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| Thursday, February 20 Updated: March 13, 1:25 PM ET Rays' blueprint: Follow path of the NFL's Bucs By Jayson Stark ESPN.com |
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ST. PETERSBURG, Fla. -- They met a few weeks ago on a golf course in Tampa. The coach of the Super Bowl champs. The manager of that baseball team across the bay. Jon Gruden and Lou Piniella. They have more in common than you might think. Let us count the ways:
Of course, Gruden's parade was a Super Bowl parade. Piniella, on the other hand, was just the grand marshall of something called the Sant'Yago Knight Parade of Lights. Which still wasn't too bad a gig. "What was my job?" Piniella laughed. "Having some sangria and throwing beads, basically." And we're sure he handled it sensationally, too. But the parallels don't end there.
"Let's see," Piniella said, scratching the stubble on his unshaved chin. "For me, they gave up Randy Winn. For Gruden, they gave up cash and a whole lot of draft picks." Randy Winn wasn't quite $8 million and four picks, but he was the Devil Rays' incumbent All-Star. So these were both huge deals in their own way. And that leads to one last thing:
For the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, you know the answer. Gruden was supposed to be the fire-snorting genius who taught them how to win The Big One. For the Tampa Bay Devil Rays, it's a different dance but the same tune. Piniella is supposed to be the fireball of wisdom and experience who will teach them how to win, period. Little ones. Big ones. Heck, even three in a row in the Grapefruit League would look good to this team. "Well," Piniella said, "it worked out well for the Bucs. Let's hope it works out just as well here." We know this is where someone in production is supposed to drop in a laugh track. But if you think Lou Piniella came to Tampa Bay to be Casey Stengel -- the been-there, done-that, big-name expansion manager who will be content to spend the next four years snapping off one-liners as his team bumbles and stumbles through life -- you don't know our man Piniella very well. "We're gonna play better," Piniella promised, "than people think." OK, so maybe people think they'll be hard-pressed to win more games than the Bucs (who, for the record, won 14, counting The Big One). But since this is now the sports capital of one part of the sporting world, we wondered: What would have to happen for Piniella to re-enact the Jon Gruden Story in his little portion of the sporting world?
"They're both going to be sailing on the pirate ship," said one American League scout, when we posed that question. "The trouble is, the Bucs have all the cannons and muskets. And the Devil Rays are the ones out on the plank, with the rest of the AL East ready to push them off the plank." Yes, sir. As if Piniella didn't have enough troubles -- between his 73-man spring-training roster and his "138 pitchers" (actually, 39) -- he has 40 games against the Yankees and Red Sox to look forward to. Wish him luck. But at least when people tell Piniella it's hopeless, he can tell them it's not the first time he's heard that line. "When I went to Seattle 10 years ago, I was told it was a dead-end street, and I couldn't succeed there," he said. And we all know how that turned out. Ten years ago, the Mariners were also a laughingstock of a franchise, playing in a lifeless domed stadium, barely drawing a million people, coming off a 98-loss season, looking back at one winning season in the history of the franchise. "When I went to Seattle," Piniella said. "if you wanted to read about the baseball team, you had to turn to page eight in a 10-page newspaper." Whereas, in Tampa Bay, you only have to turn to page three. Unless the Bucs sign four more guys for their practice squad. So you could easily argue that a decade ago, when Piniella arrived in Seattle, the Mariners were the Devil Rays. Except for one thing: OK, make that two things: And Randy Johnson. "The good thing about having Randy," Piniella conceded, "was that every time I had a team meeting, I had it before the games Randy pitched. That way, they'd say, 'Boy, that skipper is a smart guy.' " But it wasn't only Johnson who helped make Piniella a smart guy in Seattle. Jay Buhner was also there when Piniella arrived. So were Edgar Martinez, Tino Martinez and Omar Vizquel. The first draft pick of the Piniella years was some kid shortstop named Rodriguez. And Piniella had Johnson and Chris Bosio in the rotation, Norm Charlton and Ted Power in the bullpen. So he's willing to concede the '93 Mariners were "a little more advanced" than the 2003 D-Rays. To which the only logical response is: a little? Those '93 Mariners didn't have to take 39 pitchers to spring training -- none of whom won more than eight games or saved more than two in the big leagues the previous year. We know that.
