A Lesbian, a Manager, and a Change of Perspective

Last week, Meredith Baxter, former star of my favorite 1980s sitcom, Family Ties, came out as a lesbian for the first time publicly while on the Today Show. While it wasn’t shocking that the former Mrs. Keaton may have some Sapphic tendencies, it did take a little bit away from my fond Family Ties memories. For all of its “Sha-La-La-La” corniness, Family Ties was the seminal show of my youth, combining a pubescent object of affection (Mallory), a cool, yet unbelievably intelligent older brother (Alex), and parents, who, while flakey, were given enough good storylines and zingers to be taken seriously. The laughs have held up in a way that very few 1980s sitcoms do.

How does Meredith Baxter’s admission change this? Because she has no relevance to me other than her role on Family Ties. Unless you are an avid watcher of Lifetime Channel movies, that’s all you know her from, too. Whenever I saw her, I saw Elyse Keaton, and now all I can see is a flannel shirt wearing, beer drinking, carpet munching, mature lesbian. There is a sense of betrayal because all of the moments I shared with the family are kind of tainted.

The same week of Baxter’s heartbreaking revelation, FCP attended a Q&A with New York Yankees Genneral Manager Brian Cashman. Much of Cashman’s discussion was spent on prior Yankee skipper Joe Torre, including his ouster as manager and the book he co-authored with Sports Illustrated writer Tom Verducci entitled “The Yankee Years”. Cashman was incredibly open through the conversation, but truly let loose when this subject came up. He called the book “garbage” and could not believe he wasn’t interviewed once to discuss his side of the story.

While the Torre book is old news, Cashman’s perspective on it is not. His candid comments have allowed me the opportunity to discuss a book I took issue with upon publication, as it gave me a newly negative perspective of Torre the man and the manager. As a lifelong Yankees fan, nothing will ever take away my fond memories of four World Series wins in five years, but much like the realization that Elyse Keaton is just a character, I’ve come to see Joe Torre’s public persona as much different than the man he was behind the scenes.

I came of age during the lean years of the Yankees of the late 1980s, and then matured with the champions of the late 1990s. I had a vision of Joe Torre that was more myth than reality. Torre played the role of Yankee manager to a tee by playing the media like a fiddle and harvesting his goodwill with the fans. His battles with George Steinbrenner always made it into the papers, and Torre became the underdog who was the only manager who could withstand Steinbrenner’s shots and come back stronger the next day. As his tenure as Yankees manager progressed, his strategic style changed. He sat on his hands more and waited for the three run home run. He also developed allegiances to players and his loyalties became anchors for the Yankees’ offense at times.

Still, I felt remorse for the way Torre’s dismissal was handled. He deserved a better ending to his New York career and while not everyone wanted him back as skipper, most felt he left with his image and dignity intact. But when Torre and Verducci penned “The Yankee Years” my sorrow turned to disbelief. I went through the book quickly and came away seeing Torre as a self centered, bitter man who relied too heavily on his gut and “his guys” while allowing the game to pass him by. He blamed everyone he could on the way out and his true persona was plain to see for those who would allow themselves to see it. Some read the book as gospel truth and used it to indict Cashman for the Yankee “failures” of the 21^st century. He was labeled as a hack who couldn’t win with an astronomical payroll because of his ill advised signings and abandonment of traditional player analysis.

Much of Cashman’s persona in the book is developed by Torre’s comments regarding player assessment and personnel decision making. Torre quibbles with Cashman’s reliance on statistical analysis and lack of loyalty to former Yankees. The Yankees had become reliant on making the free agent splash but little attention was given to the ramifications the signing would bring. Many of these deals were not approved by Torre or Cahsman. Torre specifically cites Jason Giambi’s signing as one he protested immediately, as George Steinbrenner would often blame his staff for bringing in free agent failures when in reality they were Steinbrenner’s call in the first place.

Once Cashman was handed the reins, he tried to overhaul player evaluation and fix the broken Yankee system that Torre so often indicted. While Torre may have seen the need for a new system of choosing players, he did not appreciate the tact Cashman took in implementing those changes. Cashman began seeking statistical evidence of player’s abilities. Torre said in the book, “There was always some information being sent back to Cash that helped him know everything that was going on rather than trusting what the baseball people were doing.” Torre sounds like a doddering fool when he questions Cashman for gathering information. He also shows a great divide between his staff and the new direction of the team. He knew Cashman was especially unhappy with Ron Guidry as pitching coach because his teaching relied mostly on stories from his glory years and less on video breakdown. Cashman’s choice for the job was Joe Kerrigan, who used scouting reports, a slew of print outs, and video tape in preparing for games.

Twice in the book, the reader is reminded of Torre’s favorite reminder to Cashman: “Never forget there is a heartbeat in this game.” Torre may very well have seen this line as a summation of why his way was right and Cashman’s was wrong, but it does nothing but put his ignorance on display.

