Managing the media
An inside look at one of the unappreciated challenges some big league skippers face on a daily basis
If you asked all 30 major league managers what the toughest part of their job is, you’d get a variety of answers, but my guess is very few—if any—would begin by mentioning dealing with the media on a daily basis.
Is it their favorite part of the job? Probably not. But it goes with the territory, and every manager understands what he’s signed up for.
Generally, it happens twice a day.
There’s a pre-game session, typically held 2 1/2 or 3 hours before first pitch. It often takes place in the dugout. Some managers like to do it in their office. This was a more common practice many years ago, when relationships were more personal and friendly, less straight-business than they are in most places today. Sometimes it’s done in an interview room, particularly in markets with a larger press corps.
Before the game, managers will usually start with any news of the day. They’ll comment on roster moves or offer updates on injured players. The manager might be asked by the TV crew about that night’s pitching match-up or any number of issues related specifically to the upcoming game, the kind of sound bites you’ll see on a TV pre-game show.
“Tonight’s starter struggled against this team last time out. What type of adjustments do you want to see him make facing the same lineup again tonight?”
There’s often a follow-up or 2 about something that happened in the previous game.
Then you have writers working on a particular notebook item or feature who will ask related questions at that time as well.
“When you see a hitter struggling the way ____________ is, how do you decide whether to keep running him out there day after day or maybe giving him a day or 2 off to try to get himself back on track.”
Something like that.
It’s relaxed. It’s painless. It’s easy. And it’s usually over in 10-15 minutes before the manager heads onto the field for batting practice.
Post-game managerial press conferences are entirely different. 99 percent of the time, the content in those sessions is entirely related to the game that just wrapped up 10 minutes earlier. The mood can be light and fun after a hot team earns an easy victory. And it can be almost funereal after another in a string of brutal losses in a season that is slipping away.
It’s almost like theater, with everyone playing a role.
The stern-faced manager, enters with a fast-walking team PR official. He walks to the front of the room and takes his place before the microphones and recording devices.
Once eye contact is made, and everyone is confirmed to be ready, the TV reporter takes a deep breath then somberly asks the first question in hushed tones to get things started. As the manager chooses his words carefully, everyone in the press corps scribbles his words into their notebook or, if recording, simply waits for his or her own turn to somberly ask the next question in hushed tones.
This goes on for 5-10 minutes. When it’s clear there’s nothing left to say. The manager rises and departs the room, as members of the media staidly make their way into the clubhouse to talk with a few players.
It’s this type of post-game press conference we’ve seen Marlins managers give a lot in recent years.
Now we’re watching as rookie boss Skip Schumaker is indoctrinated in the opening months of 2023 into what Don Mattingly endured for the better part of the last 7 seasons.
And this is, in my opinion, the single most thankless and unappreciated part of what a manager does every day.
How many different times, and how many different ways, could a media member ask Mattingly about why the Marlins kept losing one-run games last year? And how many different times, and how many different ways, could a writer or broadcaster ask about the offense not scoring any runs, or the team wasting a great start from Sandy. What about the ill-timed defensive miscue that cost you runs at a key point in the game or the runner who was picked off to end an inning or the starter who went only 2 2/3 or the bullpen melting down late?
In recent Marlins seasons, we’ve seen these things happen a lot. And we’ve heard managers asked about them a lot.
But if you think about it, these things are rarely actually on the manager. They’re on the players, and they’re on the people who put these players on the roster.
Part of me understands why the same questions have to be asked every single time the same thing happens over the course of a 162-game season. The writer is just doing his or her job.
But at the same time, I often want to scream, “What the *&#% do you want the guy to say?!?! He politely did his best to answer this same question when the guy over there asked it last night. And he knows he’ll have to politely do his best to answer this same question when the woman over there asks it tomorrow night. What do you want him to say that hasn’t been said 48 times already this season?!?!?”
And the reason for my frustration—and something no manager will ever say publicly—is this: While the manager is the person put before the media firing squad twice a day, day after day, virtually none of what he’s forced to explain is his fault.
He can only write out a lineup with the players he’s given. He can only call upon the relievers that have been put in his bullpen.
The heart of your lineup can’t score a man from third with one out in the 8th, and you lose by a run. He’s the guy who has to explain it? You think they don’t talk about situational hitting? How all you need is a fly ball to the outfield to get that man in with fewer than 2 outs? How, with the infield back, a ground ball would have gotten the job done? So the first guy popped to the second baseman and the next guy struck out.
“Hey, Skip, what about the missed opportunity there in the 8th?”
With the number of decisions a manager makes in a ballgame, will he make some calls along the way that deserve being questioned? No doubt. And I’ve never worked with a manager who doesn’t welcome those questions and do his best to answer them in a thoughtful manner.
One thing you learn over the years is they’re making decisions based on information that not everyone sitting in the stands or watching on TV has.
That doesn’t mean the decision is always right. Sometimes they brain cramp. Sometimes they’ll make a decision on which they’ll later acknowledge they’d like to have a do-over.
But what you also understand is making the right decision for the right reasons doesn’t always mean players execute. Does that make the manager wrong?
And sometimes, you make what might be the wrong call, but players bail a manager out. Does that make the manager right?
But when it comes to the same questions about the same failings of a team that get asked repeatedly, just once I’d love to hear a manager say, “That question might best be answered by the general manager who put this roster together.” Or “Why don’t you ask the owner who sets the payroll ever year?”
How about, after being asked about the offensive struggles, someone replies with, “Would we be the lowest scoring team in MLB over the last 6 years, and would you be asking me this question every night if we still had Stanton, Yelich, Ozuna and Realmuto?”
It might not be the best thing for a manager’s job security.
The next time you listen to a manager answer these questions after another tough loss, ask yourself this: “Is he really the best person to answer that? Is he the one who should be held most accountable for the issues upon which he’s been asked to expound?”
I contend the answer is often no. But, in many cases, those most accountable don’t tend to make themselves available on a regular basis.
During my years with the Padres, I was fortunate to work with the late General Manager Kevin Towers. KT was in the clubhouse pre- and post-game every single night. He was on the field pre-game virtually every single night. If anyone had a question, he was there to answer it. In good years and in bad.
There are till some heads of baseball operations who are around and available regularly. Dave Dombrowski, now of the Phillies, is one who comes to mind. But there aren’t nearly as many as there once were.
On his final day as Marlins manager, I told Don Mattingly how much I admired the way he answered every single question that was lobbed his way over the last 7 years. Not once did he lose his temper. Not once did he allow himself to appear exasperated. And not once did he pass the buck.
It’s not easy to do. Especially twice a day, day after day, year after year.
And watching several of Skip Schumaker’s recent post-game media sessions, I think he’s beginning to understand that no matter how gracious and well-intentioned and generous with your time you may be, these sessions aren’t always a lot of fun when people are looking for answers you simply don’t have.
Great piece as always as a diehard baseball fan I often wonder what goes into things behind the scenes that fans don’t get to see thank you so much, sir.