Latest news with #JoeMaddon
New York Times
06-08-2025
- Sport
- New York Times
Is He Baseball's Most Brilliant Owner, or a Failure?
The Tampa Bay Devil Rays joined the American League as an expansion team in 1998 and immediately became an object of ridicule. Playing in a dingy, depressing stadium in six-color uniforms that could have been pajamas, they finished in last place every season but one for a decade — and next-to-last in the other one. By 2008, though, a former options trader named Stuart Sternberg owned the franchise and had hired a cohort of baseball novices to run it. Sternberg tweaked the colors and shortened the nickname to the Rays. And to the surprise of just about everyone, when his Rays arrived at Yankee Stadium for a doubleheader that September, they led their division. Mike Mussina, a right-handed pitcher who was in the final weeks of a Hall of Fame career, started the first game for the Yankees. Nearly all right-handers are more effective against right-handed hitters, so teams usually prefer to send lefties up to bat against them. But Mussina, who would win 20 games that season, was an anomaly: Righties hit significantly better against him than lefties did. 'Everyone knew it about Mussina — they had the numbers — but nobody had the nerve to do anything different,' Sternberg told me. 'We said: 'Look, this is stupid. We shouldn't be putting lefties up against this guy. He's carving them up.'' The lineup that the Rays' manager, Joe Maddon, sent out to face Mussina included only one left-hander and two switch-hitters. Maddon asked the switch-hitters to bat right-handed. 'I haven't hit right-handed against a righty since I was a kid,' one of them, Ben Zobrist, remembers thinking. 'But my manager thinks it will work, so let's go with it.' When Zobrist, an infielder and outfielder who started in the minors with the Houston Astros, arrived at Tampa Bay, he found a low-budget team willing to consider almost anything that might create a competitive edge. It was as if the Rays had taken Billy Beane's 'moneyball' — a concept introduced to baseball fans through Michael Lewis's 2003 book of that name — and stretched it as far as it would go. 'They were looking for different ways to be better so they could compete against the Yankees and the Red Sox,' Zobrist says. 'That was the approach of the whole organization. 'So what if our names aren't as big as the Yankee names? Why can't we figure out something that hasn't been figured out yet?'' In the fifth inning of that game, Zobrist doubled. Then he scored on a single to put the Rays ahead, 5-0. They won that game, and eventually the division. A month later they advanced to their first World Series. A remarkable run followed. Since April 2008, only two teams, the Yankees and the Dodgers, have won more games. At one point, this poorly supported, low-revenue franchise managed to win 860 games over the course of a decade — that is, it averaged 86 wins a season while playing in the same division as the Yankees, Red Sox and Blue Jays. 'What they do down there, I think, is very special,' says Rocco Baldelli, the Minnesota Twins' manager, who played and coached for the Rays. 'Not just in baseball, but in the world of sports and even business.' Want all of The Times? Subscribe.
Fox Sports
09-07-2025
- Sport
- Fox Sports
2025 MLB All-Star: Building the Best Rays Lineup
While this team struggled in its early days, finishing in last place in the AL East every year from their debut in 1998 through 2007 — a stretch that saw them win 70 games exactly once — everything changed when they exorcised the Devil and became known as just the Rays. Not only did the 2008 Rays finish first in the AL East with a 97-win team, but they vanquished the defending champion Red Sox in the ALCS and made it to the World Series. While the Rays haven't won it all yet, they transitioned from averaging 34 games back of first place in the East over their first 10 years to, over the 17 seasons, making the postseason on nine occasions, and the World Series in two of those years. They've developed their own stars, influenced other front offices and are a consistent force to be reckoned with. Manager: Joe Maddon Yes, Kevin Cash has since passed Joe Maddon as the franchise leader in games managed and career wins, but Maddon was the manager at the time the Rays changed their fortunes, seemingly for good — you don't even get to the Cash era and its successes without Maddon paving the way. The first to post a winning record, to reach the postseason, to get to the World Series, to win manager of the year… Maddon is responsible for basically every positive first besides winning a World Series, but no other Rays' manager has managed that yet, either. Starting pitcher: David Price Price pitched in Detroit, Toronto, Boston and Los