When the playoffs begin on Tuesday, millions of fans will suddenly become experts on managing baseball’s most critical games. Bruce Bochy can relate. Long before his decorated managerial career, Bochy was a third-string catcher wondering what his manager was thinking.
Bochy, who turns 70 in April, does not have it all figured out. His Texas Rangers will be home this fall, making this the 24th year in a row without a repeat World Series champion, by far the longest streak in major-league history.
But few have mastered October as skillfully as Bochy, whose teams are 20 games over .500 in the postseason. His 57-37 record comes to a .606 winning percentage — the best among the 10 managers with at least eight playoff appearances in the division-play era.
Bochy got his postseason introduction with a forearm to the face from Pete Rose. In the 1980 NLCS, catching for Houston in the 10th inning of Game 4, Bochy tried to wrangle an in-between hop that had squirted loose, just as the oncoming Rose crashed into him. Bochy bounced right up but the run scored, and for the decisive Game 5 he was back on the bench, intently studying manager Bill Virdon.
“Ryan was pitching and Bob Boone was up, second and third, and the pitcher was up next, I think (Marty) Bystrom,” Bochy said, recalling the details precisely from the second inning of Game 5.
“I was sitting there watching and I go, ‘Why are we pitching to him with two outs? The pitcher can’t hit, he’s got no chance against Nolan Ryan.’ But his philosophy all season was: ‘When the hitter’s hitting eighth, he’s hitting eighth for a reason, we’re gonna go get him.’ But this was a playoff game! I’m guessing he wishes he wouldn’t have done that, because Boone got a hit and scored two runs and that’s a big reason we lost that game.”
It’s a telling recollection, especially since that game was an all-time thriller, a blizzard of letdowns and comebacks decided by a run in the 10th inning — yet the two early runs did, indeed, give the Phillies their margin of victory. It was Bochy’s first lesson in the urgency of October managing.
Even so, Bochy would make his own postseason mistakes as a young manager with the San Diego Padres. In 1998, at Yankee Stadium, Bochy’s Padres led 5-2 in the seventh inning of the World Series opener. He called for the bullpen with two on and one out but followed his regular-season script instead of meeting the moment.
“Donne Wall did an incredible job for us all year, and I didn’t have all the analytics that we have today, but I had Joey Hamilton up, too,” Bochy said. “He had a power sinker. He was probably a little bit better matchup, but Joey didn’t have that role all year, because he started a lot. I had a choice and I went with, ‘Well, this is how I did it during the year.’ But my gut told me Hamilton was a better matchup.”
Knoblauch smoked a three-run homer and the Yankees erupted for seven runs. The Padres would lead for just two innings in the rest of the series, a four-game Yankees sweep.
It took a dozen more years for Bochy to win a playoff round. By then, in 2010, he was ready to implement new strategies to match the higher stakes of the playoffs. Leading the NLCS three games to two, in Philadelphia against the two-time defending NL champions, Bochy decided to treat Game 6 as he would a Game 7.
“I was gonna use everybody to try to win that game,” said Bochy, who took a whole-staff approach to counter the Phillies, who seemed to have a decisive edge with Roy Oswalt starting.
With the game tied, 2-2, Bochy pulled starter Jonathan Sanchez in the third inning for a five-man bullpen relay that included starters Madison Bumgarner and Tim Lincecum. The Giants got a late solo homer from Juan Uribe and the Phillies never scored again.
Facing the Rangers in the World Series, Bochy arrived at Game 5 with a three games to one lead. With two on and nobody out in the seventh inning of a scoreless game, he called for a bunt from Aubrey Huff, the Giants’ leading home run hitter.
Huff had come to bat more than 6,000 times in the majors and never executed a sacrifice bunt. But he got it down, and two innings later, the Giants were champions.
“It was incredible how well he laid that bunt down, like he’d been doing it all year,” Bochy said. “Luck may have been on our side, to be honest, but still, I wanted to avoid the double play and he did more than that; I thought he was gonna beat it out. But again, we didn’t do that all year. It’s (about) what’s at stake and the importance of every run, every at-bat, how critical every little thing is to helping you win the World Series or playoffs.”
