Saturday, July 10, 2004
He's Worth the Price of Admission
I watched only one game last night: Devil Rays at Yankees. And while I guess I would label it a "good" game, it was certainly laborious to get through.
It was slow enough to lull me to sleep by the top of the 8th inning. I woke up at about 2:15 a.m. EST, and caught the remainder of the game at that point. The total game time was 3:26, which is kind of long for a game that ended as a 5-4 final. Nineteen hits, nine walks, nine pitchers were really the culprits. But there was just a lethargic feel to the affair, best symbolized by Lou Pinella's initial trip out to argue a call.
There was a close play at first in the 5th inning or so; call went against Tampa, as it should have. Lou did a half-jog out to the field, said something to Fred McGriff(probably "Do I have anything to argue about?"), quipped a couple of words to the first base ump and then strolled, and I mean strolledback to the dugout. Michael Kay made a little smart aleck comment about Lou getting slower in his later years. But doesn't Pinella always walk back to the dugout like that? His hat's a little dishelved, he looks a little frumpy; it's as if he's talking a midday walk on the beach. Kind of funny.
From a production standpoint, the game could've been an episode of The Lou Pinella Show as far as YES was concerned. I'll venture a guess that the network broadcasted 4 or 5 shots specifically of Joe Torre during the game. They seemed to get dozens and dozens of shots of Sweet Lou. There's Lou mumbling under his breath about his pitchers walking the ballpark. There's Lou cursing about his fate for being in the same division as the Yankees. The most memorable shot came when the Devil Rays left the bags loaded in the 5th. After the strike out of Jose Cruz, Jr. to end the inning, Lou offered the viewers the obligatory string of expletives and a kick, maybe of a cup or a bottle, a bat or a ball.
The Grumpy Lou motif reached its crescendo in the top of the 8th when he slipped into one of his trademarks: arguing balls and strikes. It prompted Dan Iassogna, the home plate umpire, to toss it him out of the game while he was still perched in the dugout, which prompted Lou to charge onto the field and spew some last venom. Might as well get some final shots in.
Overall, it was a B-performance. No hat kicking, no dirt kicking, no dirt throwing. A couple minutes of Lou ranting and raving, and then off quietly into the dark of the dugout tunnel. The crowd, most who still feel an allegiance to Pinella after his years in pinstripes, loved it of course, and many rose to their feet to cheer him as he angrily loped off the field. Choruses of "LOU-LOU-LOU" came poring out of the stands, like "BOO-BOO-BOO"s would for a pitcher who had gotten his brains racked around.
I imagine Pinella garners some satistfaction (enjoyment?) out of that moment. The moment he's walking off the field, ejected from the game, eyes glowing red, getting cheered like a hero. "I've done all I can here...It's up to you now, boys" The man is passionate about winning baseball games. I have no doubt about that. And like other coaches cut from the same cloth, I'm sure there is a certain amount of pride for that passion.
There aren't many managers in baseball with Pinella's emotional make-up. Bowa, for sure. I've seen Frank Robinson get pretty firey. Dusty, when the moment strikes. Bobby Cox probably gets tossed more than anyone.
But for the most part it seems the majority of dugouts are led by men of calmer dispositions: Torre, Francona, Showalter, Gardenhire, Scioscia, Macha, Howe, LaRussa (maybe the archetype for that emotionally-detached appearance), Alou, Tracy.
I might be missing good examples from both sides of the spectrum, but you get my point.
I don't think all hard-asses make for good leaders, and some can act like downright idiots sometimes. But there is an element that I think works for what I call the "yellers and screamers." Bobby Knight, Jim Calhoun, Bill Parcells, Rick Pitino, Lou Pinella, et al. Although players probably curse them behind their backs on a daily basis, something usually rubs off. They see their coach or manager ready to go balistic on an umpire or referee, willing to go to any emotional length to win a game.
It seems that there are fewer and fewer of these types of personalities making their way into big-time coaching. I don't know if it's the changing of dynamics between athletes-and-coaches, or coaches are being groomed differently. Whatever the reason, it seems there aren't too many Lou Pinellas on the horizon.
I think Pinella is one of the best managers in the game. I'm sure someone could counter me with different strategies of his or situations that portray him differently. But perception has a lot to do our opinions. And my perception is that Pinella lives and dies with each game he manages. And he has enough nuance that he doesn't lose his team, and his players don't tune him out. On the contrary, I think he's gotten the most out of his teams nearly every year he's managed.