Angeles, but he got his start with the Rays and spent half of his career there, too. The 6-foot-5 lefty was a force out of the gate, embarrassing his future franchise, the Red Sox, as a rookie reliever in the ALCS in 2008 with pitches they were incapable of catching up to, and just a few years later as a starter won a Cy Young while leading the AL in ERA. While Price's post-Rays career was excellent, by ERA and WAR, he's also the best pitcher in a surprisingly crowded Rays' history. Reliever/closer: Fernando Rodney Fernando Rodney spent just two of his 17 years in the majors with the Rays, but he packed so much into such a short time. Over 141 innings and 144 games, Rodney logged 85 saves, finished 120 games in total and produced a 202 ERA+ courtesy of a 1.91 ERA. The bulk of that production came from his fantastic 2012, in which Rodney posted a 0.60 mark and finished fifth in the Cy Young vote, giving him nearly a four-win season by WAR. For a starting pitcher, that'd be damn good, but for a reliever it's astounding. Catcher: Dioner Navarro Dioner Navarro was once a top catching prospect, but then his bat didn't fully come along, and he was never a star at pitch framing like some of his low-offense contemporaries were. What Navarro did do well, however, was call a game. His pitch-calling was always mentioned as the reason he stayed behind the plate – even as his bat said to find a spot on the bench. He spent five years behind the dish for the Rays when they first rose to prominence … largely because of the success of their pitching staff. 1B: Carlos Pena A first-round pick of the Rangers, Pena was traded to the Athletics at 24 years old, then to the Tigers, then was released by Detroit and picked up by the Yankees, who released him in time for the Red Sox to come calling. Boston, too, would cut Pena, leaving the then-29-year-old available for the Rays in 2007, right before their — and his — turnaround. Pena would end up sticking with the Rays for five years, and he'd hit 163 homers (second in Rays' history) while posting a .360 on-base percentage (third). His 39 homers in an All-Star 2009 led the AL. 2B: Ben Zobrist Picking one position for Zobrist seems antithetical to who he was as a player: while with the Rays, he played in 1,201 defensive games, with 547 at second base, 404 in the outfield — at all three outfield positions — 229 at shortstop, 20 at DH, 17 at first and four at third. That all adds up to more than 1,201 for a reason, and it's because Zobrist would be switched around repeatedly, as needed, in-game. That he did all of this while hitting .264/.354/.429 over nine seasons explains just how valuable he was to the Rays. 3B: Evan Longoria When Evan Longoria was drafted third-overall in 2006, the Rays never had a winning record, never mind made it to the postseason. He debuted in 2008, batted .272/.343/.531 with 27 homers and won AL Rookie of the Year honors. That playoff-less streak would be snapped the same year — those two items are related. Longoria was the first homegrown star for the Rays who knew nothing of the times before, an impact bat with Gold Glove-defense ended up ranked first in every other offensive category in franchise history … and second in defensive wins, too. SS: Julio Lugo Julio Lugo's .287/.350/.421 line with the Rays might not jump off the page, but you have to remember that the era of the shortstop as a dominant offensive force took a break in the aughts. The loftiest average shortstop OPS from 2003-2006 was .740, and the lowest .718. In that period, Lugo's with the Rays was .770, and he contributed with the glove, too. Despite the short stint — four seasons, two of them partial ones — Lugo ranks in the top-10 in Rays' history for a variety of offensive stats, and was never more productive than in Tampa Bay. OF: Carl Crawford Carl Crawford's post-Tampa Bay career might have focused more on what he didn't accomplish than what he did, but those nine years with the Rays were magic. Crawford started out as a speed-first player at the age of 20, one who would do most of his development in the majors on a four-year-old team stuck in the muck. Two years later he'd blossomed into a genuine All-Star who led the American League in steals and triples on four occasions a piece, hit .301/.344/.461 during his seven-year peak and averaged around five WAR per season in that stretch. OF: B.J. Upton B.J. Upton was drafted second-overall in 2002 by the Rays as a shortstop, but would bounce around the diamond a bit, and find himself in center field long-term. A threat on the bases and, occasionally, a source of home run power, too, Upton's career is an odd one for the Rays in that he hit his peak before the franchise turnaround: his 2007, in which he hit .300/.386/.508 with 50 extra-base hits and 22 steals was his best