Tony LaRussa has the reputation of being a player’s manager, but I can’t imagine him as a practical joker, either. LaRussa has been around for a while, managing the Chicago White Sox, the Oakland A’s, and the St. Louis Cardinals. Still, he’s one of those guys who looks forever young. He’s kind of the Dick Clark of baseball. Tony’s a hard worker and a real innovator.

When the bus left after a game, Tony was always still in uniform, getting ready for the next day’s game. He would come up right after the game and start writing down notes. He would continue to do this until the press came in. After talking to the reporters, he would grab a bite to eat, then sit right down and keep working on his notes. Sometimes, an hour after the bus left for the hotel, he would shower up and start nibbling on anything left over from the postgame meal.

Tony was very intense and reminded me a lot of Earl Weaver and his coaches back in the early seventies. They all seemed to be so absorbed in preparing for a game before the first pitch and analyzing it after the last out that nothing else seemed to matter. The big difference between Earl and Tony was after they won a game. Earl, who might kick a chair or anything else in his way after a loss, would noticeably enjoy himself after a victory. I’m sure Tony enjoyed winning, but he never really showed it. When he congratulated his players, it was businesslike, not jovial. After a loss, he obviously wasn’t happy, but he would maintain his businesslike demeanor and seldom go into a tirade. The look on his face, however, said, “Don’t mess with me.” I didn’t, either. I always felt I should stay away from him after a loss.

I remember one game when LaRussa was managing Oakland. The A’s lost, and LaRussa and his coaches were still moping around well after the team bus left. I was busy cleaning up the clubhouse a good two hours later, and Tony was still totally engrossed in updating his notes and not talking to anybody. I asked the coaches if they needed a ride back to the hotel, but they said Tony had a car. The coaches went about their business, updating notes and watching videos. All of a sudden, Art Kusyner looked up and asked, “Where’s Tony?” When we couldn’t find him in the clubhouse, we all agreed he must have returned to the hotel. I ended up driving them back after all.

“Nice guy,” I chided LaRussa when he walked in the next day. “Your coaches were waiting on you for a ride last night, and you left without them.”

I think that’s the first time he realized what he had done.

“I got so wrapped up in last night’s game, I just forgot,” he said.

That wasn’t the only long night I had because of LaRussa. I don’t remember if the A’s won or lost this time, but Tony was still in his uniform, sitting in front of his locker a good two or three hours after the game. The entire clubhouse was cleaned, and I even sat in my office and did some work that could have waited until the next day. Tony acted as if I wasn’t even there. Finally, about four in the morning, I switched the lights on and off a few times. He didn’t even look up. “OK, Big Jim,” he said. “I’ll get going.” He took off his uniform, showered, and left. Finally.

LaRussa was one of the first managers to do something that made a lot of sense to me. He would post the next day’s lineup before the players left the park after a game. Players can be a little paranoid, especially platoon players and extra men. Usually, a left-handed-hitting platoon player will know he’s in there the next day if a right-hander is pitching, but there’s still a little doubt with some guys until they see their name on the lineup card. For a player to see it in writing before he leaves the park removes that 1 percent of doubt from his mind, and he can be more relaxed that night and more likely to perform better the next day. LaRussa and Lachemann were the first managers I ever saw post a lineup a day ahead of time. Most managers still don’t do that.

» NEXT