The problem with intelligence is how to apply it.
Clint Hurdle is no smarter today than he was last season, but he’s clearly a better manager. The Rockies are the first team since the 1935 Chicago Cubs to go 21-1 after Sept. 1.
Hurdle deserves plenty of credit for this remarkable run and not because of the title on his business card. When assessing how the Rockies reached the World Series, a worst to possibly-first story, the explanation begins on Jan. 18. That’s when Hurdle, looking relaxed with longer hair, rested from a successful diagnosis of sleep apnea and healthier from a new diet, publicly revealed a seismic shift in his philosophy.
He was bent on correcting three areas that had become favorite grousing topics of players: his overbearing personality, body language and frequent criticism of them in the press.
“I am going to do some things differently because it’s time,” Hurdle explained a month before spring training started.
When the players were told of Hurdle’s stance, they reacted privately as if they had been paroled. It’s not that they didn’t like their manager, they just began to feel smothered. It’s akin to a teen-age driver with Dad in the back seat.
Eventually, you have to throw your son the keys and let him figure it out on his own.
From the first day in Tucson, it was obvious Hurdle was serious about changing. He was immediately seen more and heard less. Understand, he is to managers what James Earl Jones is to voiceovers. Hurdle’s sound is distinctive and carries approximately two zip codes.
He turned the clubhouse over to the players, giving freedom to paint their own picture. It went over famously, but the litmus test was always going to be the season – when the games counted.
During the 2006 season, Hurdle had developed a habit of bouncing a ball in the dugout during the games. It seems harmless, but in context of dugout etiquette, it was irritating. During the second half of last season, Hurdle advised his players to relax and trust themselves,yet he was exhibiting blatant signs of stress.
This season, the bouncing ball disappeared. So, too, did Hurdle’s sharp tongue. A victim of changing rosters and a full-blown youth movement, Hurdle had grown accustomed to pointing out his players’ flaws. It was never vindictive, but it was shockingly candid. The feeling was Hurdle was given credit for wins and the players were always to blame for losses.
Hurdle, understand, is bright by any standard, let alone baseball’s cocoon. He was always fond of saying, borrowing from Einstein, that “the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over again and expecting different results.”
Hurdle knew in January that it was time to walk “shoulder to shoulder” with his players, not out front. Go ahead, Google “Hurdle” and “critical” and see how many links pop up. Zero is a good guess.
Something wonderful happened along the way. No longer a babysitter, no longer a slave to flawed numbers because of inferior personnel, Hurdle began relying more on his gut.
Practically every move since August has come up glowing. He gave Ubaldo Jimenez and Franklin Morales opportunities and bit his lip when they wobbled. He worked Brian Fuentes back into the mix, stuck with Todd Helton as the clean-up hitter, unearthed Seth Smith as a pinch hitter, activated Willy Taveras in the NLCS and went for the jugular in the early innings against the Phillies and Diamondbacks, clearly outmanaging Charlie Manuel and Bob Melvin.
It’s led to an unmistakable conclusion: The Rockies are in the World Series because of Hurdle, not in spite of him.