season at the plate, but he was still worth an average of 3.8 wins per year from 2007-2012. OF: Kevin Kiermaier Kevin Kiermaier's bat flitted between pretty good and a problem, but the glove was always there. One of the best outfield gloves going for the Rays or otherwise, Kiermaier produced an additional 17.5 wins above replacement defensively in his nine full seasons with the Rays. That's first in franchise history ahead of Evan Longoria, and enough to make Kiermaier highly valuable despite a bat that averaged out to, well, average. Kiermaier was one of those outfielders who made it look so easy that sometimes you were not even aware of how special the defense was. DH: Randy Arozarena Randy Arozarena has a bat that defies his size, which made him a fit for the Rays in more ways than one. Despite standing 5-foot-10 and well under 200 pounds, Arozarena hit seven homers in just 23 games in his first stint with the Rays, then another 78 in three seasons and a partial one that followed. His on-base percentage is where his true power lies, as Arozarena wrapped his Rays' tenure with an on-base 90 points higher than his batting average. Despite the brevity of his stint, he's also the leader in being hit by pitches. Painful, but productive. Honorable mentions: Kevin Cash (manager) Blake Snell (starting pitcher) James Shields (starting pitcher) Scott Kazmir (starting pitcher) Jake McGee (reliever/closer) Alex Colome (reliever/closer) Wilson Ramos (catcher) Fred McGriff (1B) Brandon Lowe (2B) Jason Barlett (SS) Willy Adames (SS) Greg Vaughn (DH) Want great stories delivered right to your inbox? Create or log in to your FOX Sports account , and follow leagues, teams and players to receive a personalized newsletter daily! recommended Item 1 of 3 Get more from the Major League Baseball Follow your favorites to get information about games, news and more in this topic
Yahoo
19-06-2025
- Sport
- Yahoo
Joe Maddon Defends Phillies' Rob Thomson's Nick Castellanos Decision
Joe Maddon Defends Phillies' Rob Thomson's Nick Castellanos Decision originally appeared on Athlon Sports. Ahead of the second game against the Miami Marlins, the Philadelphia Phillies lineup came out with a surprise omission. Nick Castellanos, the team's right fielder for the past three years, wasn't in the lineup. He had been benched. Advertisement Before the game, Phillies manager Rob Thomson said Castellanos said something inappropriate when he was pulled late in the game Monday night for a defensive substitution. Castellanos backed up that statement and moved forward past it. But, there were still a lot of Phillies fans irate at Thomson for benching Castellanos. The next day, during an appearance on Foul Territory, former MLB manager Joe Maddon defended Thomson's decision to bench Castellanos, emphasizing his enhanced respect for Thomson. "The situation with Rob, he had a choice there. He could've chosen not to say anything at all. He could've just taken what Nick said after the game, called him to the office, yelled at one another, and then figured it out after that. But he made up his mind to do what he did. I do respect what he did, that is, he was honest with the press. He didn't give it any executive talk, and I love that about him." Thomson's decision to bench Castellanos and come forward, not mincing words, was something that stood out to Maddon. He respected Thomson for his integrity in benching Castellanos, because if he had made up a random excuse, then there could've been more backlash. Advertisement It's been a tumultuous ride for the Phillies in 2025, with plenty of ups and downs. The Castellanos situation is another factor that will have an impact this year. Philadelphia Phillies manager Rob Thomson (59) walks off the field against the Arizona Diamondbacks at Citizens Bank Hartline-Imagn Images However, based on how Thomson handled things, it's unlikely to carry over and have a massive impact down the stretch. Being honest with Castellanos and the media is a sign of a good manager. Maddon, someone who has years of experience managing MLB clubs himself, also acknowledged how vital Thomson's handling of the situation was. Managing a team and its diverse personalities is one of the toughest challenges in MLB. While plenty of fans may not have agreed with Thomson's approach, the outcome could have been far worse if he hadn't chosen transparency. Advertisement Maddon's assessment of Thomson's handling is correct; if he had botched this drama, the Phillies' season could have begun spiraling out of control. Related: Phillies' Nick Castellanos Sends Six-Word Message After Rob Thomson Benching Related: Phillies' Nick Castellanos Defended By Wife Jess on Social Media Amid Benching This story was originally reported by Athlon Sports on Jun 19, 2025, where it first appeared.
