Joe Maddon’s abrupt departure still doesn’t feel right. But that’s largely on us. Was he to stay a marketplace anomaly forever?
Yes, he legally exercised his contract opt-out rights to assess his value. And as he said at his Monday press conference, he was even ready to sit out a year (from managing) if that’s what it took. So when Cubs’ management came calling–literally meeting him in his Winebago up in the Florida Panhandle a fortnight ago–with a fat-contract offer, he took it.
Who could blame him?
It’s just that we were spoiled. His Rays contract talks had always been low key, under the radar and seemingly routine. Players, not a manager, made the headlines where money was concerned. Arguably, however, he was underpaid. His agent, Alan Nero, phrased it this way: “Joe would have stayed had they stepped up, but we were so far apart.”
What made Maddon so popular here, in addition to winning against all odds, was that he didn’t just love this area–no gated community for him–but he seemed to revel in its inherent, small-market challenges. The Rays were financial Davids among the mega-market Goliaths–and that absolutely suited Maddon. It’s almost as if he perversely preferred it that way.
We were comfortable seeing Maddon in that context. Going after bigger bucks just didn’t seem the idealized Maddon MO. Neither did stepping over the body of the ousted Cubs manager, Rick Renteria, in order to get that five-year, $25-million, big-market contract.
But who knew he was still harboring serious desires of “moving forward,” as he put it, in his career? That even though “60 was the new 40,” he couldn’t pass up a unique, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that wouldn’t include frustratingly ominous stadium-and-attendance scenarios in addition to payroll roulette.
And let’s not underplay a singularly key factor: We’re talking Chicago here. Wrigley Field, world class skyline, Lakeshore Drive, Michigan Avenue, fine dining, vintage neighborhoods–but the image of ultimate, lovable loser when it comes to the Cubs. If Maddon can succeed here and exorcise the curse–he will have topped his Tampa Bay legacy.
Should he ultimately succeed where Leo Durocher, Don Zimmer, Lou Piniella and 51 others have failed and win a World Series for the first time in more than a Chi-Cub century, nobody will recall his less-than-seamless exit from Tampa Bay.
In fact, it will seem like a natural progression. Joe Gnome to Windy City Icon. All he has to do is win a World Series.
Good luck, Joe. It was a great run.