A Man Called Tito

As I watched the postgame of the “Thank You, Tito” Guardians home closer, I noticed a part of Terry Francona I had probably often seen over the last 11 seasons, but had never fully appreciated until he was almost out the door: As he got handshakes and hugs from the players coming off the field from the Guardians 4-3 Ohio Cup clincher over the Reds on Wednesday, he grabbed almost every player by the back of the neck as part of the embrace. He might have even had a little smooch for some of the guys, but encouraging words and the neck grab were definite happenings.Tito, always keeping the pulse of the team, even here at the end. For months now, every writer and fan that even sniffed Cleveland baseball has been speculating and asking about whether or not this was the last season as Guardians manager for Terry Francona. Since we the public have been aware of his many health problems from years ago, the Cleveland area has expected the end to be sooner rather than later. Though he has yet to declare it as the end, all the big, bright neon signs point to Tito retiring once this season is over. But like his signature glob of bubble gum, chewing tobacco, and sunflower seeds, Francona leaves behind a lasting image, for his work on the field and his stories off of it.Francona was always a players' manager, first above all. In Cleveland, he had his choice of players for leadership roles, often of the old guy variety, always in the same vein as the manager; lovers of the game willing to put the team above themselves. From utility man Mike Aviles, to pinch hitter extraordinaire Jason Giambi, to the party man himself Mike Napoli, to old rubber arm Bryan Shaw, to 10-year service man Kole Calhoun, they came in and played hard anywhere on the field for a guy that seemed to earn respect as soon as players walked into the clubhouse. Josh Naylor famously headbutted Francona in a celebration, leading Terry to wear a helmet next time the Guardians walked off a team. But while players loved him, Tito had no problem telling someone off when they were out of line, like when he asked Trevor Bauer, “What the fuck is wrong with you?” after the pitcher hucked a ball over the Kansas City center field wall when Tito went to the mound to take Bauer out of the game in 2019 before he was traded at the July deadline. In his own managerial style, Terry Francona had no problem with corralling the media attention to him instead of the players, usually with funny stories. While the fried chicken and beer Red Sox clubhouse ran him out of Boston, Tito became an ice cream man himself in Cleveland, often telling stories about how much he would stress out and calm himself with the cold treat at night before big games. He had a featured dance role in the 2013 team’s Harlem Shake video. There are dozens of gifs of him doing weird things in the dugout for your in-game usage and pleasure. When batflips became a talking point around the league, he came out with my favorite view of all celebrations in sport: As long as it comes from a place of “genuine emotion” instead of “trying to make someone look bad,” celebrations are fair game. As a 2023 season full of more dim lights than highlights trudged on, Francona took one last media hit for the team when he started to hint at retirement after this season, releasing some pressure from a young team still in some form of contention for most of the last two months. As a baseball strategist, Tito also leaves behind a lasting legacy. It should not be forgotten that Francona, in the 2016 run to a World Series appearance, revolutionized and weaponized a bullpen like few managers before. Left with Corey Kluber and the scraps of what should have been a championship-quality starting rotation, the Indians found a way to scratch and claw to within one sad little run of a title because of how Andrew Miller, Cody Allen, Bryan Shaw, Jeff Manship (great meme), and the rest of the relievers were deployed: Early, often, and for multiple innings. Now, most of this work was done because Allen was a reliable closer, leaving deadline-acquisition Miller free to be the fireman at any point in a game, but Francona deserves the credit for the creativity. As Paul Hoynes wrote the Indians out of contention when Carlos Carrasco went down with injury, the fire lit up in the Cleveland clubhouse and almost burned the team straight to the top. (Love Hoynsie for all his work, love him even more for being a catalyst to a magical postseason run.)Even in his last home game as skipper, Francona managed to deliver one last classic story: His famous scooter, referred to by him as “The Hog,” was stolen for at least the second time, and once again returned, but this time a bit wrecked and maybe stripped for parts. One thing is for sure, as Tito noted, “The worst part was they defecated on it.” Nothing like a good poop story to top off a story-filled tenure.Terry Francona is, for all these things, what most MLB fans dream of being: A baseball lifer. He learned the game from his dad (the original Tito) in Cleveland. He was a top prospect that lost some ability due to injuries, yet still made a major-league playing career. He almost got a normy job in real estate when he retired from playing before he realized he missed the game and got into coaching. He worked for the Indians and in sports commentary between managerial stints. What he does next is up in the air for the first time in a long time, but don’t be surprised if baseball is at the forefront after his health is improved.The players don’t get to give Tito a fitting final finale, carrying him off the field to the clubhouse to celebrate a World Series victory 75 years in the making. While he broke the Curse of the Bambino, the Curse of the Rock lives on, even if only in faded memories and legends. But with such a young roster, Francona’s impact has a chance to reverberate with these players for another decade or two at least. Maybe his successor in leading the club is already on this coaching staff. Or, if some on Twitter get their wish, the Guardians find a way to pry former Francona staffer Kevin Cash from Tampa Bay for the lead job in Cleveland. Any way you slice it, Terry Francona may be retiring, but he’s not leaving us any time soon. I’ll miss all the little things he brought to the team most of all, especially things like the neck grabs and encouraging words I didn’t even notice along the way.Thank you, Tito. For all the wins and all the love, but especially for all the stories.