After dismissal, former managers stay in the game to get another chance: when fired from one post, many field generals attempt to remain in the majors in some capacity, hoping to be recalled as a skipper

Baseball Digest, July, 2005 by Jack Etkin

ALL OF A SUDDEN, CHARLIE MANUEL FOUND HIMSELF WITH NO LINEUPS TO ponder, no dugout haven and no team to manage. Two days after serving as a coach for the American League at the 2002 All-Star Game, Manuel was fired by the Cleveland Indians.

Manuel had managed the Indians for two and a half years. They won 90 games and finished second in the A.L. Central in 2000 and won it with 91 victories in 2001. Now it was mid-July; the Indians, dramatically altered and no longer dominant, were eight games below .500 and nine and a half games behind, and Manuel was headed home to Winter Haven, Florida.

There would be withdrawal, of course, and hurt and bitterness. But Manuel was determined to enjoy himself and take advantage of a summer that had taken a sharp turn.

"I hadn't fished for a long time," Manuel said. "I loved to fish when I was a boy. And I love to play golf. Really, I thought, 'Hell, this won't be all bad.' I went fishing twice, and I played golf twice.

"And then do you know what I did? I got me a satellite and a baseball package. I had my big-screen TV on me Pack porch. I started watching three games a night. Weekends, I'd see like five games. I'd watch baseball almost all day. That's how much I missed baseball."

Manuel wasn't out of the game long, taking a job in January 2003 as special assistant to Philadelphia Phillies general manager Ed Wade. That position was Manuel's path back to the dugout. He returned to managing this season with the Phillies.

In 2003 and 2004, Manuel's work with the Phillies took him to their minor-league affiliates. He would throw batting practice. Manuel, a former major league batting coach, would talk hitting with the minor leaguers. And when the games began, Manuel was in uniform and on the bench.

"That really helped me," he said. "And also that showed how much I still loved the game and my passion for the game and how much I wanted to be back on the field."

That yearning helps explain why 16 former major league managers are coaching in the big leagues.

Manuel, 61, said he was surprised he scrapped his golf and fishing plans so fast and wasn't content to simply relax. Paychecks from Cleveland were coming for the balance of that summer, but easy living wasn't for Manuel. "I missed going to the ballpark," he said. "I missed being in the clubhouse.

I missed being with the guys. I missed talking baseball. I look back and I think, 'Well, hell, that's the only thing I know.' And it's also the only thing I wanted to do."

Useful Work

Hal McRae spent the past two seasons being paid by the Tampa Bay Devil Rays to do very little. He held the title of special assistant to the general manager. That's because McRae was under contract after the Devil Rays brought in Lou Piniella to replace McRae as manager.

McRae moved on to St. Louis this year and is back on the field as the Cardinals hitting coach. It's a transition McRae knows well. He became manager of the Kansas City Royals during the 1991 season and managed them until the players strike ended the 1994 season. McRae had been a hitting coach before managing the Royals and returned to that role with Cincinnati and then Philadelphia before going to Tampa Bay.

"If you love the game, and you don't have a big ego, it's not a big transition (from managing to coaching)," McRae said. "It's different, but it's just a matter of you like to be involved, like to be in uniform and like to deal with players."

Save for one season in Cincinnati, McRae has coached for also-ran teams. That shouldn't be the case this year with St. Louis, but McRae found fulfillment coaching hitters on struggling teams.

"If you enjoy working with the players--for me, that's what it's all about," McRae said. "Whether you're in a good situation or you're in the second division, the players are the game."

Told about Manuel's unfulfilled goal to play a lot of golf and fish frequently, McRae, 59, said those activities are available, particularly golf, in most cities a coach visits. And the game's magnetic pull involves a competitive aspect that far exceeds trying to beat friends in a round of golf.

"It has a different purpose than anything else you can do," McRae said. "You feel productive, which, I think, is necessary, but if I go out and shoot under par, I don't feel productive. I feel I had a good day; I feel my timing was good."

McRae was making a point, because his golf game isn't honed enough for him to break par. Regardless of how many greens he hits in regulation or how many friendly wagers he wins or how many fish he catches, he isn't going to get the same sense of fulfillment he can from coaching.

"You can't same get the satisfaction from those other activities because they don't mean as much as helping your team win ballgames or making a contribution to the success of an organization," McRae said. "It's not the same; golf and fishing don't stack up."

McRae went from bench coach to manager of the Devil Rays in mid-April 2001 and managed them in 2002. Tampa Bay lost 106 games in that latter season and 100 in 2001, including 90 under McRae. Having been at the helm of those dreadful teams and knowing that, regardless of the circumstances, you're judged by your record, McRae can't say whether another opportunity will, or should, arise.