Stones. 'Start Me Up,'" Maddon said.
He started it up the day he arrived, and changed a culture.
For two years, he coaxed what he could out of this team. He floored it this season. Nearly every button he has pushed worked, on the field and inside players' heads.
The Maddon Way is more than computer-spit statistical tendencies and handy slogans. This season, the Maddon Way encouraged, and demanded. It meant ever-increasing accountability, it meant yanking B.J. Upton when he didn't hustle, and calling other Rays out doing the same in a win.
"I didn't know he had it in him when I first met him," Rays catcher Dioner Navarro said. "I thought he had to be the nicest manager in baseball. I still do, but he might be the best, too."
Players Have Gotten His Messages
The Maddon Way's biggest test might have been that seven-game losing streak before the All-Star break. Even Floyd, soothing veteran voice, quivered after loss No. 6.
"Skip?" he said to Maddon.
"We're good," Maddon told him.
"Then we lost the seventh game," Floyd said. "The world is howling, and all he tells us is, 'Enjoy your break. See you in a couple of days.'"
When they returned, Maddon began this way:
"Did you really think there wouldn't be any bumps?"
They understood.
There was another message.
"I said opportunities like this don't come around very often," Maddon said. "You have to grab it."
Now there are believers everywhere, stretching far beyond the Rays' clubhouse.
"I saw a guy walking down Howard Avenue last night about 9 with one of our blue Rays jerseys with the sleeves cut off," Maddon said. "I thought, oh, my God, I never thought I'd see that."
We've seen it all this season.
Joe Maddon saw it first.
Courant.com
Maddon Has Rays In Deep
Jeff Jacobs
October 10, 2008
ST. PETERSBURG, Fla. — Cliff Floyd, a 16-year major league veteran of six franchises and a pretty fair clubhouse philosopher, didn't need Occam's razor to cut to the chase.
"The big thing with Joe Maddon," Floyd said Thursday, "is he allows everybody to hold himself accountable."
Among those who wear designer black plastic glasses, only Tina Fey is a hotter commodity these days than Joe Maddon. He cooks. He gardens. He cycles. He loves music. He is a ravenous reader and drops deep quotations around the clubhouse the way some managers drop sunflower seeds. He has insisted the two greatest things he has ever seen are the roof of the Sistine Chapel and a Rolling Stones concert. Answering his first question on the eve of the ALCS opener, Maddon confirmed, yes, he will warm up for the Red Sox tonight with Mick Jagger and "Start Me Up." For the record, nobody asked about Michelangelo.
We could make a big play here about this son of a plumber becoming a 21st-century renaissance man, but renaissance suggests a rebirth and the Rays are not reborn. As a winning franchise, they are barely beyond gestation.
And that's the thing about the Rays completing the rarest of turnarounds, winning 97 games this season after losing 197 in Maddon's first two seasons. While he may quote Albert Camus, he thinks like Casey Stengel. He pedals his bike everywhere — even on road trips — for good exercise and better thought, but he doesn't peddle baloney. Sure, he can be an egghead, but with a lifetime in baseball, his 54-year-old shell was hard enough not to crack under the enormous pressure of a pennant race.
"Joe never panicked," Floyd said. "So we never panicked."
Maddon may be a man for all seasons, but he most definitely is the manager of the year in this one. His outer genius and inner strength is in convincing men — not ordering boys — to think for themselves and take ownership of their own destiny. And if that took getting a Mohawk like some of his players last month, well, there's genius for you.
"If I ever manage a team," Floyd said. "I'd love to manage like him. He's so even-keeled. We police ourselves. We have one bad apple, 24 guys get on that one bad guy. I could go on and on about how well it has been around here.
"It just doesn't happen that a team grows up overnight. Well, this team did."
At first blush, with the Zen, the Hugo Boss glasses, the three-decade Angels organization pedigree, you figure he has got to be California, some pretentious cousin of Phil Jackson, an old rider from Jim Morrison's storm. But, no, he's out of Hazleton, out of the Pennsylvania coal country, an Italian kid with the surname of Maddoninni, whose mom still tends the counter at the Third Base Luncheonette, who went to Lafayette as a quarterback and turned into a baseball lifer. It was Mike Scioscia, another Italian from eastern Pennsylvania, who had the smarts and self-assurance to hire Maddon as his bench coach after beating him out for the Angels' managerial job. Together they won it all in 2002. In '05, looking for new challenges, Maddon took over a team that had won nothing.
"Nobody was concerned much about winning," Maddon said. "We knew the culture needed to be changed. That requires time. We took some body blows."
Maddon's "9-8" spring training equation is Rays legend now. Hearing Floyd describing how he didn't know what the heck Maddon initially was talking about is hilarious. It's about nine men playing nine innings hard equaling one of eight postseason berths. On Thursday there was Maddon elaborating how it was also about nine more wins each from the offense, defense and pitching and how specificity gives purpose to dreams.
"You've got to believe it before you see it," he said. "I'd say the tipping point for that belief was [a successful series against] Toronto after we lost seven in a row going into the All-Star Break."