New York Times
26-04-2025
- Sport
- New York Times
Joe Maddon thinks Major League Baseball has issues. You might find them relatable
Editor's Note: This story is a part of Peak, The Athletic's new desk covering leadership, personal development and success through the lens of sports. Peak aims to connect readers to ideas they can implement in their own personal and professional lives. Follow Peak here. There is no shortage of people who criticize the influence of data and analytics in baseball these days. I knew Joe Maddon had become one of those critics, but I also knew something else: Maddon was the manager of the Tampa Bay Rays when the organization was at the forefront of the analytics revolution in the 2000s. Advertisement That is part of the reason I wanted to talk to Maddon, who also won a World Series with the Chicago Cubs and managed the LA Angels. But there was another reason: I had a hunch that other people feel the same tension — caught between two worlds — in their own professional lives. I know I do. In so many aspects of my life, there is an overwhelming amount of data and information available, from how many people read my stories to how much time I spend on my phone each week. At times, it feels like data dictates too much of my life, or at least influences too many of my decisions. Isn't there value in just doing something because your instinct tells you it's the right decision? In a world full of information, should we still trust our gut and creative impulses? That's what Maddon and I talked about during our conversations over multiple interviews, edited and condensed for clarity. If you're a baseball fan, you'll probably find plenty to argue about. And if you're not a baseball fan, or even much of a sports fan, I hope there are ideas on leadership, creativity and criticism that feel relevant to you. You sent me something you wrote in which you said that your definition of leadership has changed. How? In the past, I always received direction from whoever was in charge, but then I was permitted to go out and do the job as I perceived was the right way to do it. I'll give you an example. When I first started as a bench coach in the mid-90s, there was no pamphlet on how to be a bench coach. I didn't get any direction. The assumption was that I was there to advise the manager on a daily basis, primarily during the course of the game. Before games, I would put together scouting reports and breakdowns. I didn't get any real direction on that either. My point is, when I started doing that, nobody told me what to do. At all. I built all these programs because I felt, if I was a manager, this is what I would want. I was empowered to be the bench coach. I felt free to do my job. I never felt controlled. I felt the exact opposite. Advertisement So what's changed? As a coach, I'm not out there creating my own methods. I'm following the methods that are being given to me, primarily through data and information. Which is good. Because when it comes to data today, it's not just me scouting the other team. Data today combines every play, every pitch, so of course it's going to be accurate. But the point is, all of that stuff is taken from upstairs (the front office) to downstairs (the coaches). There's no leeway to make adjustments anymore based on what you see. When I was with the Angels, Brian Butterfield, my infield coach, would want to make micro-adjustments during a game based on defense, where a hitter might be late on the ball. All of a sudden, the ball is going away from the planned spot. But if he moved the infielders, as an example, after the game he was told: 'Just play the dots.' In other words, coaches became neutered because if you attempted to do that, that was considered going rogue. Just follow the dots. Stop thinking. Stop using your experience. Stop using your sense of feel and what you're seeing. Just follow the dots. Just to make sure I understand what you're saying: You think leaders need to give people information, but then empower them to make their own decisions, not restrict them. Yes. Let me ask you this: Why does this change bother you? Because it neuters your years of work. And it doesn't permit you to react to a situation that you absolutely see as being different. All these numbers are based on large sample sizes, and I understand that. To me, a large sample size is pretty much infallible when it comes down to acquisitions in the offseason. But it is fallible when it comes down to trends in the moment. So when you're talking about how to set my defense on August 15, or how to pitch somebody on August 15, I need something more immediate and not just a large sample size. What is he like right now? Has he changed? Has he lost his confidence, or is he more confident than he's ever been? There are fluctuations with people. That's my problem: It bothers me that coaches, managers, whoever are not permitted to use their years of experience to make adjustments in the moment based on what they see. Advertisement The game tends to be unpredictable, and in a hot moment you have to be able to be creative and flexible when you're actually seeing something. We're talking specifically about your experience with baseball, but I think a lot of people in a lot of different jobs feel this real tension between data and feel or creativity, whatever