What I've told some Cubs fans about Joe Maddon

 As I was driving home from a Mavericks game, I realized that Joe Maddon could be the one person able to erase the misery of the last 106 years or so.

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.

We need weekend postseason baseball

Not exactly a news flash: TV ratings for World Series games are down.

My hope is that baseball's new hierarchy under Rob Manfred will not make the mistake of the outgoing commissioner, who figured that what baseball needed to boost interest in the game was more Yankees and Red Sox.

That feeling has led to adding an extra wild card (more chances that both the Yanks and Sox would get into the playoffs) and limiting the bonus money for off-shore player signings (because the teams making hay in Latin America and Asia were not the Yanks and Sox, who despite their millions lagged behind in international scouting).

Sure, Yankees-Red Sox games draw viewers in New England and the Tri-State area. But even -- maybe especially -- baseball fans in the other 90 per cent or so of the population are tired of seeing Yankees-Red Sox on Saturday afternoons, Sunday nights, Monday nights, Wednesday nights, on every network showing baseball.

There are plenty of other interesting teams and players. Hunter Pence and Lorenzo Cain shouldn't have to arrive in the World Series to be recognized more than Jackie Bradley Jr. and Francisco Cervelli.

Aided by a weekly thirst for gambling action, football has capitalized on making itself a national attraction without having to lean on one or two teams (the way baseball does) and a small group of players (see basketball and golf). NFL teams in places like Dallas, New Orleans and even Green Bay can gain a national following and recognition. And if the Chargers can cover against the Broncos, that can make bettors from coast to coast happy on any given Sunday (or Monday or Thursday).

Baseball's ratings problem isn't entirely that the games are on too long and too late, though those are factors. I watched just part of Game 4 Saturday -- the part that went something like this: pitching change, several minutes of commercials, another pitching change, several more minutes of commercials, another pitching change and I think more commercials. But even I had lost interest in the non-game by then.

It hasn't helped that all but one of the first six games has turned into a blowout.

The real problem has not been inaction during the games, but 1. inaction of any kind after the first rounds were sweeps or near-sweeps and 2. baseball's fear of going up against football.

Baseball has all but abdicated the weekend to pro football, college football and even high school football in some areas of the country.

Wouldn't it make sense to set up the World Series so there's at least the possibility so it could go over two weekends -- when more people could watch, or at least choose to watch either baseball or football? Or both, with a remote. Games could even be played -- God forbid! -- during the day so young, budding fans could watch. (Of course, today parents could record the night games so their children could watch while they're awake. I know, I know, advertisers. But for the future of baseball, what's more important: appeasing today's advertisers, or building a fan base that could attract even more advertisers in the future? I see the current approach as a result of the used-car-sale mentality of the recent regime.)

It didn't work so well this year to set up the schedule so there would be two weekends of League Championship Series. With each series ending early, there was no second weekend. And no baseball for so long that a pitcher who won the last game of a Championship Series could also start World Series Game 1.

The Chicago Tribune article linked above pointed out how bad the ratings were for Game 1.

Why wouldn't those have been bad? By the time baseball got around to playing again, on a Wednesday night, casual fans probably had forgotten there was even a baseball postseason still going.

Because of the lengthy delay between the two series, there was no baseball on Friday night (traditionally high school football night), Saturday (college football), Sunday (pro football), Monday (more pros).

Wouldn't it make more sense, if you're going to have a possible five-day layoff, to have that lag occur during the week rather than on a weekend abdicated to baseball's perceived enemy: football?

Schedule the Championship Series Games 6 and 7 for midweek, say Wednesday-Thursday. That way, if those series ended early, those games would be on a weekend. The more exciting Games 6 and 7, when at least one World Series competitor could be crowded, would generate more interest, especially as virtually the only games in town.

Those climactic games could create a couple of days of buzz for the World Series beginning Saturday. Because college and pro football go on all day on the weekend, it still would be possible to play one game each weekend during the day.

World Series Games 3, 4 and 5 -- two of which could be the final game -- on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday -- would keep baseball alive while football was dormant. And those baseball games could set the stage for weekend Games 6 and 7 on the weekend.

To Rob Manfred and baseball: Stop dodging football. Take it on during the time when more people can watch television.