Asked to describe himself the other day, Maddon answered the opposite of what many folks would think.
"Simple," he said.
He may play four outfielders against David Ortiz, he may walk Josh Hamilton with the bases loaded, but Floyd insisted you must look beyond the periodic unorthodoxy. Maddon's emphasis is on catching the ball, timely hitting, fundamentals. He's at once a progressive and a traditionalist. Maddon may love a good Merlot, but he can appreciate a good Merloni, too.
"He'll have a whole cart of these sayings that you go, 'Geez, man, I don't really get that,"' Floyd said. "And then at the end of it, he'll go, 'I'm an old-school manager.' You get it."
Even Maddon's list of seemingly high-falutin' quotes are steeped in a simple message: Discipline yourself and nobody else will have to do it for you. Camus' quotation suggests exactly that: "Integrity has no need of rules." So, yes, Maddon will regularly quote authors and psychologists. On Thursday it was Harvey Dorfman. Yet even in citing 14th-century logician William of Ockham, the end game is the same. Occam's razor? All other things being equal, the simplest solution is best. ... Even if you use the razor on a Mohawk.
Maddon Has Rays In Deep
Jeff Jacobs
October 10, 2008
ST. PETERSBURG, Fla. — Cliff Floyd, a 16-year major league veteran of six franchises and a pretty fair clubhouse philosopher, didn't need Occam's razor to cut to the chase.
"The big thing with Joe Maddon," Floyd said Thursday, "is he allows everybody to hold himself accountable."
Among those who wear designer black plastic glasses, only Tina Fey is a hotter commodity these days than Joe Maddon. He cooks. He gardens. He cycles. He loves music. He is a ravenous reader and drops deep quotations around the clubhouse the way some managers drop sunflower seeds. He has insisted the two greatest things he has ever seen are the roof of the Sistine Chapel and a Rolling Stones concert. Answering his first question on the eve of the ALCS opener, Maddon confirmed, yes, he will warm up for the Red Sox tonight with Mick Jagger and "Start Me Up." For the record, nobody asked about Michelangelo.
We could make a big play here about this son of a plumber becoming a 21st-century renaissance man, but renaissance suggests a rebirth and the Rays are not reborn. As a winning franchise, they are barely beyond gestation.
And that's the thing about the Rays completing the rarest of turnarounds, winning 97 games this season after losing 197 in Maddon's first two seasons. While he may quote Albert Camus, he thinks like Casey Stengel. He pedals his bike everywhere — even on road trips — for good exercise and better thought, but he doesn't peddle baloney. Sure, he can be an egghead, but with a lifetime in baseball, his 54-year-old shell was hard enough not to crack under the enormous pressure of a pennant race.
"Joe never panicked," Floyd said. "So we never panicked."
Maddon may be a man for all seasons, but he most definitely is the manager of the year in this one. His outer genius and inner strength is in convincing men — not ordering boys — to think for themselves and take ownership of their own destiny. And if that took getting a Mohawk like some of his players last month, well, there's genius for you.
"If I ever manage a team," Floyd said. "I'd love to manage like him. He's so even-keeled. We police ourselves. We have one bad apple, 24 guys get on that one bad guy. I could go on and on about how well it has been around here.
"It just doesn't happen that a team grows up overnight. Well, this team did."
At first blush, with the Zen, the Hugo Boss glasses, the three-decade Angels organization pedigree, you figure he has got to be California, some pretentious cousin of Phil Jackson, an old rider from Jim Morrison's storm. But, no, he's out of Hazleton, out of the Pennsylvania coal country, an Italian kid with the surname of Maddoninni, whose mom still tends the counter at the Third Base Luncheonette, who went to Lafayette as a quarterback and turned into a baseball lifer. It was Mike Scioscia, another Italian from eastern Pennsylvania, who had the smarts and self-assurance to hire Maddon as his bench coach after beating him out for the Angels' managerial job. Together they won it all in 2002. In '05, looking for new challenges, Maddon took over a team that had won nothing.
"Nobody was concerned much about winning," Maddon said. "We knew the culture needed to be changed. That requires time. We took some body blows."
Maddon's "9-8" spring training equation is Rays legend now. Hearing Floyd describing how he didn't know what the heck Maddon initially was talking about is hilarious. It's about nine men playing nine innings hard equaling one of eight postseason berths. On Thursday there was Maddon elaborating how it was also about nine more wins each from the offense, defense and pitching and how specificity gives purpose to dreams.
"You've got to believe it before you see it," he said. "I'd say the tipping point for that belief was [a successful series against] Toronto after we lost seven in a row going into the All-Star Break."
Asked to describe himself the other day, Maddon answered the opposite of what many folks would think.
"Simple," he said.
He may play four outfielders against David Ortiz, he may walk Josh Hamilton with the bases loaded, but Floyd insisted you must look beyond the periodic unorthodoxy. Maddon's emphasis is on catching the ball, timely hitting, fundamentals. He's at once a progressive and a traditionalist. Maddon may love a good Merlot, but he can appreciate a good Merloni, too.