Most managers, it seems, are largely tethered to a predetermined game plan now, especially in October, when data-heavy front offices try to account for every possibility. There’s value in preparation, to be sure, but part of Bochy’s comfort with the unconventional comes from the strong bond he’s always had with general managers: the Padres’ Kevin Towers, the Giants’ Brian Sabean and the Rangers’ Chris Young.
“You know how much support you have and the freedom you have to do things that might be a little bit different, knowing you’re gonna have their support,” Bochy said. “And before the game we talk about strategy, but there’s a trust factor that I think needs to be there, and I’ve been so lucky to have had that.”
Bochy’s feel for pitching changes — honed by a career of warming up relievers as a backup catcher — has been the overwhelming reason for his postseason record. The Giants and Rangers rarely lost a late lead; in eight LCS and World Series with those teams, Bochy has lost only one game with a blown save in the eighth inning or later.
The pitchers deserve the most credit, of course, but the relationships Bochy has fostered with players cannot hurt. In the 2012 division series, with the Giants needing to win three games in a row in Cincinnati, Bochy addressed the team — and let a veteran outfielder say a few words, too.
“I thought, ‘I gotta give them hope’ — and that’s when Hunter Pence followed me,” Bochy said. “I said, ‘Geez, Hunter, if I had known you were gonna give a sermon like that …’ It was incredible, because he hadn’t done that all year. He got there halfway through and he played all right, but he had never talked to the club or anything. The emotion really came out of him.”
The Giants won all three, naturally, then came back to win the NLCS and swept Detroit for the title. Twice in that World Series, Bochy found a pivotal role for Lincecum, who had struggled as a starter but could blow heat past the Tigers as a multi-inning reliever.
Bumgarner famously filled the starter-as-reliever role two years later, locking down a championship in Game 7 in Kansas City. Others have since followed the model: think Jon Lester with the Cubs in 2016, Charlie Morton with Houston in 2017, all of Boston’s starters in 2018, Patrick Corbin with Washington in 2019 and Julio Urías with the Dodgers in 2020.
Bochy did it again last year, with Jon Gray in Game 3 in Arizona. The strategy is really nothing new — Lefty Grove was Connie Mack’s bullpen weapon in 1929 — but in modern times, it’s a been hallmark for a postseason savant, underlining an October truism:
If you’re a manager who wants to win it all, make sure you’ve got moves like Bochy.
Farewell to a photographer’s field of dreams
One of the sad things about the demise of the Oakland Coliseum, which hosted its final game on Thursday, is that there will never be another place like it. That’s not to say that the Coliseum was a jewel of a ballpark. But as architecture evolves, there is no going back to the kind of utilitarian, multipurpose facility that welcomed the A’s from Kansas City in 1968.
Aaron Judge stands in the visitors’ dugout at the Oakland Coliseum in 2019. (Brad Mangin)
We will probably never again see a stadium without dugout railings. That’s a good thing, certainly, for player safety. But it’s a very bad thing for photographers. For them, the Coliseum was the very best venue in baseball, largely because of that clear shot into the dugout. Everywhere else is a hassle.
“If you’re standing on the dirt trying to shoot into the dugout, guys are sitting way in the back and the front row is a preliminary layer, like a tall-bench area that blocks the back — it’s a disaster for pictures,” said Brad Mangin, a longtime freelance photographer for Sports Illustrated, among other outlets.
“There are times when, if I was working on a story for the magazine when I really needed something at a Giants game, I would just go in the dugout and see if they threw me out, just act like I was a team photographer.
“But you don’t have to do that in Oakland, because it’s just right there, and it’s awesome. The catcher comes out early to put on his gear, sometimes guys are putting on their eye black. It’s so cool, these great, quiet moments of guys getting ready for the game. It’s really beautiful.”
There was an intimacy to the Coliseum, Mangin said, an ease of movement and array of angles that newer stadiums do not offer. It used to be even better — in the late 1980s, when Mangin started working at the Coliseum, he could shoot from a platform directly behind the backstop — but by the end, it was still special.
