In the 18 years since they took control of the franchise, John Henry and Tom Werner have overseen what is arguably the most successful era of Red Sox baseball.
In that stretch of time, the Red Sox ended an interminable 86-year championship drought, and remarkably, have won three more titles since the first one in 2004. Fenway Park, while imperfect and still cramped, is infinitely more enjoyable and cleaner than it was at the end of ownership by the Yawkey Trust, during which time it was sadly allowed to deteriorate.
The owners have been philanthropic via the Red Sox Foundation and have spent freely. For the decade of 2010-2019, no team spent more on player payroll and on their watch, the team has never been lower than fifth in spending in any one season.
So, here is a question that wasn't -- but could well have been -- asked during last Monday's mystifying press conference at jetBlue Park: Given all of this, why is it you remain so profoundly unpopular with the team's fan base?
After all, given the list of accomplishments noted above, you would think they would be toasted as saviors on the local sports scene, properly celebrated for the team's on-field success.
Some perspective: since mid-February 2002, when the group headed by Henry and Werner was awarded control of the Sox, here is a list of other franchises in the top four North American sports that have won as many as four championships in that span:
San Antonio Spurs (4)
New England Patriots (5).
Here, too, is a list of franchises who have won more than four championships:
New England Patriots (5).
(The first Patriots Super Bowl win, accounting for their sixth, took place just before Henry and Werner and Co. officially took over the Sox, and thus, isn't counted here).
That's it. One other has matched, one has surpassed.
And yet, somehow, Henry and Werner have sunk to fourth in the popularity sweepstakes among Boston's four major franchises, behind even the once-dastardly Jeremy Jacobs. (Jacobs has been a largely absentee owner for the 45 years he's owned the Bruins. In that time, his team has won one Stanley Cup and until about a dozen or so years ago, Jacobs seemingly reveled in being one of the NHL's most penurious owners while simultaneously basking in his reputation, in a sport which holds the record for most work stoppages, as one of the game's fiercest labor hawks.).
So, how did we get here? More to the point, how did they did here? How, in short, did these owners manage to forfeit the goodwill that should have come their way?
The answers lie with performances like the one which unfolded last week -- in press conference settings in which Henry and Werner appear tone-deaf when it comes to explaining their decisions to the team's fan base.
Let's take the last three major news stories, covering the last six months, and see how ownership chose to respond to each:
1. The firing of Dave Dombrowski.
Oddly, no press conference was held at all, reportedly on the advice of one of the team's senior media advisers. When this drew criticism from both media and fans, owners responded that they didn't want to publicly denigrate Dombrowski and hinder his efforts to find a job elsewhere.
Several weeks later, Henry and Werner made themselves available in a Fenway Park suite pre-game, while insisting that this was not, in fact, a formal press conference, but rather, an informal gathering to respond to questions from reporters. Oh.
In that media availability, Werner noted that while Dombrowski had done what he was hired to do and had won a World Series, the upcoming challenges for the organization -- rebuilding the minor league system, creating a more sustainable model -- would be better met by a new executive with a different skill set.
It was not explained why that very same explanation couldn't have been offered weeks earlier. By the time it was, the damage had been done.
2. Alex Cora and the Red Sox part ways.
This, too, was badly fumbled. Henry read a long, rambling prepared statement extolling Cora's many virtues and Werner offered more of the same.
But mostly, the two seemed obsessed with making sure that everyone understood that Cora hadn't been, you know, fired fired. Nope, the two sides had "mutually agreed'' that it was time for him to relinquish his role as Red Sox manager. At times, the panel, which included CEO/President Sam Kennedy, interrupted reporters' questions to emphasize this point.
It all seemed so clumsy. Worse, it highlighted a particular obsession repeatedly exhibited by Henry and Werner: the need to be liked.
In their view of things, fans would be irate over the firing of a manager who had guided the team to a triumphant World Series victory only 15 months earlier. So, they felt it necessary to soften the blow of his dismissal.
No, we're not really firing Alex. Because we really, really like him. And even he agreed that it was untenable for him to continue in his current position. So, please, don't be angry with us. Because even Alex agreed that we had to do this. OK? OK??
In reality, even the most ardent Cora backer understood the need to make the move. But by focusing, to comic effect, on the semantics, Henry and Werner demonstrated that they were more concerned public perception rather than doing the right thing for the ballclub.
In so doing, they came off as weak and ineffectual.
3. The trade of Mookie Betts.
This one, unfortunately, picked up right where the last train wreck left off: with Henry reading from a prepared text a rambling discourse on the evils of the reserve clause, his boyhood worship of Stan Musial and why the trading of Betts was unavoidable.
Along the way, there was the unfortunate decision to link Betts with Nomar Garciaparra when, in reality, the only similarities were that they both were drafted and developed by the Sox and were later traded in their final year of team control.
Werner seemed unable or unwilling to answer why it was that the Sox had allowed Dombrowski to go on a spending spree last offseason when ownership knew 1) Betts was inching closer to free agency and 2) the team was intent on getting under the CBT threshold for 2020.
Officially, we still don't know why Betts was traded. We can surmise -- because the owners repeatedly emphasized the point -- that it wasn't linked to re-setting the club's luxury tax rate.
So was it because the Red Sox didn't believe Betts wanted to re-sign in Boston? Or because the owners don't believe in handing out contracts that large? Or that they have a philosophical objection to one player, regardless of his talent, commanding 20 percent of the team's payroll?
Any one of these arguments might have offered some insight into their thought process. Instead, there were platitudes and a reminder that, hey, good seats are still available for the upcoming season.
Sadly, much of the owners' poor PR is the result of self-inflicted damage like the three instances just cited.
Henry and Werner should have an enormous amount of goodwill stockpiled as a result of four Duck Boat parades. They should be able to explain their moves and motives without apology. The occasional unpopular announcement should offer temporary -- not permanent -- damage to the team's public standing.
The legacies of John Henry and Tom Werner should be visible in the team's trophy case, and not, as is too often the case, in awkward, disingenuous press conferences that have become the rule rather than the exception.
The sooner they can solve the disconnect between their real accomplishments and how it is they often present themselves to the fan base, the better off they'll be.
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