Close Reading Rainbow
The big Francona/Shaughnessy tell-some book on Tito’s tenure in Boston will be available for purchase in a week, so its juiciest sections are getting the usual pre-publication flogging on sports media. It looks like Sports Illustrated will be publishing longer excerpts soon, but a few bits have been made available already. (The best run-down is probably in Gordon Edes’ piece on ESPN Boston.) My reaction is mostly that if this is the worst that Shaughnessy could coax from Tito, then Tito is without doubt one of the better human beings ever to manage a baseball team. There’s very little dirt.
The funniest thing, really, is how the Edes article demonstrates the ridiculous focus and diligence of the Red Sox media management team, as well as the pliability of the Boston press. There’s a small, barely-a-story anecdote about Francona becoming angry at a comment Tom Werner made at a lunch meeting, a moment which Theo defused quietly. And yet, well, see:
As for chairman Tom Werner, the book describes how the manager nearly walked out of a lunch meeting he had with the owners in 2010 when, according to the excerpt, “Werner talked about slumping television ratings and whined, ‘We need to start winning in more exciting fashion.’
“Francona started to get up out of his chair, but Epstein grabbed his knee. ‘A good move by Theo,’ Francona said later. ‘When Tom started talking about ratings, Theo knew I was getting ready to flare.’”
Francona admits he may have been primed to react “aggressively” at that meeting. A person with knowledge of Werner’s comment said Tuesday that Werner was laughing when he said it, and the parties present, with the possible exception of Francona, understood it to be a joke.
This is a source who not only knows what was said at a private lunch meeting, but also can comment knowledgeably on the internal mental state of all the participants in the meeting. Basically, it has to be Epstein or one of Henry/Werner/Lucchino. And yet Edes grants him anonymity to rebut Francona’s memory of the events. It’s simply unethical to grant anonymity to an entirely self-serving source, and it’s entirely ridiculous that Red Sox ownership has a 24-hour rapid response team for non-stories like this. This isn’t something that matters, really - the pliability of the Boston sports media matters, but it’s hardly new - but it is silly.
For something that does seem like a real baseball story, there appears to be a claim by Francona/Shaughnessy that the Sox signed Gonzalez and Crawford for marketing reasons. (This honestly sounds a lot more like a claim by Shaughnessy that Francona signed off on than something Francona himself thought.) I don’t find it convincing, though there’s a core to the story that is meaningful and a bit troubling.
The fixation with declining TV ratings led to the club commissioning a $100,000 market research survey, the results of which were discussed in November 2010, a little more than a month after the Sox had failed to make the playoffs, primarily because of a devastating run of injuries. “The document distributed at the meeting listed several factors in the public’s falling interest in the team,” the excerpt reads. “Chief among them was the ‘no-name’ lineup the team was forced to use in 2010 because of injuries and the lack of major trades or signings the winter before. In a section on male-female demographics, the report stated, ‘[W]omen are definitely more drawn to the “soap opera” and “reality-TV” aspects of the game. … They are interested in good-looking stars and sex symbols (Pedroia).’”
At first read, Epstein offers one of the most damning indictments of the owners’ priorities in the excerpt, although the consultants—and this meeting was a first, and last, of its kind for the GM in his tenure in Boston—are clearly the target for much of his scorn “They told us we didn’t have any marketable players, that we needed some sizzle,” he recalled. “We need some sexy guys. Talk about the tail wagging the dog. This is like an absurdist comedy. We’d become too big. It was the farthest thing removed from what we set out to be.”
The book contends that Epstein was responding “to the pressure from his bosses and the sagging ratings” when he traded for Adrian Gonzalez and signed free agent Carl Crawford, eventually signing the pair for a combined total of 14 years and $296 million.
You get a strong sense here that Epstein disliked his bosses. This makes sense, given what we know of his tenure, the gorilla suit epoch, and all that. He disliked them precisely because they wanted to determine baseball decisions based on not-100% baseball reasons, because they had a vision of the Red Sox as something other than a ballclub, something much more and much less than a public trust.
At the same time, and as Edes points out toward the conclusion of the article, the argument that Theo and baseball ops were forced into the Gonzalez and Crawford acquisitions sounds entirely wrong to me. Coming out of 2010, the Red Sox had a core of under-30 talent that just needed a couple more pieces to project as World Series contenders for several years running. Big acquisitions made sense. Theo’s desire to acquire Adrian Gonzalez had been widely reported for years before the trade. Further, there was a statistical case for signing Crawford, and the reports of the internal discussions on Jersey St generally tell of a baseball ops team who believed in their defensive numbers, whose research into Crawford suggested a player who would fit in well in Boston and age well as a ballplayer. They convinced a skeptical ownership.
Now, it is likely that baseball ops were given a directive to add superstar talent and given leeway to add long-term payroll in order to do so. It is reasonable that baseball ops, given this directive, tended to rationalize away information that could have challenged the intelligence of the signings - Gonzalez’ shoulder surgery, Crawford’s elbow injury, doubts about defensive statistics, the internal debate over whether Crawford’s D would translate in Fenway. But those failings, again, are on baseball ops much more than they’re on ownership.
Francona’s allegation that ownership seem only partway focused on winning baseball is a bit troubling. Not terribly surprising, and easily downplayed if you want to, but given the current state of the Red Sox, it’s hard to be immediately optimistic. Rebuilding the Red Sox from the disaster of 2012 is not going to be easy, and I’d have more faith in ownership and management if I trusted they were focused properly on winning.
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1. Jose Can Still Seabiscuit Posted: January 16, 2013 at 10:50 AM (#4348053)Maybe I'm just too much of an optimist but I don't see this as being particularly troubling. I think every ownership group has a desire to be appealing to the mass market and certainly Werner is going to be predisposed to view things through the prism of TV ratings.