Torre goes on to list numerous indiscretions by Cashman that all but eroded the trust Torre had in him and told Torre that Cashman didn’t trust him much anymore, either. It became obvious that Cashman didn’t think Torre was the man for the job at hand, but Cashman was well aware of the public relations part of his job and tried to keep Torre on for as long as possible, while still trying to change the way the team choose its players.

Torre looks especially bad because he didn’t have the guts to write an outright biography. He took the easier way out by disclosing secrets and stories to Verducci and allowing him to find a second source to verify and explain it. Former bullpen catcher Mike Borzello, among others, is used to illustrate what Torre sets up for the reader. Torre would have at least earned some respect if he had just owned up to his own opinions and put his name to it as an autobiography.

While Torre used the book to trumpet his accomplishments and belittle those of Cashman and the rest of the front office, Verducci used the book to make himself look like a fool. The book was marketed as being a work of non-fiction, but the professional journalist involved in writing it made zero effort to include any counter point. No one from the Yankees’ front office was ever interviewed for the book, including Brian Cashman who expressed shock that a book called “The Yankee Years” could be written without the input of the general manager of the team.

To further the hatchet job by Verducci and Torre, the book is filled with contradictions. As Torre and Verducci point out the folly in Cashman’s reliance on stats, Verducci spends entire chapters praising Cleveland Indians GM Mark Shapiro and Boston Red Sox GM Theo Epstein for the enacting the exact changes as Cashman was attempting to make in New York. Epstein is celebrated for bringing in statistical minds from Ivy League schools; Cashman is ridiculed for doing the same. Shapiro was lauded for having a program called DiamondView that examines a player from every statistical and psychological angle possible; Cashman was derided for using similar numbers driven assessments. Verducci’s verbal fellatio of the Indians for signing and grooming Fausto Carmona to be able to pitch through a midge attack in the 2007 playoffs is absurd, especially with Carmona’s fall from grace since. Verducci credits DiamondView and the statistical geniuses with the Indians for developing “bona fide big leaguers such as Ben Broussard, Travis Hafner, and Coco Crisp”. There is little mention of the flaws and poor choices made by Shapiro, and there needn’t have been if there wasn’t already a blow by blow account of Cashman’s mistakes while using similar metrics for player evaluation. According to Verducci, the revolution that the Indians led happened “while the Yanks, in a relative sense, slept.” When the Yankees finally awoke and entered the fray, Verducci hangs them for it, as Torre watches with delight.

For example, Cashman wanted to bring in a platoon of Doug Mientkiewicz and Josh Phelps for the 2007 season while Torre wanted to bring Bernie Williams back. Cashman used advanced statistical metrics to defend his position and Torre thought the opposing manager would be more afraid of Bernie on the bench than any of the other choices. While Phelps was a bust and Mientkiewicz missed most of the year with an injury, for the first time the Yankees were using smarter methods of choosing players and were not being slaves to the big name or washed up Yankee great as they had been for so many years of Steinbrenner’s tenure as owner. Verducci was giddy over Epstein’s player personnel choices, especially pointing to the importance of on base percentage. Epstein said he would prefer using “above league average players at getting on base”, which is essentially what Cashman saw in Phelps and Mientkiewicz. He wasn’t yet smart enough to find players like Bill Mueller and David Ortiz as Epstein did, but Cashman should have been congratulated for making that change, even as he struggled to properly implement his new system at first.

Brian Cashman’s tenure has not been the stuff of legends. He has consistently had the largest payroll to work with and, by his own standards, he has failed many more times than he has succeeded. Cashman has also worked under the most demanding and outspoken owner in history, and until he gained control over all personnel decisions, he was saddled with players he didn’t want and a philosophy he could not embrace. The beginning of his new direction for the team coincided with the end of Torre’s time in New York, and it is fair to see why Torre points much of the blame for his demise to a lack of trust between the two. In reality, Torre had forgotten what won him four championships, much like the rest of the front office. His reliance on trust and heart is admirable, but it is also hooey. Torre breaks the trust of many of his players in this book, and while I’m sure Torre has seen heart pay dividends numerous times in his long career, heart doesn’t win championships. The team that has the most talent does. Any resistance he has to Cashman finding other ways to locate the best talent shows a lack of trust in his general manager and points to the game passing him by. While Verducci and Torre can point to some mistakes using this new system in a small sample, it is obvious that at least Verducci sees the merit in such evaluation, just not when the Yankees do it.

My childhood has innocence taken a hit. Mrs. Keaton is a lesbian and Mr. Torre is a douche. I know they are both just actors playing a role on television, but it’s easy to get caught up in the drama when they played their roles so well. Meredith Baxter comes out of her admission as a brave and determined woman, while Torre comes out looking like an old man seeking the New York limelight one more time. The memories remain, but somehow it’s just not the same.

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