Terry Francona has accomplished plenty in his managerial career, including winning three pennants and two World Series. He's currently third among active managers in career wins and has won Manager of the Year on three occasions. He's guided teams to 90+-win seasons 12 times in his career and taken his teams to the postseason 11 times.
His resume speaks for itself and needs little further embellishment.
And yet, there's another aspect of his career that is equally impressive. No fewer than seven current major league managers -- or, very nearly one of every four -- played for Francona during his eight years in Boston. Surely, some of Francona's influence and style follow them to this day. Some, in fact, may have been inspired to try managing because of Francona.
The list: Kevin Cash (Tampa Bay), Alex Cora (Red Sox), Rocco Baldelli (Minnesota), Dave Roberts (Los Angeles), Gabe Kapler (San Francisco), David Ross (Chicago Cubs) and Mark Kotsay (Oakland). Undoubtedly, there will be others whom he managed in Cleveland who will go on to manage, too, and Torey Lovullo (Arizona) played for Francona during his first stop in Philadelphia.
For whatever reason, such "coaching trees" get a lot more attention in the NFL. The list of Bill Parcells' disciples -- either former players or one-time assistant coaches -- is legendary and is often cited as further evidence of Parcells' contributions to the game. There's far less focus on managers who have had a similar impact
Typically, Francona downplays this achievement, the way he does with all others, but there's an element of pride in his voice when he talks about those who have followed his path to the dugout.
"You try to learn from everybody, but then, you have to be true to yourself,'' said Francona. "I have a feeling that group of guys you're talking about learned that quickly. I watch Cora, he's got his personality and the way he does things. I don't know if you asked him if he learned it from me...I hope they did because you want to be a good manager to guys. But I think they learned quickly, you've got to be true to yourself.
"I remember Cora was taking (grief) after one game in LA (during the 2018 World Series) and I texted him and said, 'You (expletive) stuck to what you thought was right; I'm so proud of you.' And when Cashy took out (Blake Snell in the 2020 World Series), I said, 'I love the way you handled it when it was over.' You move on. They're all great in their own way.''
Predictably, he dodges credit for the careers of others.
"I think I'm probably lucky because it means I was around some really good people,'' said Francona. "I think it's more than what it is. I know I've said this before - I set the record for being around good people. I honestly believe that. I know I'm a lifer, and half a dumb-ass. I just really like baseball.''
It speaks volumes about Francona's relationship with people in the game that when he speaks of that, it's half in admiration and half trash talk. When he references Cash, he can't wait to add his usual dig: "I remember telling him when he was a player, 'I'd rather have you as a coach.''
Having first managed in 1997, he's now been in the dugout almost a quarter of a century. He's seen the job evolve considerably in that span.
"You know what's really a little hard?'' said Francona. "There's so many coaches now and you don't talk to the players as much because you don't want to overwhelm them. If I have a message I want to give, sometimes I think, 'Damnit, they've already got it...three times!' So you find yourself talking to the players less. We have three hitting coaches, three pitching coaches. There's a lot of people around -- mental skills, people from Baseball Ops...''
There's also a huge growth in data and information available that can overwhelm a young manager and Francona warns those who ask for advice prior to interviews to be careful how they present themselves.
"I've told guys and said, 'Hey, don't perjure yourself. Because if you tell somebody something in an interview, then you have to live up to it.' '' said Francona. "I know you want the job, but you have to be yourself. Otherwise it's not going to last very long and you're going to be miserable because you're trying to be somebody you don't want to be. And that's good for everybody.''
Francona, meanwhile, is the living embodiment of authenticity. And being himself will likely result in him one day being enshrined in Cooperstown, a ceremony that will doubtless be witnessed by his many proteges.
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Baseball is no different than any other sport. Teams love to copy what's successful elsewhere, and this year, that applies to a "new" pitch that, as it turns out, isn't very new at all.
You'll hear plenty of talk about pitchers throwing a "sweeper.'' It even shows up on MLB's GameDay app in describing a pitch.
In truth, the sweeper is really not much different than the "slurve'' -a hybrid of the slider and curve -- that's been thrown for years. But again, because people copy what's been successful elsewhere, it seems like a new revelation.
"It's really not new at all,'' chuckled pitching coach Dave Bush. "We just have a new name for it. By pitch shape, it's not new, but it's more prevalent now. We see that a lot with pitches in the game. When somebody does something that's successful or seems new or is more common than it used to be, it gets a lot more attention and with things that are successful, oftentimes we chase what works.
"We're always looking for different ways to do things. In this case, it was the shape of a pitch that wasn't super common that some guys had some success with. It was written about, people became more aware, we track stuff so much more than we used to and people look around and think, 'Gee, maybe we can teach this to some of our guys.' ''
There's little consensus about who first used this version of the pitch, or even who named it. Shohei Ohtani was among the pioneers and some have credited him with the pitch's sudden popularity.
