How Joe Girardi outmanaged Terry Francona

Managers, believe it or not, have less influence on a game's outcome than you'd think. Even so, it's still possible for managers to lose jobs based on one bad decision--Grady Little in 2003 may be the most notorious modern example.

This weekend, the Yankees sweeping the Red Sox had, for the most part, less to do with the managers than it does the Yankee offense in game one and starting pitching the rest of the time.

However, there were two clear instances in which Girardi managed (in my mind, anyway) better than Francona--and it may have cost Terry Francona both games.

1) Friday

Scoreless ties are both easy and hard to manage.

The easy part is that you can just let your starter pitch, at least into the seventh inning.

The hard part comes when the scoreless tie goes into extra innings. Which relievers do you use? Do you go by conventional baseball wisdom, in which you pitch your closer at home but not on the road? How much faith do you have in your offense?

Once the game reached the bottom of the ninth inning, Francona and Girardi employed two distinct strategies:

Joe Girardi used his relievers as long as it was reasonable to do so. Mariano Rivera pitched the ninth--conventional wisdom at work here--, but Girardi didn't push him for the 10th. Instead, Girardi called on long man Alfredo Aceves who was spectacular for three innings. Given that Aceves has been sore of late, even three innings may have been pushing it a tad, and there was no question of a fourth, so Girardi went next to Brian Bruney. Bruney has struggled of late, but on Friday night he was stellar in the first inning so Girardi brought him out for a nail-biting second. Coke was used in the top of the fifteenth, and all told the Yankees managed to stay away from David Robertson, Mark Melancon and did not overuse Phil Hughes.

Terry Francona decided, instead of using his relievers for multiple innings, used more for shorter stints. For the relievers like Hideki Okajima and Daniel Bard, this might not have been a bad thing--they are, after all, short relievers, but it did mean that more relievers had to be used--and the Red Sox, apparently, don't have a true long man in their bullpen. It meant that in the fifteenth inning Junichi Tazawa was making his Major League debut in a spot where he was probably destined to fail. A starter, in the fifteenth inning, at Yankee Stadium...ycch.

Does this have more to do with bullpen construction--Girardi had Aceves, Francona didn't--or how the two managed? In this case, the most likely explanation is that the former led to the latter. The game was, after all, important enough for Francona to use Papelbon while the game was still tied, which goes against the grain of conventional wisdom.

Still, one has to wonder if it would have been possible for any of Boston's other relievers to pitch even just an extra out or two--and thus not have to resort to the last man in the bullpen.


2) The second instance came in last night's game. Twofold.

A: Joe Girardi used Phil Coke for two reasons:

1) Phil Hughes had pitched four games out of five. This has less to do with total innings pitched or pitches thrown than it does the process of getting into a game--getting hot, as it's called--is exertion itself. Even the great Mariano doesn't pitch five games out of six, except in the postseason.

2) If the game--a one run game at the time went into extra innings, the Yankees needed to save the pitchers, like Chad Gaudin, that could pitch multiple innings, and as long as the game was close, Mariano Rivera was probably going to pitch the ninth.


The two-run home run to Victor Martinez stung for a number of reasons, but Coke, the lefty, would be who you want pitching to Martinez, who has far better numbers against righties.

After the home run, it should be remembered, Coke did induce a double play to end the inning.


B: In the bottom of the inning, Daniel Bard got two quick outs for Boston, and then gave up the solo home run to Johnny Damon. After Damon's home run, then, one has to consider why Francona did not bring in Okajima to pitch to Mark Teixeira. Okajima--along with Papelbon--had been warming in the bullpen, and it may have made some sense to have Teixeira batting from the other side.

It could, of course, simply be that the events unfolded too fast for Francona to think about it much, but then Francona still left Bard in to face Rodriguez and Posada--who both reached base. At that point Francona went to Okajima, but it could be argued that by then the damage had done.

Of course, some of the blame here should be on the relievers themselves. Bard and Okajima didn't get the job done and spotted the Yankees four runs and a bat-around inning all after two outs.



This is not to say that Girardi has not made bad decisions, or that it's not a heck of a lot easier to manage when your team is winning, but these moments stand out.

There's a much different feeling in NY this morning if it's a 2-2 split and not a 4-0 sweep.

Hey Now, You're an All Star, Get Your Game On, Go Play!

When I woke up this morning, I actually wondered for a few minutes if it had all been a dream.

All Star games aren't supposed to be like that.

Exhibition games aren't supposed to be emotional; they're not supposed to run to the fifteenth inning and they're certainly not supposed to have drama more befitting an October night.

This one, though...

This one was different.

This one, if we pursue the Yankee Stadium :: Cathedral of Baseball metaphor, was supposed to be like the Easter Service at St. Patrick's, and it wasn't just that, but it was the Easter Service at St. Patrick's with the Pope himself leading the festivities.

The pregame ceremonies were emotional on their own; but from the point of view of a Yankees fan, there was nothing more chilling than watching the first pitch, and seeing Reggie Jackson pitch to Alex Rodriguez, Whitey Ford to Derek Jeter, Yogi Berra to Joe Girardi and Goose Gossage to Mariano Rivera.

I don't know how many of you caught it, but it was hitter to hitter, leader to leader, catcher to catcher and reliever to reliever, all of them, the past to the present.

I mean, it even made George Steinbrenner cry, and I'm under the impression that it takes some doing to accomplish that.


The game itself was perhaps one of the best All Star games to have ever been played. Had it ended in the ninth or tenth, and not gone on the extra six innings, we would probably be considering it THE best All Star game, ever.

It felt like a classic October game, with the National League taking a 2-0 lead into the seventh inning, before the ghosts came alive again. I guess it's something about the ghosts--they only come to call in the late innings--and it must have pained them somewhat that the man of the hour, J.D. Drew, wears a Red Sox uniform.

While many Yankees fans were able to cater to their sense of Schadenfreude* in the eighth inning, mocking Jonathan Papelbon with chants of "Mar-i-ano" and "over-rated", the beauty of the entire thing was that the American League was able to tie the game again in the bottom of the inning, rendering the run off of Papelbon irrelevant.

The best moment for Yankees fans, however, had to have been watching Mariano Rivera's entrance in the ninth, followed immediately by a strike out, throw-em-out double play. There's not much more Rivera can add to his resumè, but as 2007 was Alex Rodriguez's year, 2008 has got to be Mariano Rivera's.

Throughout the entire evening, Terry Francona was a model of class.

Say what you want about the Red Sox as a team, or anything you want about the Red Sox players, but Terry Francona should have earned everyone's respect last night. He pulled Jeter and Rodriguez in mid-inning situations so the crowd could applaud, and he let did a similar service by having Mariano Rivera come in the ninth for the last two outs. It's not his fault the AL wasn't leading at the time, and Rivera couldn't get the save.


The game last night was something special. It didn't end at the best possible moment (from a Yankee fan's point of view), but it did end just before it would have turned into a nightmare for Francona and Clint Hurdle.

This is one All Star Game we'll remember for a while, and it's only fitting it happened in Yankee Stadium.

Or maybe it's the other way around.



*Shadenfreude, n, ger. The joy one takes in another's misery.


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A few weeks ago, a Red Sox fan with tickets to last night's game asked me if he could do a write up about his experience at the game. I'm not sure when it will be up, but look for it in the next few days.