He could make the Cubs winners because that's what he did with the Rays.
He didn't do it all by himself. He came along with a management that had a clue without thinking it knew everything. It was an enlightened management that realized you didn't have to give everyone the highest salary of anybody at his position if you treated the players well.
With Maddon running the team, the Rays were able to find players who were better than even they knew.
The last step was for Maddon to convince the players that they could win. It took a few years.
The situation he'll have in Chicago isn't a whole lot different from what he had in the AL East. But the Cardinals and Pirates are hardly as entrenched as the Yankees and Red Sox, nor do they receive the benefits that the New York and Boston teams did from baseball's hierarchy and the media.
So it might take Maddon two years to do what he did in three for the Rays.
If he uses his tenure there as the template, he'll spend the first year convincing players it's possible for them to win as a group. He'll be firm but positive with the players. He'll get them working together without cliques in the locker room.
In the second year, he'll take aim at the Cardinals. There will be a game when the Cardinals throw at a Cub, and the Chicago pitcher will come back to take out Yadier Molina or some other key player. Or maybe a minor character. With the Rays, he did it with utility infielder Elliot Johnson taking out Yankees catcher Francisco Cervelli. In spring training. The uproar at the time from New York was deafening. Who were they to do that to the Yankees?
But at a time when another AL East manager told me his team was afraid of the Yankees -- and I observed that the Rangers seemed the same way -- the Rays had no fear of the Yanks.
I heard Maddon in his farewell press conference saying how great a contribution Elliot Johnson made to the Rays' success.
By the third year, here's how the Rays as a team showed me they were together from the top of the organization to the bottom. When they'd come to Texas in '09 or '10, it seemed that the music in the clubhouse was almost always a song called "Low" by Flo Rida. Kind of a hip hop song. The younger players -- most of them were young -- and the black players liked the music. But there in the clubhouse, singing along with the lyrics, would be 38-39-40-year-old Troy Percival. I never heard Maddon singing it, but I'm sure he approved.
Joe Maddon is my favorite major league manager to deal with. That's the case with most of the people who come in contact with him. He is one of the most genuinely interesting and interested people I've been around. He can carry on a conversation on just about any topic without coming across as a know-it-all. He knows what he doesn't know, and seems willing to listen to others who might have the answers.
Managers have different reactions to their pre-game and post-game sessions with the media. Some treat it like a visit to the dentist, let's get it over with (Ryne Sandberg). Most tolerate it. Some can be prickly (Ned Yost). Maddon seems to embrace the time. He never seems rushed, he always allows enough time so he doesn't have to tell the writers and broadcasters it's time to go. It begins and ends on its own time, and it's a give and take.
Especially with Ozzie Guillen and Jim Leyland out of managing, Maddon has the most interesting media sessions.
I'm pretty sure he's the same with his players. Always having time and making time for them, and always hearing them out and learning from them.
A story. I was in one of Mike Scioscia's pre-game news gatherings in the dugout before a game a couple of years ago. I'd noticed in the media notes that a couple of players were nearly ready to come off the disabled list. He didn't say anything about them, so I asked about their status. He said something about one player, then he said that the other one, Sean Burnett, would be shut down and would undergo season-ending shoulder surgery. By that time, the clubhouse was closed to the media, but the Angels beat writers arranged to get an interview with Burnett outside the clubhouse. While we were waiting to talk to him, the Angels writers thanked me for asking. I said something about how I just figured it didn't hurt to ask. I don't think Scioscia neglected to tell us on purpose. But I told the writers that because I worked with a lot of visiting managers, there were managers who wouldn't tell you anything, some who would tell you just what they were supposed to say and others who would volunteer information. The writers didn't seem to believe it and asked, "Who volunteers information?" I said, "Maddon." Then they all nodded their heads and understood.
