Farewell, Bruce Bochy

Confession time - when Bruce Bochy was manager of the San Diego Padres, I couldn't stand the man.  My ire was directed more at the narrative that was constructed around him at the time.  He was a "genius!" And when you watched a baseball game during that era - and in this instance, I'm thinking more of the national telecasts than the local broadcasts with Kruk & Kuip, or Jon Miller - you could not go more than an inning or two without some commentary about whatever managerial move Bochy was making, and how that particular move manifested some type of rare genius.

It was annoying, and it got bad enough that when the Padres faced the best Yankees team in decades during the 1998 World Series, I actually rooted for the Yankees - which went against every fiber of my sports fan being, which has always been attracted to the underdog, unless one of the combatants is my team (or a team that I can't stand).  And when a managerial blunder (defined by Bill James as an out of the ordinary move that doesn't work) cost the Padres a game...well, let's just say I didn't feel too bad about it.

So when the Giants announced in October 2006 that they were bringing Bochy on board to succeed Felipe Alou, you didn't see me jumping for joy.  And after two seasons of more than 90 losses, it seemed just a matter of time before the Giants would be looking for Bochy's successor.  But things turned in a positive direction the following year, thanks in large part to the skinny kid in the above photo, a pitcher who looked like his arm might fall off every time he took the mound.  He's not going to make the Hall of Fame, but for a 3-4 year period, he was as good a pitcher as anyone has ever seen.  There's a bobblehead of him in my office, and he's holding his two Cy Young Awards.  Not too shabby.

And then the following year, a World Series Championship that seemed as if it would never come - at least not during my lifetime.  That was the year of torture, as the Giants found new ways to make things more dramatic than they needed to be.  Throughout it all, Bochy was the rock around which everyone would gather.  It was a glorious time.  And when it happened again in 2012 - the "never say die" year - and 2014, the year we were probably the 7th or 8th best team in baseball, we were well into territory that would have seemed corny even for a Hollywood movie.

The last few seasons haven't been that great, but so what?  How many baseball fans can say that they got to see their team bring home the trophy three times in five years?  And no matter important one believes a manager to be to a team's success, you can't argue with what Bruce Bochy has been able to accomplish.  You could call it luck, I suppose - but the way that he squeezed the best out of his players, including many that people had given up on, you have to give him credit.  He was able to do what few before him were able to do.  And he didn't need to be a genius - he just needed to be Bruce Bochy.

At the end of the day, Bochy's bust will be in Cooperstown, and that honor will be well deserved.