you want to call it. Agreed. I do a lot of talks about this, and I try to address all of this. It has to be understood that, first of all, I'm into all of this stuff. I want the numbers. I want analytics. I want you to give me stuff in advance. Absolutely I want all of that. But once you've given it to me, you have to understand that this is a fluid exercise. Theory and reality are two completely different worlds. So when theory starts breaking down during the course of a game, then it becomes reality. If it always goes according to script, God bless you, that's wonderful. But that rarely ever happens. So, for me, feel and experience allow you to see things a little bit in advance that maybe someone else can't see or feel. That's where a manager or a coach can make a difference. That's where I'm really trying to explain myself, and I think executives and people in other industries feel the same way. They feel hamstrung. Because they're being controlled as opposed to empowered. Everybody wants information; nobody wants to run away from good information. But you always have to feel the empowerment to remain flexible and make snap decisions when things just don't seem to be going well or right. Because when things get hot, things get quicker and people change. You have to be able to read that in order to make the necessary adjustments based on this moment. And that's what I believe is the gift of experience. Feel is the gift of experience. You shared something with me that you sent to your players when you were the manager in Tampa. You wrote: 'Conventional Wisdom be damned. We are in the process of creating our own little world. Our way of doing things. The Ray Way. To those of you who feel as though this sounds 'corny' wait a couple of years and you will see how corny turns into 'cool,' and everyone stands in line to copy our methods.' What I loved about that, Joe, is that in many ways, you were part of the process with the Rays that created the world that we're in. What do you make of that? The Rays at that time were kind of ahead of the curve. That's when being analytically inclined was in the minority and being old school was in majority. Now the tables have turned. I've always loved that saying, 'corny becomes cool,' because we used to be criticized for the things we did. For example, shifting. The four-man outfield we used. We were criticized heavily for that. They think they know everything! But it's gotten to the point now where it's taken on another life, almost to where it's become an extreme. I like the word balance. I don't like extremism either way, either too conservative or too liberal. I believe I'm a centrist even in the baseball world. I think in my life I am. I want to see both sides. I want to incorporate everything. So I'm not advocating for all old school. Not at all. Not even a bit. I'm advocating for balance. You told me once that from day one, you told your players: 'You have my trust and now I have to earn yours.' Why did you say that? Because I wanted them to understand how important that was. I wanted them to know that, from my perspective, there were 40 guys on the team, all with different personalities. They had my trust and I needed to really infiltrate each one of them so they would trust me in return. Advertisement How did you do that? You don't miss things. You have to see things. You know when someone needs your help, you know when you have to stand out of the way, you know what guys you can be more blunt with and who will crumble from bluntness. You have to read every individual, and it only happens through a daily discourse. You texted me something: 'Wear your thick skin. Criticism is not taken as an attack … but as a debate seeking the best possible answers.' I'm so thin-skinned. Painfully thin-skinned. How did you develop thick skin? Wow. Well, I grew up in eastern Pennsylvania. I was a quarterback when I was 10. I was calling audibles when I was 10. I called all my plays in a huddle when I was 10. When I screwed up, those coaches, Richie and Si, they beat me up a little bit. One time I threw an interception and they said I quit on trying to tackle the guy. They told me I was a quitter. I was 11, and we only lost one game in the three years that I started at quarterback. But they called me a quitter one day. High school football. Adam Sieminski. Toughest, toughest mother I've ever had to play for anywhere. He'd chew you out up and down on the sideline during a game. It would be 25 degrees and he'd be out there in a short-sleeve shirt and I'd go to talk to him and his teeth would be chattering so hard I couldn't understand a damn thing he said. But he wanted to show us how tough he was. And he was. I mean, these are the guys who made me tough. You had to wear it. Your skin gets thicker, you become more calloused. And eventually you get to the point where you can have a good, open, blistering debate or conversation. Bob Clear, my mentor of all mentors. I did this instructional league in the '80s. That morning in the Arizona Republic I'd seen a picture of Mark McGwire with his hands on the bat, palm up, palm down, and I was saying how much I loved that picture and his hand placement. And Bob said: 'You're full of s—. The hands should be in this position. What the f— are you talking about?' I said: 'F— you, Bob!' And we argued