I watched only one game last night: Devil Rays at Yankees. And while I guess I would label it a "good" game, it was certainly laborious to get through.
It was slow enough to lull me to sleep by the top of the 8th inning. I woke up at about 2:15 a.m. EST, and caught the remainder of the game at that point. The total game time was 3:26, which is kind of long for a game that ended as a 5-4 final. Nineteen hits, nine walks, nine pitchers were really the culprits. But there was just a lethargic feel to the affair, best symbolized by Lou Pinella's initial trip out to argue a call.
There was a close play at first in the 5th inning or so; call went against Tampa, as it should have. Lou did a half-jog out to the field, said something to Fred McGriff(probably "Do I have anything to argue about?"), quipped a couple of words to the first base ump and then strolled, and I mean strolledback to the dugout. Michael Kay made a little smart aleck comment about Lou getting slower in his later years. But doesn't Pinella always walk back to the dugout like that? His hat's a little dishelved, he looks a little frumpy; it's as if he's talking a midday walk on the beach. Kind of funny.
From a production standpoint, the game could've been an episode of The Lou Pinella Show as far as YES was concerned. I'll venture a guess that the network broadcasted 4 or 5 shots specifically of Joe Torre during the game. They seemed to get dozens and dozens of shots of Sweet Lou. There's Lou mumbling under his breath about his pitchers walking the ballpark. There's Lou cursing about his fate for being in the same division as the Yankees. The most memorable shot came when the Devil Rays left the bags loaded in the 5th. After the strike out of Jose Cruz, Jr. to end the inning, Lou offered the viewers the obligatory string of expletives and a kick, maybe of a cup or a bottle, a bat or a ball.
The Grumpy Lou motif reached its crescendo in the top of the 8th when he slipped into one of his trademarks: arguing balls and strikes. It prompted Dan Iassogna, the home plate umpire, to toss it him out of the game while he was still perched in the dugout, which prompted Lou to charge onto the field and spew some last venom. Might as well get some final shots in.
Overall, it was a B-performance. No hat kicking, no dirt kicking, no dirt throwing. A couple minutes of Lou ranting and raving, and then off quietly into the dark of the dugout tunnel. The crowd, most who still feel an allegiance to Pinella after his years in pinstripes, loved it of course, and many rose to their feet to cheer him as he angrily loped off the field. Choruses of "LOU-LOU-LOU" came poring out of the stands, like "BOO-BOO-BOO"s would for a pitcher who had gotten his brains racked around.
I imagine Pinella garners some satistfaction (enjoyment?) out of that moment. The moment he's walking off the field, ejected from the game, eyes glowing red, getting cheered like a hero. "I've done all I can here...It's up to you now, boys" The man is passionate about winning baseball games. I have no doubt about that. And like other coaches cut from the same cloth, I'm sure there is a certain amount of pride for that passion.
There aren't many managers in baseball with Pinella's emotional make-up. Bowa, for sure. I've seen Frank Robinson get pretty firey. Dusty, when the moment strikes. Bobby Cox probably gets tossed more than anyone.
But for the most part it seems the majority of dugouts are led by men of calmer dispositions: Torre, Francona, Showalter, Gardenhire, Scioscia, Macha, Howe, LaRussa (maybe the archetype for that emotionally-detached appearance), Alou, Tracy.
I might be missing good examples from both sides of the spectrum, but you get my point.
I don't think all hard-asses make for good leaders, and some can act like downright idiots sometimes. But there is an element that I think works for what I call the "yellers and screamers." Bobby Knight, Jim Calhoun, Bill Parcells, Rick Pitino, Lou Pinella, et al. Although players probably curse them behind their backs on a daily basis, something usually rubs off. They see their coach or manager ready to go balistic on an umpire or referee, willing to go to any emotional length to win a game.
It seems that there are fewer and fewer of these types of personalities making their way into big-time coaching. I don't know if it's the changing of dynamics between athletes-and-coaches, or coaches are being groomed differently. Whatever the reason, it seems there aren't too many Lou Pinellas on the horizon.
I think Pinella is one of the best managers in the game. I'm sure someone could counter me with different strategies of his or situations that portray him differently. But perception has a lot to do our opinions. And my perception is that Pinella lives and dies with each game he manages. And he has enough nuance that he doesn't lose his team, and his players don't tune him out. On the contrary, I think he's gotten the most out of his teams nearly every year he's managed.