"He'll have a whole cart of these sayings that you go, 'Geez, man, I don't really get that,"' Floyd said. "And then at the end of it, he'll go, 'I'm an old-school manager.' You get it."
Even Maddon's list of seemingly high-falutin' quotes are steeped in a simple message: Discipline yourself and nobody else will have to do it for you. Camus' quotation suggests exactly that: "Integrity has no need of rules." So, yes, Maddon will regularly quote authors and psychologists. On Thursday it was Harvey Dorfman. Yet even in citing 14th-century logician William of Ockham, the end game is the same. Occam's razor? All other things being equal, the simplest solution is best. ... Even if you use the razor on a Mohawk.
Posted on Tue, Oct. 21, 2008
John Smallwood: Rays manager Maddon won't change hands-off style
By John Smallwood
Philadelphia Daily News
Daily News Sports Columnist
ST. PETERSBURG, Fla. - You want to know a secret? Tampa Bay manager Joe Maddon hasn't done anything different this season than in his first two seasons, when his Rays combined to win 127 games and twice finished last in the American League East.
In 2006 and 2007, Maddon's signature thick-rimmed glasses, which are just slightly thinner than the Coke bottles that JoePa sports, and unconventional style were colorful sidebars of the manager of a perennially losing franchise.
But now, with the Rays having a historical season of firsts - capped by their appearance in the World Series against the Phillies - Maddon is being hailed for his Zen-like, laissez-faire approach.
"It's amazing," said Maddon, 54, a native of Hazleton, Pa., who played baseball at Lafayette.
"I've still got the funny glasses. It's different because you win. Everything changes because you win."
OK, but how does Maddon explain a team that never had a winning season winning 97 games, the AL East title and then beating the Chicago White Sox and Boston Red Sox to advance to the World Series?
Why did all the stuff Maddon was doing suddenly work so spectacularly?
"All the things we're doing this year we did exactly the same," said Maddon, whose Rays will take on the Phillies in Game 1
tomorrow night at Tropicana Field. "Of course, the difference is personnel. We're getting performance, and the manager has nothing to do with that.
"You look at the bullpen, you look at the team, you look at the quality of our players. You've got young guys figuring things out. We've been trying to put these concepts out there for the last 3 years, but it takes time. You just don't get it done overnight."
The champagne-drenched celebration after the Rays beat the Red Sox in Game 7 of the American League Championship Series on Sunday might have been the most time Maddon has spent in the clubhouse all season.
He considers that his players' space.
He doesn't have a lot of rules, emphasizing that his players are professionals and should know their responsibilities.
When there is a problem, Maddon likes to deal with it on the road, out of the spotlight, away from prying eyes.
He not only listens to the music that his young players blast in the clubhouse, he embraces it and attempts to learn about it - even though he prefers the Rolling Stones or classic Motown.
More than anything, he just wants to allow his players to perform without getting in their way.
"I knew this fire chief, and he told me the secret to his job was teaching his guys to have fun even though they were dealing with life and death," said Maddon, who grew up rooting for the St. Louis Cardinals, not the Phillies. "I walk into our clubhouse and guys are treating baseball like life and death when it's a fun game.
"My philosophy basically is to stay out of the way as much as possible, quite frankly. I really believe when you play major league baseball, you play baseball every day. A lot of times if you talk too much or too loud, they turn you off, so I pick my spots."
When Maddon took over the Rays in 2006, his easygoing approach and quirky personality were in direct contrast of the 24/7 intensity of Lou Piniella.
It was the ideal style for a franchise that was making a commitment to building with the talented young players it had in its minor league system.
The theory was that since the Rays had consistently lost with veteran players, why not figure out what they had with young players and learn who could stick around to build something special.
Tampa Bay entered 2008 believing that the franchise's first winning season in its 11-year existence would represent a major step forward.
Instead the young Rays have shocked the baseball world.
"All of a sudden now, our guys are understanding what we were trying to get across," Maddon said. "I think we've been together for a while now, all the things are starting to come together a little bit better. I mean the pitching staff is better. The bullpen is a ton better. Offensively, on the field, our defense is better. We've made a lot of improvements."
But while Maddon claims a laissez-faire approach, his players have adopted his confident and positive style.
The Rays neither know nor believe they are not supposed to do what they are doing.
Consider this exchange between Maddon and pitcher Matt Garza in the seventh inning of Game 7.
Tampa Bay led, 2-1, but Boston was threatening and Garza had thrown well over 100 pitches. Maddon went to check on him.
"He looked at me, he said, 'How do you feel?' " Garza said. "I said, 'Great. You ain't taking me out of this game.' He just looked at me.
"I said, 'You're not taking me out of this game. This is my game, and I'm going to finish it off.'
"He said, 'Well, you look good. I'll see you later.' "
Garza got out of the mess unscathed and Maddon let him start the eighth before pulling him after the leadoff runner reached on an error.
"Believe me, when you deal with these people on a daily basis, you really understand their personalities," Maddon said. "I'm really proud of the fact that we have grown so much in such a short time."
