It is Thursday afternoon in the visiting clubhouse at Fenway Park, and Terry Francona is contemplating his baseball mortality. Sitting in the manager's office, he is trying to determine how much longer his managerial shelf-life is.
At 63, Francona is not the game's oldest manager. In fact, when the season began, there were five managers older: Tony LaRussa, Dusty Baker, Brian Snitker, Joe Maddon and Buck Showalter. Maddon has since been fired.
For Francona, it's less about his birth certificate than his recent medical history. By his own count, Francona has undergone more than 30 surgeries in his baseball career, including about 10 in recent years, ranging from a hip replacement, to a staph infection in his toe to serious gastrointestinal issues.
Medication has bloated his appearance, and while he walks far easier than a year ago -- when he was confined to a boot following multiple surgeries on his own -- he constantly deals with discomfort. There are some ballparks where egress from the manager's office to the dugout is challenging enough that he strategizes for the series to limit his trips back and forth.
Francona is a baseball lifer, having grown up around the game thanks to his father's playing career. Most days, he's at the ballpark by noon for a 7 p.m. game. The year after he was let go by the Red Sox, he served as an analyst for ESPN, an experience that kept him around the game, but, critically, not in uniform, in the dugout, trying to figure out how to win that night's game.
It's the buzz that competition provides that Francona understands he'll miss the most when his managerial career is complete. And so, he's is trying to figure out if he can live without it, and what he will do with his suddenly free time.
His team, the Cleveland Guardians, offered to give him a contract extension last offseason, but Francona demurred, saying he wanted to see how his body held up this season. He missed all but 14 games in 2020 due to health issues, and last year, missed all but a handful of games in the second half of the season. The Guardians management team has told him to take his time in making a decision.
In preparation, he's begun sounding out others in the game, including Jim Leyland, on how to handle life After the Dugout.
As we spoke Thursday, I reminded him that that night's game could potentially be the last time he manages a game at Fenway, the ballpark he called home from 2004-2011, winning two World Series and advancing to Game 7 of the ALCS another time. Francona is not the sentimental type, and he scoffed at the pending significance.
Here is part of our conversation:
BSJ: What's going into your decision?
Terry Francona: I think most of it's health. To do this job appropriately, you have to have a certain amount of energy. I look back when we were here and I can't believe I spent eight years here. You've got to be young. I look at Alex be-bopping around...This place will wear you out. And that doesn't mean I didn't love my time here; it was a just different part of my career. Shoot man, if I wasn't working for the people I'm working for now, I might already be done. I just love where I work.
I don't know that I'm going to step away this year. I just know that it comes up in my thoughts more than it ever has.
BSJ: What do you envision for yourself in your post-baseball career?
TF: That's what I'm trying to figure out. I don't want to come home and water the flowers. First of all, I'd kill 'em. I've been in baseball my whole life and I love baseball. I've always thought, 'Well, someday I'll go back to the minor leagues.' But then I'm like, if I'm going to do that, I'll stay here (in the dugout). So, I don't know. The year I worked at ESPN was really fun, but I also thought it was a timeout in my career, which I desperately needed. I'm just trying to figure out that it's over, 'How am I going to feel?' And I don't know how to simulate it.
BSJ: How is your health these days?
TF: Somebody told me the other day, 'Man, you look good.' I said, 'No, I think I look less bad than normal.' This (staph infection in my) toe was by far the hardest thing I ever had to deal with. Walking is still uncomfortable, but I can do it, so I have to be careful about what I complain about. In the overall grand scheme of things, the fact that I have two shoes on, it's way more enjoyable than last year. Last year, everything was hard -- getting from the bus to the clubhouse, ugh. I'd have to take off my boot to take a shower. It was miserable. So I'm doing better.
BSJ: How difficult was it being away from the job the last years?
TF: I felt really guilty. That's the hardest part. But I was so beat up that I couldn't do it. It's like when I was a player - I remember as a player, you hear all these stories about when their career is over, and I'm thinking: 'Who's gonna be worse than me? This is all I ever had.' But the day I got released, I went home and I don't even know where my baseball stuff is. I've never seen it again, and I never once missed playing (because I knew I couldn't anymore). I missed the clubhouse, but I didn't miss playing.
BSJ: Is there another role in the game that could satisfy you without being as physically demanding?
TF: That's the thing -- I don't know. As roller-coasterish as it is, like the game the other night (won by the Indians by a run), I don't know where else you get that (excitement). And every game we play is like that. But I don't know where you get that. And I know I would miss (that atmosphere).
BSJ: You do have some grandchildren to keep you occupied.
