View Full Version : Letter to Manager Jerry Manuel

WhiteSox = Life
05-25-2003, 01:26 AM
Dear Manager Jerry Manuel,

I haven't had any problems with you, but your approach to the game hasn't been working, isn't working, and, more than likely, will not. Your time as the manager of this baseball team is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, near an end.

Jerry, you're in a situation like none other: Right now, it's your job to motivate the team when they seem, quite simply, unable to be motivated.

It's like telling a sack of dog crap to turn into a bag of diamonds.

In other words, it isn't going to happen, no matter what you do.

Nothing against you as a person, Mr. Manuel, but you and this team are not working.

If your - well, they haven't been yours for a long time - White Sox get swept by the Tigers, good-bye, Jerry. Even if they don't get swept, your head is in the guillotine. There's nothing you can do. You know it's going to come down, eventually. Maybe at the year's end, maybe tomorrow. Better sooner than later, Jerry?

Hopefully, for White Sox fans, and for your own sake, you will be fired, and sooner, rather than later.

In fact, if I were you, I'd resign. I know you know your situation. Go ahead and take fate into your own hands. Let the world know that you're tired of everything involving the White Sox and can't take it anymore!

In fact, if I were you, I'd totally quit baseball for a year or two and try to come back, refreshed and with a new attitude on life, and know how that attitude and your previous one, reflects on the world of Major League Baseball and its overpaid players.

Well, Jerry, the end is near. How near? Nobody knows, except maybe Kenny Williams... Maybe Jerry Reinsdorf? Maybe only God knows.

In other words, Mr. Manuel, your time with the White Sox has been a strange one. You came in when they were horrible. You led a bunch of misfits, many having career years, to the playoffs in 2000, a magical year. You watched in 2001, as everybody was hit with the injury bug. You saw in 2002, a team totally underachieve, and a second fire sale in seven years for the White Sox.

Now, in the year 2003, you're overlooking a team, a team that should contend with the cream of the crop, a group of guys whose collective abilities were to be ranked with some of the top teams in baseball. Sure, they had their faults, sure they weren't perfect, but you were to be there and smile your smile as they tore threw the league and went deep into the playoffs. What do you get? You get a team with no hearts, no souls, no brains, and more underachievement in one year than a manager should see in his whole career.

Jerry, you are not at fault. You can be blamed for your approach not working for the players. You can be criticized for your lack of emotion. You can be ridiculed for your Gandhi ways. The fact remains that all the players on the White Sox this year - whether current or having played earlier in the year and are now injured or in the Minors again - most guys who make more money in one year than many White Sox fans make in their lives, are simply not getting it done.

Of course, as has been the tradition for baseball since its inception, when a team fails to produce when everybody expects them to, who gets blamed? The players? Sure, to an extent, but you can't get rid of 25+ players. You certainly can, however, get rid of the manager of the poor-playing team.

Well, Jerry, it has truly been a ride. Every possible emotion has been tapped upon during your tenure as manager. You may not have been the best manager, despite your being crowned one in 2000. You may not have been the most vocal, emotional, active managers. You may not have won a World Series, but then again, it's only been 26 managers, some more than once, since the White Sox have last won a World Series. It's only been 12 managers, again some more than once, since they've last even gotten to the World Series.

Kid Gleason, Johnny Evers, Eddie Collins, Ray Schalk, Lena Blackburne, Donie Bush, Lew Fonseca, Jimmy Dykes, Ted Lyons, John Onslow, Red Corriden, Paul Richards, Marty Marion, Al Lopez, Eddie Stanky, Les Moss, Don Gutteridge, Chuck Tanner, Bob Lemon, Larry Doby, Don Kessinger, Tony LaRussa, Jim Fregosi, Jeff Torborg, Gene Lamont, Terry Bevington.

The above-mentioned have all been managers of the Chicago White Sox. They have one definitive thing in common: None of them ever led the White Sox to a World Series Championship. Soon, Jerry, you shall be added to that infamous list.

Don't feel bad about it. Many have come before you - and if history is any indicator - many will come after you; all of whom did not, haven't and will not lead the White Sox to a World Series Championship.

It's a sad thing, Jerry, to see a manger taking all the blame for his team's lack of success, especially in cases where the team was to be among the elite. It's happened before, is happening now, and will always happen, not just in baseball, but in all sports. For whatever reason, it seems that more managers' job securities are always on the cusp of termination when it comes to baseball.

Jerry, I may not have ever met you and I probably never will, but have your things packed and ready to be taken with you when you get fired or resign. When the time comes, accept it like the man you are, and as humbly and graciously as you walked in, walk out even more so.

You haven't been happy for a long time with this team and it's important that you are able to get out of baseball for a while and recollect your thoughts and remember who you are. Baseball is not life, Jerry. Happiness is life. It's something you haven't had for a long time and happiness is the one thing that every person on Earth deserves.

So cut your losses, leave the Chicago White Sox organization forever and live life again, your life, the life you want, Jerry Manuel. God knows you've wasted over five years already.