At first glance, it might be easy to assume that Maddon's hands-off approach to managing was something that just popped into his head.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
It is a style based on 31 years of experience as a player, instructor and manager in the Angels' organization.
"I did it in the minor leagues, first of all and was very cognizant of creating what I perceived to be the right kind of atmosphere," said Maddon, who spent 12 years as a minor league manager or instructor before being promoted to the Angels' major league staff as a bullpen coach in 1994. "A lot of that is based on communication, openness, relationship building, those kind of things.
"You get to the major league clubhouse, having never played in the big leagues, I thought it was really important that I got there as a coach first so that I could observe. I did for like 10 years."
But let's be real, a manager who likes to pull out quotes from the famous and not-so-famous in history, who takes his bicycle on road trips to ride around and relax, who once hung help-wanted signs on his minor league clubhouse to emphasize to his players what other jobs they could have, was going to raise some eyebrows.
Not all of the Rays knew what to make of a manager who stressed the positives rather than dwell on the negatives, wasn't a big enforcer of rules designed to assert authority, and basically told guys to relax and have fun.
"You know, [Maddon] has got a lot quotes, man. It's kind of funny. I mean, a lot of times when he puts his quote out there, we kind of look at each other and chuckle a bit," pitcher James Shields said. "It doesn't make sense at the time, but sure enough it makes sense at the end."
Maddon's most prophetic slogan was the puzzling "9=8" that he pulled out at the start of spring training.
Ultimately, he informed his players that it meant nine players together for nine innings could end up with the Rays being one of the eight teams to make the playoffs.
"We looked at each other like, 'What's this guy talking about?' " Shields said. "The 9=8 probably takes it overall. That's something that nobody would probably ever think about.
"It made sense in the end. It
really did. We believed in it, and we believed in ourselves, and I think that's kind of what the point of all his slogans' talk is about.
"You've got to believe in yourselves before anybody else does."
Maddon believes in his young Rays.
When Tampa Bay blew a 7-0 lead to Boston after being nine outs away from the World Series, Maddon said his team should be upset for maybe a half-hour and then start thinking about winning Game 6.
When they lost Game 6 at home, he said they had no time to dwell on it because there was Game 7 to win.
"When you're a kid in the playground or in the backyard playing, you're always playing Game 7," Maddon said before the Rays took the field for the deciding game against Boston. "It would've been nice to do it in four [games], but I like the idea of Game 7.
"It's a wonderful opportunity for us to grow as a team and an organization."
Maddon's approach is different. It's the kind that could get a manager fired if the losing continued. But for the Rays at this particular moment in time, he is just right.
"I was telling other folks, when other managers and coaches aren't coming up and always giving, 'Hang in there, it's going to get better' kind of comments," Maddon said of when he knew things had changed for the better. "It started to turn to, 'Hey, listen, you guys are doing good. We like what you are doing.'
"These are things I've thought about in advance for a long time. I'm not just making things up as I go along this year; obviously, it's come together pretty nicely.
"I'd like to stick around for several more years to come and continue with the same patterns." *
John Smallwood: Rays manager Maddon won't change hands-off style
By John Smallwood
Philadelphia Daily News
Daily News Sports Columnist
ST. PETERSBURG, Fla. - You want to know a secret? Tampa Bay manager Joe Maddon hasn't done anything different this season than in his first two seasons, when his Rays combined to win 127 games and twice finished last in the American League East.
In 2006 and 2007, Maddon's signature thick-rimmed glasses, which are just slightly thinner than the Coke bottles that JoePa sports, and unconventional style were colorful sidebars of the manager of a perennially losing franchise.
But now, with the Rays having a historical season of firsts - capped by their appearance in the World Series against the Phillies - Maddon is being hailed for his Zen-like, laissez-faire approach.
"It's amazing," said Maddon, 54, a native of Hazleton, Pa., who played baseball at Lafayette.
"I've still got the funny glasses. It's different because you win. Everything changes because you win."
OK, but how does Maddon explain a team that never had a winning season winning 97 games, the AL East title and then beating the Chicago White Sox and Boston Red Sox to advance to the World Series?
Why did all the stuff Maddon was doing suddenly work so spectacularly?
"All the things we're doing this year we did exactly the same," said Maddon, whose Rays will take on the Phillies in Game 1
tomorrow night at Tropicana Field. "Of course, the difference is personnel. We're getting performance, and the manager has nothing to do with that.
"You look at the bullpen, you look at the team, you look at the quality of our players. You've got young guys figuring things out. We've been trying to put these concepts out there for the last 3 years, but it takes time. You just don't get it done overnight."
The champagne-drenched celebration after the Rays beat the Red Sox in Game 7 of the American League Championship Series on Sunday might have been the most time Maddon has spent in the clubhouse all season.
He considers that his players' space.
He doesn't have a lot of rules, emphasizing that his players are professionals and should know their responsibilities.
When there is a problem, Maddon likes to deal with it on the road, out of the spotlight, away from prying eyes.
He not only listens to the music that his young players blast in the clubhouse, he embraces it and attempts to learn about it - even though he prefers the Rolling Stones or classic Motown.
