Ozzie Guillen was 17 minutes into his introductory news conference before someone raised what many see as the biggest issue for the new Marlins manager.
How will he handle the postgame questions about his strategical moves?
Not so much from the media, which generally hasn't bothered Guillen, but from his bosses?
From owner Jeffrey Loria to president David Samson to baseball czar Larry Beinfest, the Marlins have a widespread reputation for being, shall we say, demanding of their managers.
Jack McKeon never minded the back and forth, but it drove Joe Girardi to the breaking point, undermined the confidence of Fredi Gonzalez and caused Edwin Rodriguez to walk away from his dream job in midseason.
Now, along comes the wildest Ozzie since Sharon Osbourne's hubby, and everyone seems to be rubbing their palms together in anticipation of the fireworks.
"I know the way baseball thinks," Guillen said. "I look forward to the challenge."
If Guillen had all those paint-scraping arguments with White Sox General Manager Kenny Williams, a former big-league outfielder, how is he going to react to even the gentlest of suggestions from the Marlins' braintrust?
"I've known them for a long time," Guillen said. "I say, 'When you're going to ask me a baseball question, make sure you bring your book with you,' because I'll be ready for it."
When I asked McKeon if he had any advice for Guillen along these lines, he smiled and said it would be up to Ozzie to "figure out the landscape" for himself.
"He knows pretty much," McKeon said. "He's been here before."
It should be pointed out that, like McKeon, Guillen has a World Series title on his managerial resume. They are the only Marlins skippers during Loria's ownership who could make that claim.
That should buy some leeway for Ozzie, as should the fact he has championship equity in this franchise going back to his two-year stint coaching third base (2002-03).
The Marlins, mind you, are hardly the only modern front office that likes to stop by and see the manager after the game. You know, to chew on the big decisions of the night.
It happens in Boston, where Terry Francona is stunningly out after two championships in eight years.
It has happened in Oakland for more than a decade. Witness the aggrieved dyspepsia with which Philip Seymour Hoffman portrays former A's manager Art Howe in Moneyball.
Long gone are the days when a manager had the first, last and only say in the way a big-league ballclub was run. It's more of a group effort these days, but Beinfest insists the Marlins' reputation for being difficult is undeserved.
"I'm not sure where a lot of that comes from," Beinfest said. "I don't feel that way. I don't know about former [Marlins] managers, if they felt that way."
Good one, Larry.
"I would say that I don't go into the clubhouse very much after a game unless we have business, and generally there's not a lot of second guessing," Beinfest said. "I don't usually talk a lot about game strategy or, 'What happened there?'"
Beinfest says he talks "more about the usage and the personnel: 'Did we have the right people? Did you have the right people in that situation to use? Do we need to tweak this or that?'"
That's a long way from insisting on lineup changes and batting orders, to which Beinfest pleads innocent.
"I think it's going to work really well," Beinfest said. "Ozzie knows us. He seems very open. He's been here. He knows what's going on."
Guillen, meanwhile, said he understands he's "here to be criticized because that's our job." But in the next breath, he called after-the-fact critiques a "cheap shot," saying such input must come in real time to have any validity.
Yep, this is going to be quite an experiment.
Better bring your book, fellas.
How will he handle the postgame questions about his strategical moves?
Not so much from the media, which generally hasn't bothered Guillen, but from his bosses?
From owner Jeffrey Loria to president David Samson to baseball czar Larry Beinfest, the Marlins have a widespread reputation for being, shall we say, demanding of their managers.
Jack McKeon never minded the back and forth, but it drove Joe Girardi to the breaking point, undermined the confidence of Fredi Gonzalez and caused Edwin Rodriguez to walk away from his dream job in midseason.
Now, along comes the wildest Ozzie since Sharon Osbourne's hubby, and everyone seems to be rubbing their palms together in anticipation of the fireworks.
"I know the way baseball thinks," Guillen said. "I look forward to the challenge."
If Guillen had all those paint-scraping arguments with White Sox General Manager Kenny Williams, a former big-league outfielder, how is he going to react to even the gentlest of suggestions from the Marlins' braintrust?
"I've known them for a long time," Guillen said. "I say, 'When you're going to ask me a baseball question, make sure you bring your book with you,' because I'll be ready for it."
When I asked McKeon if he had any advice for Guillen along these lines, he smiled and said it would be up to Ozzie to "figure out the landscape" for himself.
"He knows pretty much," McKeon said. "He's been here before."
It should be pointed out that, like McKeon, Guillen has a World Series title on his managerial resume. They are the only Marlins skippers during Loria's ownership who could make that claim.
That should buy some leeway for Ozzie, as should the fact he has championship equity in this franchise going back to his two-year stint coaching third base (2002-03).
The Marlins, mind you, are hardly the only modern front office that likes to stop by and see the manager after the game. You know, to chew on the big decisions of the night.
It happens in Boston, where Terry Francona is stunningly out after two championships in eight years.
It has happened in Oakland for more than a decade. Witness the aggrieved dyspepsia with which Philip Seymour Hoffman portrays former A's manager Art Howe in Moneyball.
Long gone are the days when a manager had the first, last and only say in the way a big-league ballclub was run. It's more of a group effort these days, but Beinfest insists the Marlins' reputation for being difficult is undeserved.
"I'm not sure where a lot of that comes from," Beinfest said. "I don't feel that way. I don't know about former [Marlins] managers, if they felt that way."
Good one, Larry.
"I would say that I don't go into the clubhouse very much after a game unless we have business, and generally there's not a lot of second guessing," Beinfest said. "I don't usually talk a lot about game strategy or, 'What happened there?'"
Beinfest says he talks "more about the usage and the personnel: 'Did we have the right people? Did you have the right people in that situation to use? Do we need to tweak this or that?'"
That's a long way from insisting on lineup changes and batting orders, to which Beinfest pleads innocent.
"I think it's going to work really well," Beinfest said. "Ozzie knows us. He seems very open. He's been here. He knows what's going on."
Guillen, meanwhile, said he understands he's "here to be criticized because that's our job." But in the next breath, he called after-the-fact critiques a "cheap shot," saying such input must come in real time to have any validity.
Yep, this is going to be quite an experiment.
Better bring your book, fellas.
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