Additionally, I think it's worth noting that this ownership group's greatest success was built on incredibly TV rating friendly teams. Those 2003-2005 teams had a bunch of characters in every sense of the word so I think it's easy to see a scenario where they convince themselves that it's a good baseball move to bring in characters.
But the reports are not just that ownership cares about ratings, but they pushed this marketing mostly-crap in meetings with their baseball ops and management teams. To a degree that rather pissed off the folks trying to build a winning ballclub. That suggests a level of focus on synergy, market penetration, and proactive jabberwocky that risks conflict with a focus on winning ballgames.
And given how difficult the project of rebuilding the Sox remains - 84 wins this year I can see, 94 wins next year is going to be a bear - I'd rather not be reading about stuff like this.
I thought they made a conscious move to shift the team away from eccentric characters. Or are you suggesting that after that ran its course, they tried to go back to the 'idiots' style team? I don't really think Crawford and the religious Gonzalez fit that narrative.
It would be nice but I'm not too worried about. I really think, and again this maybe unfounded optimism, that 2012 and the Bobby Valentine experience will turn out to be a long term positive. Unless these guys are much stupider than I think they are I suspect they may have learned their lessons about building a team that wins the off-season. I think the way they've handled this off-season, while not an off-season I love, is stylistically indicative of a team trying to be smart. The sexy move would have been trading Bogaerts and Barnes for Justin Upton but that may not have been the right move.
And I agree about the 2004 stuff. I think it will be interesting to contrast how it is written with The Yankee Years. One of the things I didn't like about that book is it was written in the third person which really took away from the feeling that it was Joe Torre's story. If this book is written in the first person at least I can assume the words are Francona's.
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I'm taking the optimistic view on the Francona/CHB book. Rather than believe there's no way CHB doesn't sully Francona's story, I think there's no way Francona allows CHB to do that. Of anyone, Francona is most adept at finding the right way to convey his message so as not to throw anyone under the bus. If CHB tries, the book doesn't go to press with Francona's name on it.
"The other day a couple of suits came up to me and wanted me to endorse the Canyonero. I told them to get lost. But it turns out that it's a pretty nice ride..."
You like Tito. But come on, he's laying down with dogs and, as much as he tries to obscure it, it's not hard to figure out why.
Did I know that and just forgot?
Part of The Yankee Years yes, but a tiny part. I suspect, overall, the books will be very similar.
The Red Sox did have one of the few recent players who was perceived as a sex symbol without being perceived as a good player, in Gabe Kapler.
Although they could afford to have a guy like that in 2003-2006. They'd have to put the entire cast of "Magic Mike" in the lineup to overcome the current fan-uninspiring situation of the team not being good.
Now look at us.
also he insinuates that pedroia isn't any good, which is, of course, not true.
I've got money on Beckett, Lackey, and Papelbon.
1. Very simply it's a book worth reading. My fandom for Tito is pretty well established and the reasons why shine through. Tito is honest, funny and forthright throughout the book. He takes blame where he should and other times blames others. I never got the sense that Francona was blaming everyone else and painting himself in the best light. Of course Tito comes across well but he wasn't afraid to acknowledge his mistakes. The note I made to myself as I read the book was that Francona was being "cautiously candid." There is a lot of good insight in the book but if you are looking for salacious details you will be disappointed. The book is largely positive but honest. It's clear that Francona views the clubhouse as sacrosanct.
2. My concern that the book was written in the third person was somewhat unfounded. Francona is quoted much more than I remember Torre being quote in "The Yankee Years" so the words are more often obviously his own. When it's Shaughnessy being Shaughnessy it is obvious and Shaughnessy's evident disdain for certain people (notably Theo and Bill James and his ilk) comes through.
3. I get the sense that Francona respects and maybe even likes Lucchino but is not a fan of Henry's at all. Reading the book it makes sense. Francona notes that Lucchino is someone you can argue with while Henry's less confrontational style seems to come across as unmanly to Francona (not that Tito used that word or anything close to it, just my interpretation). Werner seems to be greatly disrespected by Francona largely as a non-baseball person.
4. Tito is very positive about a lot of players, most of the usual suspects including Lowell, Lester and Pedroia but also is positive about Drew and to a somewhat lesser extent Lackey. On the flip side Manny comes across as being a serious pain in the ass. Tito states flat out that he does not believe that Manny quit in his infamous 3 pitch K versus Mariano. He also speaks positively about Ellsbury which I found a bit surprising.
5. Francona appreciated the information that "Carmine" provided. What frustrated him was the lineup consultants who would tell Tito what to do with the info. He liked the idea of getting the information but didn't want to be told how to incorporate it. I'm not sure I'm explaining it well but it seemed like a really good balance of "beer and tacos."
6. Shaughnessy's stuff is a bit more frustrating. It's really jarring what a little ##### he can be when compared with Francona's more mature approach considering that Tito was the one who got fired and slandered by the Globe. Shaughnessy references his Lucchino column of October 30, 2005 but does not acknowledge that it's his article ("a Globe article..."). Shaughnessy does note that the Popeye's fried chicken began in 2010 with well-respected Mike Cameron and he also is very clear about the starting pitching, not beer and fried chicken, being the cause of September, 2011. I kind of got the sense that Shaughnessy did not care for Hohler's piece.
Generally I liked the book. There was some good insight and I think it's a nice little primer on how an MLB manager operates. Some of the stupid little #### that the organization did comes through starting as far back as 2004. On the flip side I think Francona respects what they did but felt that sometimes they just went a little too far.
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