More than anything, he just wants to allow his players to perform without getting in their way.
"I knew this fire chief, and he told me the secret to his job was teaching his guys to have fun even though they were dealing with life and death," said Maddon, who grew up rooting for the St. Louis Cardinals, not the Phillies. "I walk into our clubhouse and guys are treating baseball like life and death when it's a fun game.
"My philosophy basically is to stay out of the way as much as possible, quite frankly. I really believe when you play major league baseball, you play baseball every day. A lot of times if you talk too much or too loud, they turn you off, so I pick my spots."
When Maddon took over the Rays in 2006, his easygoing approach and quirky personality were in direct contrast of the 24/7 intensity of Lou Piniella.
It was the ideal style for a franchise that was making a commitment to building with the talented young players it had in its minor league system.
The theory was that since the Rays had consistently lost with veteran players, why not figure out what they had with young players and learn who could stick around to build something special.
Tampa Bay entered 2008 believing that the franchise's first winning season in its 11-year existence would represent a major step forward.
Instead the young Rays have shocked the baseball world.
"All of a sudden now, our guys are understanding what we were trying to get across," Maddon said. "I think we've been together for a while now, all the things are starting to come together a little bit better. I mean the pitching staff is better. The bullpen is a ton better. Offensively, on the field, our defense is better. We've made a lot of improvements."
But while Maddon claims a laissez-faire approach, his players have adopted his confident and positive style.
The Rays neither know nor believe they are not supposed to do what they are doing.
Consider this exchange between Maddon and pitcher Matt Garza in the seventh inning of Game 7.
Tampa Bay led, 2-1, but Boston was threatening and Garza had thrown well over 100 pitches. Maddon went to check on him.
"He looked at me, he said, 'How do you feel?' " Garza said. "I said, 'Great. You ain't taking me out of this game.' He just looked at me.
"I said, 'You're not taking me out of this game. This is my game, and I'm going to finish it off.'
"He said, 'Well, you look good. I'll see you later.' "
Garza got out of the mess unscathed and Maddon let him start the eighth before pulling him after the leadoff runner reached on an error.
"Believe me, when you deal with these people on a daily basis, you really understand their personalities," Maddon said. "I'm really proud of the fact that we have grown so much in such a short time."
At first glance, it might be easy to assume that Maddon's hands-off approach to managing was something that just popped into his head.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
It is a style based on 31 years of experience as a player, instructor and manager in the Angels' organization.
"I did it in the minor leagues, first of all and was very cognizant of creating what I perceived to be the right kind of atmosphere," said Maddon, who spent 12 years as a minor league manager or instructor before being promoted to the Angels' major league staff as a bullpen coach in 1994. "A lot of that is based on communication, openness, relationship building, those kind of things.
"You get to the major league clubhouse, having never played in the big leagues, I thought it was really important that I got there as a coach first so that I could observe. I did for like 10 years."
But let's be real, a manager who likes to pull out quotes from the famous and not-so-famous in history, who takes his bicycle on road trips to ride around and relax, who once hung help-wanted signs on his minor league clubhouse to emphasize to his players what other jobs they could have, was going to raise some eyebrows.
Not all of the Rays knew what to make of a manager who stressed the positives rather than dwell on the negatives, wasn't a big enforcer of rules designed to assert authority, and basically told guys to relax and have fun.
"You know, [Maddon] has got a lot quotes, man. It's kind of funny. I mean, a lot of times when he puts his quote out there, we kind of look at each other and chuckle a bit," pitcher James Shields said. "It doesn't make sense at the time, but sure enough it makes sense at the end."
Maddon's most prophetic slogan was the puzzling "9=8" that he pulled out at the start of spring training.
Ultimately, he informed his players that it meant nine players together for nine innings could end up with the Rays being one of the eight teams to make the playoffs.
"We looked at each other like, 'What's this guy talking about?' " Shields said. "The 9=8 probably takes it overall. That's something that nobody would probably ever think about.
"It made sense in the end. It
really did. We believed in it, and we believed in ourselves, and I think that's kind of what the point of all his slogans' talk is about.
"You've got to believe in yourselves before anybody else does."
Maddon believes in his young Rays.
When Tampa Bay blew a 7-0 lead to Boston after being nine outs away from the World Series, Maddon said his team should be upset for maybe a half-hour and then start thinking about winning Game 6.
When they lost Game 6 at home, he said they had no time to dwell on it because there was Game 7 to win.
"When you're a kid in the playground or in the backyard playing, you're always playing Game 7," Maddon said before the Rays took the field for the deciding game against Boston. "It would've been nice to do it in four [games], but I like the idea of Game 7.
"It's a wonderful opportunity for us to grow as a team and an organization."
Maddon's approach is different. It's the kind that could get a manager fired if the losing continued. But for the Rays at this particular moment in time, he is just right.
"I was telling other folks, when other managers and coaches aren't coming up and always giving, 'Hang in there, it's going to get better' kind of comments," Maddon said of when he knew things had changed for the better. "It started to turn to, 'Hey, listen, you guys are doing good. We like what you are doing.'
