RMJ 121 June 16

MONDAY, JUNE 16 ● Kansas City, vs Royals

Our first impression of Kansas City is the Ritz Carlton and the Plaza Neighborhood. For some reason, I did not preconceive this city to be charming, but that is the first word that comes to mind. Charming, cosmopolitan, stylish — all words I did not expect to use.

Maybe I have spent too much time in downtown St Louis. Maybe I expected earthy, honest, and traditional. Maybe that is how I perceived the entire Midwest.

This neighborhood in Kansas City is up-to-date, in a retro-trendy kind of way. I’ll just say it’s a lot more interesting than St Louis — the Gateway Arch notwithstanding.

We had lunch at a sidewalk café. The food wasn’t up to expectations, but we enjoyed the passing parade. Judy took off on a sightseeing tour. She loves to explore new places by herself. I went back to the room, to work on scouting reports.

We took a cab to the ballpark at 2:00. The cabbie told us there was high water between the hotel and the stadium, so he would have to take us a roundabout way. This I perceived to be a bunch of bullshit. And when we took the bus home after the game, my notion was confirmed. This sort of sophistication goes beyond urbane and into the realm of urban decay.

At least he told us he was going the long way. In New York, they just do it.

           

Kauffman Stadium is a delight. The clubhouse is commodious, and the manager’s quarters ample. The only thing that betrays the 25 years of its existence is the shower stall. The nozzle must have been designed for short guys like Earl Weaver — or some other Earl from centuries past. The spray hit me in the chest.

That was the end. Let me start at the beginning of this most pregnant day of baseball.

 

I addressed the team before batting practice. I asked them to gather around, but Derek chose to sit in his locker behind me. I started by saying that though I wanted them to think for themselves, it was not acceptable to ignore signs because you think you have a better idea. I mentioned the situation where Derek did not run on the 3-1 count, but I did not name him as the culprit.

I also reiterated my position that we should get a good lead and a good jump on 3-1 and 3-2 pitches and on hit-and-run plays. I felt like I was staring at mostly blank faces, but I saw some signs of approval.

Oddly enough, Thomas Howard was nodding yes as I spoke. One thing I have learned is that you can’t judge a ballplayer by his outward demeanor. It’s the book-by-its-cover adage.

I recall players insinuating that young Willie McCovey was lazy, because he didn’t seem to hustle. He just moseyed along — for 25 years — playing day-after-day on his way to the Hall of Fame. By the time he retired, he was a role model. The last word anyone would have used to describe him was lazy.

Anyway, I am still perplexed by Howard. Sometimes it seems he doesn’t give a damn — like he’s a mercenary ballplayer, a hired gun. Other times, it seems he is a confident and determined ballplayer: a guy who doesn’t bullshit, but lets his bat do the talking. When I do spend some time with him, he seems intelligent and dedicated.

As my speech went on, I meandered into the part about improving our fundamentals by doing short practice sessions before batting practice at home. Gerry was standing in the back of the room. The players were caught between us.

I asked them what they thought, but they didn’t — couldn’t — say much.

           

When we broke into groups, I went with the pitchers and catchers, because I wanted to make sure Vern mentioned that Jose Offerman and Jeff King were swinging hot bats. I also wanted him to mention the running game that the Royals employ. After speaking with him, I went back to the position-players meeting, and joined it in progress.

Seems Derek took charge, and he was in mid-diatribe. What he said made almost no sense at all. There was a common thread, however: we should have a set lineup. The rest of it was the incoherent ramblings of a chastised child. At least that’s the way I took it.

If I hadn’t mentioned not running on the 3-1 pitch, I don’t think he would have spoken. But I’m glad he did. The other players didn’t pay much attention to him. It is not an admirable trait to make excuses when you are not performing. The players favor deeds to words. 

But at least Derek got his emotions out in the open. I’m in favor of venting, and I thanked him for his honesty and asked if anyone else wanted to speak. When no one else came forward, I asked Mac what he thought about a set lineup. He said he favored it. Said it would be good if we could find eight guys who complemented one another. Then he issued a challenge to stick to the fundamentals.

“If we had guys who could bunt, hit-and-run, move runners from second to third, get them home from third with one out, we wouldn’t have to worry about set lineups. We would be winning, and everyone would be happy.

“Take the last road trip, for example. We were 4-4, but if we executed the fundamentals properly, we would have been 6-2 minimum. That’s my concern. Not the lineup. Fundamental hitting.”

“As long as we’re doing this,” Bill said, “I’ve got something to say that has been building up inside me for the last few weeks.” He raised his voice, and his face got red. There was no pretense of hiding the anger.

“I’ve got the ass. I admit it. But I’m tired of guys on this team worrying about what everyone else is doing.

“He can manage,” he said, pointing to me. “We can coach. Derek, you’re the last person that should criticize someone else. You aren’t even doing your own job.

“And that goes for everyone — even if you are doing a good job. It goes for Bidge, Bags, everyone. If you just do your own job and do it well, we won’t have any problems. I know I’m pissed, and I don’t care, because this needs to be said. There are too many guys worried about somebody else. Do your own job. That is all you have to do.

“We have a good club. But we aren’t going to be worth a shit if all we do is worry about everyone else. Do your own damn job. That’s all you have to do.”

There was a brief pause. Then he continued, “Okay, let’s go over the outfield positioning. Offerman: Play him shallow and slightly to the off field … ”

I was so grateful to Bill for showing this emotion, and for saying what I should have said myself. He is normally a stoic guy, and when he went off, he really got everyone’s attention.

It didn’t seem to carry over into the game.  We failed to get Biggio over to third after his leadoff double, failed to get him in. Later, we fouled up a big inning with bad baserunning. Then we gave them a four-run seventh when we did not have the range at shortstop and in center to make the plays that could have held them scoreless.

These were not misplays; they were evidence of a structural weakness that we identified in spring training. We simply do not have a good defensive centerfielder or shortstop. It is hard to pitch around those two positions — especially when third base is a little shaky too.

I had another case of bullheadedness in the seventh when I brought Russ Springer in to pitch, with men on first and third and on out.

“Don’t worry about Goodwin,” I said. “We are not going to throw through. Don’t worry about the runner at third. If he scores, we’re still tied. Just blow these next two guys away. Blow it by them. You’re the man for the job. Strike them out. Pop them up. If they hit a fly ball and the run scores, so be it. But if you get the next two hitters, the worst thing that could happen is that we will be tied up.”

In my mind, these were specific instructions to try to throw fastballs by Jay Bell and Jeff King. It might not have worked, but I’ll never know.

Brad Ausmus had a “better” idea. He wanted to trick them by throwing cut fastballs and curve balls away from the hitters. Springer followed his catcher, right down the primrose path. He walked Bell and fell behind King. Then he had to throw King fastballs, and he nearly got the third strike by him, but Brad couldn’t hold the foul tip.

On the next pitch, King doubled to center. The ball should have been caught for a sacrifice fly, but James Mouton turned the wrong way. Two runs scored. Springer walked Chili Davis. Tom Martin came in and gave up a single to Johnny Damon. We lost 5-2. 

Talk is cheap. But I plan to do a little more of it tomorrow. This time it will not be meetings, but individual chat sessions with Springer and Ausmus.