for 30 minutes, back and forth, screaming at each other. And then we walked out on the field arm in arm. I respected — I adored — this guy, but because we could argue like that, I learned. He always used to tell me: 'I'm just trying to make you think.' That's it. I'm just trying to make you think. You try to do that now and people crumble. One thing I struggle with: When people go through tough stuff like that, they can become really thankful for it. But I'm also always a little leery of nostalgia, because it can sometimes erase how miserable those times were. Where do you stand on that? Tough coaching, the appropriate way to treat people, that's all an active conversation now. I just like straightforwardness. There's a great line: Honesty without compassion equals cruelty. So you always have to gauge your honesty and what they can take. But I just would prefer seeing a little more straightforwardness and not dissembling or providing a soft landing because I don't think that's helping anyone. Advertisement Listen, I'm not talking about parting somebody's hair all the time. But you can't always paint it in a way or else the person you're speaking to is going to miss the point. You've got to make sure that it's firm enough. Understand your audience, always. But one of my lines is: If I tell you the truth, you might not like me for five or 10 days. But if I lie to you, then you're going to hate me forever. You told me once when you were coaching in the instructional league that you sat down with every player to go over not just their strengths but to hammer their weaknesses. I took a piece of paper and made it into quadrants and created a form on my laptop, which weighed about 25 pounds at the time. This was all me; I didn't get any input from any of the coaches or the front office. Nobody. This was just my scouting acumen at work because not everybody was on board with this. The top left quadrant would be positives. Top right quadrant would be negatives. The bottom left quadrant would be after they heard my positives and negatives, they would tell me their idea of what they wanted to get out of the instructional league. And then the bottom right would be the summary that I would write based on the positives, negatives, their input and then what I saw. I would give them that piece of paper. Why? Because when a player walks out on a field — minor league, major league, doesn't matter — there's always a sense of: 'What do they really think about me? How do they see me? What's the plan for me?' I used to hear that all the time: 'What's the plan?' So I figured if we could get this out in the open early, then when we saw each other on or off the field, there would be nothing in the background lurking. I think it's the most open and honest way to create relationships and communication. What do you think baseball has gotten wrong about leadership? Not just analytics but leadership. It's not just baseball. Very simply put: I always felt that I was hired to do a job and then permitted to do my job. I feel like in today's world, people are hired to do a job only the way they want them to do the job. The outline they're going to give you to do the job. It prevents the imagination from soaring. It prevents creativity. The moment you feel restricted, your imagination ceases to exist. Because why go there? Why ever ponder in bed at night? Why grind all day long over lunch? Why grind over different ways to make something better? One thing that I struggle with is that we have such easy access to every kind of metric or piece of data. For instance, with our stories, we can see exactly how many people are in them at any moment, how long they're spending, when they stop reading. Wow. What I think our whole conversation is circling back to is we're in a real tension between data versus art, or whatever you want to call it. I would guess that that's applicable in almost any field. We're all overloaded with data and we almost use data as a safety net. I get why; it is comforting. But I think we've got to leave room for instinct and experimentation. Advertisement Here's one thing I wrote the other day. I was driving and sending texts to myself so I wouldn't forget: Can data replace talent as the number one reason why groups are successful? Can numbers teach poise? Can numbers teach competitive nature? Can numbers teach instinct? This is what I think has become blurred a bit. Everybody thinks analytics is the reason; it's not. It's not the reason. The reason why the Dodgers are good? They have a good analytical department, but they've got really good talent. They're able to acquire good talent and pay them, but they do a good job of identifying talent. Data and analytics, that's the number one superstar component of that. That's where you really do a good job. That's why the Brewers have been good, that's why the Rays have been good: They're able to look under the hood and identify talent that nobody else sees. That, to me, is where analytics really shine. But can numbers teach poise? Can numbers teach competitiveness? Can numbers teach instinct? Those are the things that separate winners and losers. You can read last week's interview with Tara VanDerveer, one of the winningest basketball coaches of all time, here. (Illustration: Eamonn Dalton / The Athletic; Sean M. Haffey / Getty Images)