"These are things I've thought about in advance for a long time. I'm not just making things up as I go along this year; obviously, it's come together pretty nicely.
"I'd like to stick around for several more years to come and continue with the same patterns." *
He has the best young talent, not the best manager though. I can point out at least 10 big mistakes he made in the playoffs, but his talent bailed him out. Things like green lighting a batter on a 3-0 count when the situation definitely didn't warrant it. He is not bad, but definitely not the best.
5teamer
You remember seeing Johnny Bench sitting in that bar at the Bahamas airport while we were all waiting on the flight back from that bash?
Just popped in my head because I read someone talking about catchers and Bench other day and remembered this...
You remember seeing Johnny Bench sitting in that bar at the Bahamas airport while we were all waiting on the flight back from that bash?
Just popped in my head because I read someone talking about catchers and Bench other day and remembered this...
http://www.tampabay.com/sports/base...s-finding-ways-to-rest-players-during/1246716
Tampa Bay Rays manager Joe Maddon is finding ways to rest players during grueling stretch
By Marc Topkin, Times Staff Writer
In Print: Monday, August 20, 2012
ANAHEIM, Calif. — Heading home after playing in southern California to wrap a 10-day road trip, the Rays would typically have today off. Instead, they'll be hosting the Royals tonight.
That treat came courtesy of the MLB schedule-makers as part of a stretch of playing 19 consecutive days. The Rays did adjust their schedule at the end of the week to accommodate the Republican National Convention event, moving the A's series to Thursday-Saturday with Sunday off.
With the quick turnaround today, manager Joe Maddon is plotting ways to rest players (for example, Ben Zobrist and Jeff Keppinger were off Sunday) and will reduce the pregame workload, having the players report later, in what he has called "American Legion" week, where they just show up and play.
"The first two-three days back are a huge concern for me, based on a 10-day trip and then going home without a day (off)," he said. "And it's exaggerated, or exacerbated, by going West Coast to East Coast, which rarely or almost never happens."
Of specific concern will be DH Evan Longoria, who has played 12 of 13 games since coming off the DL Aug. 7 after missing three months with a left hamstring injury. Maddon said he likely won't play Longoria tonight.
Longoria said he understands the concern but is feeling good at the plate and would see how the leg is today. "If it's the smartest thing to do overall and I'm a little sore then it's a possibility," he said. "But there's a possibility my stubbornness might take over, too."
Tampa Bay Rays manager Joe Maddon is finding ways to rest players during grueling stretch
By Marc Topkin, Times Staff Writer
In Print: Monday, August 20, 2012
ANAHEIM, Calif. — Heading home after playing in southern California to wrap a 10-day road trip, the Rays would typically have today off. Instead, they'll be hosting the Royals tonight.
That treat came courtesy of the MLB schedule-makers as part of a stretch of playing 19 consecutive days. The Rays did adjust their schedule at the end of the week to accommodate the Republican National Convention event, moving the A's series to Thursday-Saturday with Sunday off.
With the quick turnaround today, manager Joe Maddon is plotting ways to rest players (for example, Ben Zobrist and Jeff Keppinger were off Sunday) and will reduce the pregame workload, having the players report later, in what he has called "American Legion" week, where they just show up and play.
"The first two-three days back are a huge concern for me, based on a 10-day trip and then going home without a day (off)," he said. "And it's exaggerated, or exacerbated, by going West Coast to East Coast, which rarely or almost never happens."
Of specific concern will be DH Evan Longoria, who has played 12 of 13 games since coming off the DL Aug. 7 after missing three months with a left hamstring injury. Maddon said he likely won't play Longoria tonight.
Longoria said he understands the concern but is feeling good at the plate and would see how the leg is today. "If it's the smartest thing to do overall and I'm a little sore then it's a possibility," he said. "But there's a possibility my stubbornness might take over, too."
http://www.tampabay.com/sports/base...s-to-have-the-winning-touch-with-rays/2145332
Maddon, quirks prove to be winning combination with Rays
Gary Shelton, Times Sports Columnist
Thursday, October 3, 2013 6:10pm
BOSTON — This is his time. This is his place.
Joe Maddon, on the brink of another playoff series, sits inside the opposing manager's office at Fenway Park. He leans back in his chair, and he runs his hands over the sides of his face.
He is tired, and he looks it. It was almost daybreak when the previous night ended, but still, he is smiling and cracking jokes. That's hardly news. Most of the time, even in the pressure of the baseball playoffs, even when the mighty Red Sox are on deck, Maddon is smiling and cracking jokes. He leads the major leagues in punch lines.
After all, this is his moment. This is his history.
He is, by far, the best manager the Rays have ever had. You might as well go a step further. Maddon is the best pro coach or manager any Tampa Bay team has had in the history of ever.
Yes, he is better than Dungy. Yes, he is better than Gruden. Yes, he is better than Tortorella.
Time after time, Maddon has brought his Rays to this point. No, he hasn't won a championship, not like Gruden and not like Tortorella. But he has maintained excellence for a longer period of time. For six straight seasons, he has won. For four straight, he has won more than 90. For the fourth time in six years, he has taken the low-budget Rays to the playoffs. He seems destined to finish in the top four in the manager of the year voting for the fifth time.
