I had a chance to talk with Joe Maddon today. I also had a chance to talk with Price, Jennings, Moore, and, well, everyone else on the team. I know just about all of them, and their personalities and it was great to be around them again. It’s a treat to be in a locker room where players are genuinely who they are, and not being some big league version of themselves, some institutionalized hybrid of ego and self preservation.
It was particularly great being around Joe Maddon again, and I credit him with making the rest of the atmosphere so enjoyable. To me, he is and will always be the ultimate player’s manager. I appreciate and respect Joe for all the same reasons a person might value a role model or an older wiser mentor figure: because they walk out their beliefs, they are beyond reproach, and most of all, because they care about the people around them.
Joe knew who I was. Instantly. He rose and shook my hand and asked me about my books. He apologized for not reading them, but said he’d read the reviews and wants to get around to reading them. His excuse was that he was stuck in a fiction trilogy, but mine were on the list. Somewhere. I absolved him of his guilt with a pass of my hand, then, just so I could see if we had anymore similarities (Reading fiction trilogies, which, FYI, made giddy) I asked him if he’d read any Cormac McCarthy. He said no. I gasped. He said, “You asked me that the last time”—The last time being nearly two seasons ago in spring training. I smiled, “you remembered” I said. He smiled, “of course.”
That should come as no surprise though. His memory is phenomenal, and not just for stats or positioning or rosters, but for the personal details that all good relationships are built from. He is charismatic to the point that he can sell you on yourself. He’s his own person, but values other people. He hears your words and he reads your tone and answers in relation to what is asked, why it’s asked, and the need of the asker. He is aware, which is not something you can say of every coach—or player for that matter—in this game.
I didn’t deduce all this from the minor amount of time we had together in that office pre-game, or in Rays spring training in 2011. I deduced it from watching his team and listening to him talk. He’s proactive in the shaping of the team dynamic—something so many managers neglect. He’s helped make Tampa one of the most enjoyable places to be a major leaguer at, and he’s accomplished it by letting guys be who they want to be on all ends of the spectrum.
After the game I told him that I had no real desire to get back into baseball or coaching, but when I watch him go about his business and the effect it has on players, their confidence, and their evolution, I want to, if only just to emulate what he does for the men beneath the Jersey.
He smiled, shook my hand and thanked me. “Thanks,” he said, “that means a lot.”