Red Sox outfielder Jarren Duran sits in the dugout before a game in Oakland in April 2024. (Brad Mangin)
“We can walk on the field and move spots any time we want, even during pitching changes,” Mangin said. “There are some stadiums where you have to go into the stands, and they’re (jerks) about it. At the Coliseum, it’s like you’re in your own backyard. The security guards are our friends.”
The Coliseum had open runways on either side of the plate connecting the dugouts to the clubhouse stairs. In photo terms, they were the “inside first” and “inside third” posts, and photographers could move easily between those spots.
“You want to shoot portraits of guys in the on-deck circle, and the on-deck circle’s right there,” Mangin said. “You can do a million things. When Matt Chapman was playing third base for the A’s, you could line up inside first and just sit on Matt Chapman and make pictures of him making diving plays. You could just do things, picture-wise, that you can’t do in a lot of parks.”
The team’s departure is personal for Mangin. He saw his first game at the Coliseum at age 7, in 1972, when the A’s won their first of three successive World Series titles. His father worked the scoreboard at Raiders games. He would walk to the park with his grandparents on half-price family nights.
Prince Fielder (left) and Delmon Young (right) sit in the dugout before Game 3 of the 2012 ALDS at the Oakland Coliseum. (Brad Mangin)
“It’s the most familiar building in my life,” Mangin said, “because there’s nowhere else that I can go back to, that I’ve been to for a longer period of time, that still exists. And that gives me a great feeling of comfort, because I can’t go back to my childhood. Every other place from my childhood is gone. Candlestick is gone. But the Coliseum, that’s the one place.”
And now it’s all over — as Ray Liotta said at the end of Goodfellas — and with it, an important chapter of life for so many Oakland fans.
Gimme Five
Five bits of ballpark wisdom
Brian Anderson on the best atmospheres for postseason baseball
It was a good omen for Brian Anderson that his first playoff series as national play-by-play man for TBS, in 2008, happened to involve the Milwaukee Brewers. He also called Brewers games locally and still serves in both roles.
Anderson has called many memorable basketball moments, too, as an expert voice of the NBA and NCAA. But baseball is his passion; before he made it big, he logged nine seasons behind the microphone of the Double-A San Antonio Missions.
Next month, Anderson will team with Ron Darling and Jeff Francoeur on TBS’ coverage of the American League Division Series and ALCS. When Sliders asked for his top five playoff environments, Anderson replied with six — but we let it stand because even that was a challenge.
“All playoff atmospheres are great,” Anderson said. “Never called a game in 17 years of doing this that I felt was lame.”
American Family Field, Milwaukee: “I’ve called two postseason series for my hometown team and there is nothing quite like that fan base. It’s my No. 1 because it’s personal. Fans really know the game, they drink and they are LOUD. Brewers fans are desperate for a winner, they appreciate playoff baseball and don’t take it for granted. A World Series in Milwaukee would be a magical scene. Footage from 1982 gives you a hint. The tailgating, the closed roof, the sheer volume … epic.”
Citizens Bank Park, Philadelphia: “I’ve called many MLB postseason games at Citizens Bank Park. Taking my Milwaukee goggles off, it is by far the best playoff atmosphere in baseball, and maybe American sports. They come early, stay late, know every subplot, and are as loud as it gets.”
Dodger Stadium, Los Angeles: “Big city, big crowds, big speakers and usually a beautiful sunset for primetime playoff games. Very loud, very intense, throw in a big mariachi band and very fun.”
Oriole Park at Camden Yards, Baltimore: “Not a big sample size, but Baltimore and Camden Yards is a killer postseason venue. Delmon Young’s 3-RBI double in 2014 vs Detroit might be the single loudest pulse I’ve ever experienced. We couldn’t keep a single camera stable and I barely heard myself through the headset.”
Truist Park, Atlanta: “The Battery has totally changed the dynamic of postseason baseball in Atlanta. Braves fans pack that ballpark and it’s raucous from the moment the gates open. Some of the loudest moments in my memories are from Truist Park.”