And now come the Red Sox in the AL Division Series.
"This is so interesting and fun," Maddon says, grinning. "This is a blast. I wish we could train for it. To be up here under this circumstances and this venue, it doesn't get much better than that. Our players feel the same way. I'm not just speaking for myself."
Is this Maddon's best managing job? Maybe. When you consider starters Alex Cobb missed 50 games, and David Price missed 44, and Matt Moore missed 31 (a total of 125 games in a 162-game season), when you consider closer Fernando Rodney had huge stretches of time when he could not get a batter out, when you consider third baseman Evan Longoria scuffled for a long period of time, it was Maddon's best job of holding things together.
Do you want to know how good Maddon is? No one mentions his disadvantages anymore. No one talks about the budget or the offseasons or how the best free agents go elsewhere. No one talks about competing against the Red Sox and Yankees and Orioles, who all outspend the Rays. No one talks about how the unbalanced schedule makes 90 wins so difficult. They just expect the playoffs … and beyond.
Let's face it. In a way, major-league baseball is the toughest sport in which to coach or manage, simply because there is no free substitution. Drew Brees can throw the ball 50 times, and Adrian Peterson can run it 40. But Longoria is going to get the same four or five at-bats as the next guy.
So how do you judge a manager? Maybe you judge him in this way: How many ways can the guy beat you?
This was a different Rays team this year. It didn't run well, and it didn't hit the ball over the fence. The team's 73 stolen bases were tied for the worst by a Rays team (with 1999). The 165 home runs were the second-worst of the past six years.
And still, they won.
"I think flexibility is a good thing," Maddon said. "We've had to do it differently. We're not running the ball anymore. We've gone to a Sammy Baugh kind of drop-back mentality, where you drop back in the pocket. Who was the guy? Bob Waterfield? We're like that."
Maddon laughs. He is a funny man, a friendly man. And sometimes, that seems to drive his critics crazy. It always has.
You remember Maddon's early years, when everyone figured he was just another guy who was going to be eaten alive by this franchise. He didn't chew and he didn't spit and he didn't cuss. He was in contrast to every image everyone had of a major-league manager. Lou Piniella? Now he looked like a manager, by goodness. Maddon? He looked like a Grateful Dead fan at a steelworkers convention.
Eventually, Maddon sponged off the clubhouse and remade it into the Maddon Zoo, where snakes, penguins and monkeys have been known to stop by on a summer's eve.
"We had to flush the whole thing," Maddon says, looking back. "My father was a plumber. Sometimes, you just have to clean the whole thing."
Amazingly, it worked. The front office kept finding pitchers and defenders, and the right players blossomed, and Maddon was the orchestra leader.
"The thing that comes to mind when you think of Joe Maddon is that he's fun," second baseman Ben Zobrist said. "He makes the managerial position a fun position. He tries to communicate that to us, that he wants us to have fun out here. Yeah, it's our job. Yeah, there is a lot of pressure involved. We're out there trying to do very difficult things. He tries to take the pressure off."
Ah, but are there times the team rolls its eyes at Maddon's antics with pythons and exotic birds?
"Absolutely," Zobrist says, grinning. "There is no question. Some of us are, 'What are we doing? What is going on?' We just kind of roll with it. If there is anything you don't get, try not to figure it out. Just roll with it. More often than not it works, and that's the genius."
And so Maddon tinkers with his lineup, and he tries to create matchups, and he leaves outsiders wondering what he was thinking when.
"For me, my main objective is to help organize the day and then, and I mean this sincerely, stay out of the way during the game as much as I can," Maddon said. "I think it's only important to interfere when it's … like (Wednesday) night. I thought we had to interfere last night on Alex Cobb's 107th pitch when we got Joel Peralta in the game with a good matchup against (Nick) Swisher.
"I don't try to consider if I've made a difference or not. I just want to do my job on a daily basis. I tell myself to be consistent, be consistent, be consistent. When I walk in the door, I don't want my players to have any surprises about me."
At this point, of course, Maddon needs to start thinking. He has to find his way around an impressive pitching staff of the Red Sox, and he has to tame their hitting. He has to find a way to the next round.
After all, he is Tampa Bay's best.
Who else is going to plot a course?
Maddon, quirks prove to be winning combination with Rays 10/03/13 [Last modified: Thursday, October 3, 2013 10:37pm]
Maddon, quirks prove to be winning combination with Rays
Gary Shelton, Times Sports Columnist
Thursday, October 3, 2013 6:10pm
BOSTON — This is his time. This is his place.
Joe Maddon, on the brink of another playoff series, sits inside the opposing manager's office at Fenway Park. He leans back in his chair, and he runs his hands over the sides of his face.
He is tired, and he looks it. It was almost daybreak when the previous night ended, but still, he is smiling and cracking jokes. That's hardly news. Most of the time, even in the pressure of the baseball playoffs, even when the mighty Red Sox are on deck, Maddon is smiling and cracking jokes. He leads the major leagues in punch lines.