"It probably started a year or a year and a half ago,'' said Bush, "and kind of quietly, some guys had success with it. It takes a little while to catch on. With the information that's available to fans, it's so much easier to identify what's happening on the field than it used to be. It used to be that, unless you were really paying close attention, you didn't know that sliders look a little different than they used to be. But now we have information to everyone. It's pretty detailed and pretty accurate. So the awareness for things that are happening is much more than it used to be and that makes things easier to talk about and more common.''
Bush describes the pitch as "a bigger breaking slider than the more traditional smaller ones. The name sounds kinda cool. I think people like saying 'sweeper.' It sounds fun and it looks cool. You see a big sideways breaking ball that gets swings and misses. But I don't really care what we call stuff. If it's effective, then we're going to use it.''
It all comes down to tailoring various pitches for individual pitchers. Whatever works, works. And call it what you want.
"We look at the individual and try to figure out what they can do the best,'' he said. "And if the way your body moves and the way you can spin the ball allows you to make the breaking ball go sideways, then great, you can throw a sweeper.''
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As some of you may have read on Twitter Friday, this weekend makes the end of my stay at BostonSportsJournal.com.
This was not an easy decision for me, but one, ultimately, that I felt I needed to make.
As an original staff member of BSJ, my tenure goes back to the very start, when this site was just an idea in Greg's head. From the beginning, the idea was to provide honest, objective reporting and analysis on the four major Boston pro teams. I'm proud that was accomplished and continues to this day. Some changes have been made to the staff since July of 2017, but the original goal remains.
In the nearly six years I spent at BSJ, I enjoyed complete freedom to write what I wanted. There were no agendas, no direction, no marching orders. Greg allowed me total prerogative to write as I saw fit without interference or oversight. Trust me when I tell you that's not always the case in this business.
I valued that independence and tried to properly utilize it as a gift. I avoided, I hope, "hot takes,'' and never wrote anything simply to get a reaction or attract attention. My intent was to write what I saw, rely on people I know in the game to provide me with their own expert perspective, and to not worry about currying favor or carrying out a vendetta.
The trajectory of the Red Sox during my stay vacillated greatly since 2017, from a division title to a world championship to a third-place finish, to a last-place finish, to a trip to the ALCS to another late-place finish. The Red Sox were good, great, OK, horrible, very good and horrible again. That range of outcomes ensured that, no matter what, the Red Sox were never uninteresting. Together, we experienced the highs and lows and in-betweens that a stretch of seasons provide. Thank you for being along for the ride.
I've covered the Red Sox for a variety of outlets since I started on the baseball beat in 1989 - two newspapers, a regional sports TV network and an all-sports digital site. But in 35 years of covering the Sox, the relationships I was able to forge with BSJ readership were unique.
The social media world, as many of you can attest, can be a toxic one. Twitter is full of angry, mean-spirited misanthropes who would find fault with someone who found the cure for cancer (Whaddya gonna do about the other diseases??? Don't you care about those people??). It's a race to the bottom.
Thankfully, that same environment never got a foothold at BSJ, and for that, subscribers should feel proud.
We invited your input, because we wanted you to feel part of the enterprise. We valued your thoughts, your complaints, and your points of view. We encouraged debate and an exchange of ideas, and what do you know -- you took us on our invitation.
Readers could take issue with what staff members wrote, but remarkably, did so in a rational, respectful way. There was no name-calling, no irate rants, no unhinged diatribes. Instead, what took place was a good old-fashioned sports debate, the kind that seems almost extinct on many platforms.
I've had various theories as to why that sort of rational and even-keeled debate became the norm here, and best I could figure, it had something to do with the fact that you were paid subscribers and thus, had an investment -- quite literally -- in having the product be something of which you could be proud. It's the difference, I guess, between using or borrowing something rather than owning it. You spent your money -- and for that, we thank you -- and in turn, expected something in return.
The respect worked both ways, I'd like to think, and out of it, there was a sense of community.
I never had to hold my breath, or cover my eyes when I went to read the comments on stories on columns I produced -- which doesn't mean you always endorsed what I wrote. Nor should you have. As writers, we shouldn't expect readers to provide affirmation or serve as echo chambers. But I always knew that everything would be free of rancor or insult. And for that, I'm thankful.
One more thing about money: It's not my job to tell you how to spend it, but I would hope that you continue to support BSJ as you have. Greg, John and Patrick -- and whoever else joins the staff -- will continue to produce quality work on the teams that matter the most to you. In this crowded, competitive sports media marketplace, the level of journalism and analysis here will continue to be worthy of your investment.
Thanks for your support, your input and your kindness.
And I hope I'll see you at the ballpark somewhere down the road.