"If you ask me what my rotation is, I don't know," Piniella admitted. "I'll tell you Joe Kennedy will be in it. That's about it. And if I look at my bullpen, I can tell you Lance Carter is going to be out there. Outside of that, we've got to fill in the blanks." By our calculation, that means Piniella has more blanks than Gruden has offensive linemen. But that doesn't mean, the manager swore, that there isn't a blueprint here for better times ahead. They might be way, way ahead. But he sees them out there. "Our young kids are the blueprint," Piniella said. "We're going to grow with our young kids. Then, next winter, we should have more payroll to work with. And then we'll start putting this team together." In a year, $15 million comes off the payroll when the Rays give the contracts of Greg Vaughn and Ben Grieve the boot. In a year, they finally will have gotten a share of the national TV pie (after their five-year expansion initiation period expires). In a year, they should be near the front of the revenue-sharing line, meaning they could be due more than $20 million from their ever-charitable partners. So in a year, they will have money to spend to fill their holes. And don't think they won't be able to find decent players who will take it. "You wouldn't believe the players who would have signed here this winter," said GM Chuck LaMar, "just because Lou is here. I'm talking about quality guys, winning guys." But the time wasn't right to sign them until next year. And that's because, most important of all, in a year, the Rays should really know what they have in a group of young players with star-power potential.
"I told Lou before we hired him," LaMar said, "that 'a year from now would have been the ideal time to bring you here, so we don't have to put you through a losing season with a lot of young kids.' But to be honest, the ideal time is really today -- because he can teach those young players how to win, and help me evaluate which of those young players are championship-type players." That may well be a critical job in the life of the franchise. But it's tough to sell tickets if your ad slogan is: "Come watch us evaluate." So the Rays did the only prudent thing: They've slapped Piniella's picture on every billboard from Sarasota to Ocala. "One thing that means," Piniella chuckled, "is, I can't hide in Tampa anymore." The unspoken message is that Piniella is here to save the franchise. But the savior says: "I'm not here to save it. I'm here to give it a little rocket boost." Well, he already has. And he will. But before liftoff, there's this matter of trying to sift through those 73 bodies in camp to figure out which 48 need to be working somewhere else by Opening Day. At the moment, though, he isn't even sure who half of those 73 bodies are. "If I call them by the wrong name and I don't know them," he said, "my company line is, 'Next time you see me, call me Bill or Mack or Harry -- and don't worry about it.' " Asked if he planned to hold one-on-one meetings with all 73 of his players, Piniella chuckled: "I have energy -- but I don't have that much." And when the subject turned to how many players he planned to lop with his first cut, he quipped: "Usually, you cut down five or six at a time. ... I think we're going to need a couple of vans."
He has Mel Rojas in this camp. And John Frascatore. He has pitchers who have never won a big-league game, a pitcher who was a minor-league pitching coach last year (Carlos Reyes) and a pitcher who only got signed because he camped out in the parking lot (Wayne Gomes). So you understand why Piniella uses the word, "challenge," a lot. His 2001 Mariners won 63 games by the All-Star break. The team he's inheriting has won 63 games in a season just twice in team history. The Devil Rays came into existence in 1998, and they're already 162 games under .500. Piniella's teams, on the other hand, are a combined 184 games over .500. He's determined to still be over .500 when he departs here, too: "You think," he asked, "I'm going to need that leeway?" He has never lost 90 games in any season as a manager. The Devil Rays have never failed to lose 90 in any season in their history. So when Piniella talks about wanting to break the team record for victories this season, it isn't quite like Joe Torre talking about the same subject. But somewhere out there over the horizon, Piniella holds much bigger goals. Goals Jon Gruden can relate to. "This is my hometown area," he said. "I'd like to see baseball prosper here." And while the skeptics may have their doubts, Piniella thinks he's already seen all the proof he needs -- in that football team across the bay. "You can see (from the Bucs) that this area will support sports if you win consistently," he said. "You've just got to put an entertaining team on the field and play with passion and play winning baseball. "And when the people at ESPN start talking about us at 7 o'clock instead of 1:30 in the morning," Lou Piniella grinned, "that's when I'll know we're making progress." Jayson Stark is a senior writer for ESPN.com. |
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