After all, this is his moment. This is his history.
He is, by far, the best manager the Rays have ever had. You might as well go a step further. Maddon is the best pro coach or manager any Tampa Bay team has had in the history of ever.
Yes, he is better than Dungy. Yes, he is better than Gruden. Yes, he is better than Tortorella.
Time after time, Maddon has brought his Rays to this point. No, he hasn't won a championship, not like Gruden and not like Tortorella. But he has maintained excellence for a longer period of time. For six straight seasons, he has won. For four straight, he has won more than 90. For the fourth time in six years, he has taken the low-budget Rays to the playoffs. He seems destined to finish in the top four in the manager of the year voting for the fifth time.
And now come the Red Sox in the AL Division Series.
"This is so interesting and fun," Maddon says, grinning. "This is a blast. I wish we could train for it. To be up here under this circumstances and this venue, it doesn't get much better than that. Our players feel the same way. I'm not just speaking for myself."
Is this Maddon's best managing job? Maybe. When you consider starters Alex Cobb missed 50 games, and David Price missed 44, and Matt Moore missed 31 (a total of 125 games in a 162-game season), when you consider closer Fernando Rodney had huge stretches of time when he could not get a batter out, when you consider third baseman Evan Longoria scuffled for a long period of time, it was Maddon's best job of holding things together.
Do you want to know how good Maddon is? No one mentions his disadvantages anymore. No one talks about the budget or the offseasons or how the best free agents go elsewhere. No one talks about competing against the Red Sox and Yankees and Orioles, who all outspend the Rays. No one talks about how the unbalanced schedule makes 90 wins so difficult. They just expect the playoffs … and beyond.
Let's face it. In a way, major-league baseball is the toughest sport in which to coach or manage, simply because there is no free substitution. Drew Brees can throw the ball 50 times, and Adrian Peterson can run it 40. But Longoria is going to get the same four or five at-bats as the next guy.
So how do you judge a manager? Maybe you judge him in this way: How many ways can the guy beat you?
This was a different Rays team this year. It didn't run well, and it didn't hit the ball over the fence. The team's 73 stolen bases were tied for the worst by a Rays team (with 1999). The 165 home runs were the second-worst of the past six years.
And still, they won.
"I think flexibility is a good thing," Maddon said. "We've had to do it differently. We're not running the ball anymore. We've gone to a Sammy Baugh kind of drop-back mentality, where you drop back in the pocket. Who was the guy? Bob Waterfield? We're like that."
Maddon laughs. He is a funny man, a friendly man. And sometimes, that seems to drive his critics crazy. It always has.
You remember Maddon's early years, when everyone figured he was just another guy who was going to be eaten alive by this franchise. He didn't chew and he didn't spit and he didn't cuss. He was in contrast to every image everyone had of a major-league manager. Lou Piniella? Now he looked like a manager, by goodness. Maddon? He looked like a Grateful Dead fan at a steelworkers convention.
Eventually, Maddon sponged off the clubhouse and remade it into the Maddon Zoo, where snakes, penguins and monkeys have been known to stop by on a summer's eve.
"We had to flush the whole thing," Maddon says, looking back. "My father was a plumber. Sometimes, you just have to clean the whole thing."
Amazingly, it worked. The front office kept finding pitchers and defenders, and the right players blossomed, and Maddon was the orchestra leader.
"The thing that comes to mind when you think of Joe Maddon is that he's fun," second baseman Ben Zobrist said. "He makes the managerial position a fun position. He tries to communicate that to us, that he wants us to have fun out here. Yeah, it's our job. Yeah, there is a lot of pressure involved. We're out there trying to do very difficult things. He tries to take the pressure off."
Ah, but are there times the team rolls its eyes at Maddon's antics with pythons and exotic birds?
"Absolutely," Zobrist says, grinning. "There is no question. Some of us are, 'What are we doing? What is going on?' We just kind of roll with it. If there is anything you don't get, try not to figure it out. Just roll with it. More often than not it works, and that's the genius."
And so Maddon tinkers with his lineup, and he tries to create matchups, and he leaves outsiders wondering what he was thinking when.
"For me, my main objective is to help organize the day and then, and I mean this sincerely, stay out of the way during the game as much as I can," Maddon said. "I think it's only important to interfere when it's … like (Wednesday) night. I thought we had to interfere last night on Alex Cobb's 107th pitch when we got Joel Peralta in the game with a good matchup against (Nick) Swisher.
"I don't try to consider if I've made a difference or not. I just want to do my job on a daily basis. I tell myself to be consistent, be consistent, be consistent. When I walk in the door, I don't want my players to have any surprises about me."
At this point, of course, Maddon needs to start thinking. He has to find his way around an impressive pitching staff of the Red Sox, and he has to tame their hitting. He has to find a way to the next round.
After all, he is Tampa Bay's best.
Who else is going to plot a course?
Maddon, quirks prove to be winning combination with Rays 10/03/13 [Last modified: Thursday, October 3, 2013 10:37pm]