Rogers Centre, Toronto: “Sneaky top-five pick. The closed roof adds a different level of volume. Canadian fans rock that place.”
Off the Grid
Charlie Blackmon: Outfielder, 200 hits
Charlie Blackmon spent his first year at Georgia Tech as a sore-armed pitcher who stayed behind on road trips. He would spend those lonely days in the batting cage with a bucket of baseballs and no catcher, pitching to a target on a screen.
“That was a really hard time for me,” he would say a decade later, while on his way to a National League batting title for the Colorado Rockies. “I had to figure out what was important in life, what were my priorities. I just missed baseball and wanted to play.”
That summer, with a team called the Colleyville (Tex.) LoneStars, Blackmon told his coach, former major-leaguer Rusty Greer, that he was a two-way player. It was a bluff, but as Blackmon saw it, what was the harm? Worst case, he’d flop at the plate but still get to pitch. Best-case … well, best-case is how it turned out.
One day, while dragging the infield dirt on a tractor, Greer noticed the lanky lefty with the middling slider blazing across the outfield practicing sprints. Greer knew instantly: That kid’s not a pitcher, he’s an outfielder.
“He could run,” Greer said. “If you played, you don’t need a stopwatch or a radar gun to tell you someone is doing something other people can’t do.”
And from that point on, Blackmon was a star.
The following spring, Blackmon hit .396 for the Yellow Jackets and signed with Colorado as a second-round pick. Only now is he leaving, after announcing his retirement this week.
— Charlie Blackmon (@Chuck_Nazty) September 23, 2024
Blackmon, 38, was one of 212 possible answers on last Saturday’s Grid, which asked for an outfielder with a 200-hit season. He did it in that magical 2017 season, when he led the majors in hits (213), runs (137), triples (14) and total bases (387), helping the Rockies reach the playoffs.
Only one player in Colorado history, Hall of Famer Todd Helton, has more games, hits, runs and total bases than Blackmon, who also ranks second in steals, to Eric Young Sr. Blackmon’s range of skills makes him a go-to Grid answer: Though he never won a Gold Glove, he did almost everything else.
Blackmon — who grew his signature beard after the 2013 season, when a shaggy Red Sox team won the World Series — was an All-Star four times and a Silver Slugger twice. He played every outfield position and had seasons of 100 runs, 200 hits, 100 runs batted in, 30 steals and a .300 average.
All for the Rockies.
Classic clip
Batting Stance Guy on the best stances from the Oakland Coliseum
It’s been a joy to write “Sliders” this season, and we’ll be back again in March for our weekly six-month spin through the timeless and the timely from the game we all love. For the final item of 2024, we asked Gar Ryness, the world-famous Batting Stance Guy, to do a special send-off to the Oakland A’s.
Ryness grew up in the Bay Area, and the A’s were a big part of his childhood. He held his 10th birthday party at the Coliseum, and when the World Series came to town in 1988, he attended the first game in Oakland — which ended on a Mark McGwire home run off the Dodgers’ Jay Howell.
As he grew up to become the sport’s greatest mimic, Ryness performed on that Coliseum field, entertaining the A’s and Minnesota Twins before a game in 2010. A few years later, after watching his act at the Baseball Writers’ Awards Dinner in New York, Buster Posey greeted Ryness at the podium, amazed at the idiosyncrasies he’d picked up. David Letterman is also a fan.
Here is Ryness at his maniacal best, shifting seamlessly from one quirky stance to another, covering some five decades of the Athletics’ technicolor tenure by the Bay.
You’ll see big-timers like McGwire, short-timers like Johnny Damon, old-timers like Tito Fuentes and all-timers (for crazy stances, anyway) like the incredible shrinking Phil Plantier.
So here he is, for the final “Sliders” of the season, from the Coliseum parking lot after Thursday’s Oakland finale … your friend and mine, the one and only Batting Stance Guy.
(Top photo of Bruce Bochy: Daniel Shirey / MLB Photos via Getty Images)