TF: I know. The coaches were telling me, with (granddaughter) Olivia (seated right next to the visitor's dugout during the series at Fenway), 'We don't see you like that.' I'm giving her gum, baseballs...I turn into a puddle. I was always told, 'When you become a grandfather, it changes you.' I was always, (Expletive) that -- I had four kids.' But it's true. You spoil them rotten.
BSJ: When you get on the bus (after the final game of the Cleveland series here), will there be any thoughts of 'This is the last time I'm in uniform at Fenway?'
TF: I doubt it. And it's not because I didn't love my time here. That's just not how I'm wired. And it wouldn't be my last time anyway. I'm going to watch a game from the Monster Seats when I'm not working. I'm going to have a hot dog and really enjoy it.
BSJ: Has your perspective on your time in Boston changed?
TF: I think it's easier to remember the good, as you get away and forget about the stuff that was a little raw at the time?
BSJ: You'll never have to buy a drink in this town.
TF: I've always heard that -- I don't think that's true! I keep waiting for that. But (the reaction from Boston fans) makes me feel good. It does. We had a couple of people go to work in Philly, and I said, 'Do NOT use my name.'
BSJ: What do you think your legacy as a manager is -- here and elsewhere?
TF: That's not why I did it. I kind of like the journey. Even in 2016, when we lost (in the World Series), that was the most fun journey ever. We had guys who were beat up and we overachieved. I had a ball. The last inning wasn't really great, but I think that was wonderful. I don't want to wait until it's over and think, 'I should have enjoyed that more.' I'm having fun with this team.
BSJ: Is it more rewarding to win as a small-market underdog?
TF: You know what? I haven't figured out how to lose, and just say, 'Well, we have a small payroll.' It still (expletive) kills me. And when we win, I'm happy.
BSJ: What about working in the front office? Would that appeal to you?
TF: I'm not qualified. It's different than it used to be. I don't know. (Being in uniform) is my favorite part. Guys are playing cards in the clubhouse and you can mess with them; I love that. I love where you can curse, and say things that would probably get arrested in any other job, but in here, no one gives a shit about. That's where I'm most comfortable. What that probably means is that I'm probably not ready (to quit). I just think about it more. Does that make sense?
BSJ: What comes to mind first about your time in Boston?
TF: There was something every day. And if there wasn't a fire, someone made one. I don't miss that part of it. But I have fond memories -- players coming into my office. Johnny Damon, (Dustin) Pedroia, (Jonathan) Papelbon...those guys were a crew, but I loved 'em.
BSJ: What about what you achieved here?
TF: I'll say the best way to answer that is what we achieved. I want to make sure I always say that. I got lucky, man. A lot of guys get one job, and then don't get another one. And I know that. I got a second chance with a team that was built to win. I got lucky.''
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Max Scherzer, who turned 38 this past week, is having one of the best seasons of any starter in the game this season. The amazing thing is, there are five starting pitchers older than Scherzer taking regular rotation turns around the game: Kansas City's Zack Greinke, St. Louis's Adam Wainwright, Atlanta's Charlie Morton, Houston's Justin Verlander and Rich Hill of the Red Sox.
I asked Hill what the secret was to that sort of longevity and why pitchers are thriving in their late 30s and early 40s.
"I think it has something to do with experience,'' said Hill. "I think that plays a huge part in it and I think that's something that gets overlooked, and gets overlooked in the game. Economically, you see guys hanging around and teams might say, 'Well, we don't want to pay those guys.' But there's a lot of value to having veteran guys around who can post every fifth day. And also, show the ability to be creative and have pitchability. So where some parts of our game are getting away from pitching and going to just 'throwing,' I think it's important to notice that every single one of those guys are pitchers. Verlander is a power guy, but he still pitches. He just happens to have the ability to throw hard.''
Hill also credits the increased attention paid to sports science, nutrition and conditioning.
"Being able to go to places like Mike Boyle's gym in Woburn and (former Red Sox head athletic trainer) Mike Reinold's Champion Performance has really helped me,'' said Hill. "Building strength and being able to maintain flexibility, as well as being smart about throwing, have been huge. But topping all of that is the mentality. I would bet if you talked to everyone on that list, their mentality is, when they go out there, they go out to compete. They go out to win and they stay focused on the task at hand and don't get caught up in the outcomes.
"I think it helps for younger guys to see that. Leading doesn't have to always be vocal; it can be by example, doing the right thing. How you practice is how you're going to play. And I think that's something that guys can learn at a younger age by seeing that example.''
Finally, Hill wonders if older pitchers, who grew up without the avalanche of data, are more accustomed to competing rather than focused on numbers and analytics, thus allowing them to perform at a higher level for longer.