No Hard Feelings

Terry Collins finished third in the N.L. Manager of the Year voting for the 2015 season. I for one am happy that there are more important things to celebrate than awards. But Collins finishing third isn’t a Greek tragedy. Joe Maddon deserved the award, hands down. Terry Collins was nominated for the award because the Mets finished in first place in the N.L. East. (Remember, nothing after that is taken into account.) The Mets finished in first place because Sandy Alderson traded for Yoenis Cespedes, among others, and the Mets went on a hot streak to end all hot streaks. Collins didn’t all of a sudden become smart on August 1st. You put another manager at the helm of the Mets for the 2015 season … and for the purposes of this award, 2015 is to be considered in a vacuum, the Mets probably end the regular season with the exact same fate. But if you replace Maddon with, say, Rick Renteria, with all those rookies on the team at once, my bet is that the Cubs don’t make the playoffs. Perhaps they would, but I don’t buy it. And that’s the best way I could explain why Joe Maddon is the National League Manager of the Year. And it’s why I’ve got no hard feelings over this.

But now here’s the flip side of that coin, and here’s why you should appreciate Terry Collins: If he didn’t all of a sudden become smart on August 1st, then that means that he wasn’t exactly dumb before that date. As you lift yourself from the vacuum of the 2015 season, perhaps Terry Collins played a bigger part in a World Series appearance than we could ever imagine. First off, consider that from 2010-2014, the Mets had some dog feces rosters, and yet Collins not only survived, but had those jokers in contention in July during a couple of those seasons. I’d be willing to bet there aren’t a lot of managers that wouldn’t have survived that. Perhaps because the Mets were too cash strapped to pay two managers at once, but that’s another kettle of fish all together.

But the most amazing part of Collins’ tenure is that he never, ever, lost that room. And there were some tests he had to pass. Jordany Valdespin alone would have sunk lesser managers. Look, does Collins make moves that infuriate the hell out of you and me? You bet. (Did you know that for every pitcher he leaves in a game one batter too long, an angel goes to hell? It’s true.) But he never lost that room because the one thing he did was reinvent himself as a players’ manager. It even goes back to the Jose Reyes “Bunt-Gate” where he let Reyes have his one bunt single to win the batting title and pull himself from the game. You might hate it, but the Terry Collins from Anaheim would have never done that. The Terry Collins from Anaheim wouldn’t have done a lot of things. The things he did do he paid for with his job, and with a good portion of his reputation.

But look at him now, how he’s adjusted and changed, and he became a World Series manager. No, that didn’t happen in a vacuum of one season where it would have earned him a silly award, but it happened over a span of 16 years. Lucky for us, Collins has adjusted his old school ways to deal with the new school. Did he care that Cespedes posed and modeled and flipped his bat in the playoffs? Maybe … but he accounted for today and let it slide, while realizing that posing and modeling have absolutely nothing to do with ability to play baseball. And good for him. The last thing anybody wants is somebody who still expects players to shake hands after wins, drive Dodge Darts to the ballpark, and have second jobs in the off-season. Collins didn’t do that. He adjusted, he never lost the room, and it culminated in a World Series appearance. And while that didn’t earn him an award, it earned him his reputation, and his redemption. I’m sure he would take that to be more important.