Winning...

Getting back to “The Yankee Years” I was struck with an odd epiphany: winning means different things to different players; in a perfect world, we would hope that all 25 players on our rooting interest’s roster all desperately want to win the World Series and that winning means winning games, winning series, winning playoff berths, winning playoffs and of course the big enchilada--winning the World Series.

After all, how could it be any less? These guys are hyper-competitive, they had to beat our other players from little league through AAA to reach the majors, they’re used to success so surely once they finally nab one of the 750 available big league jobs they are fully and unconditionally committed to the next logical goal--the final dog pile of a given season.

I mean--what else is their possibly to win once you reach the major leagues?

Believe it or not--quite a bit.

Players are as pragmatic as the next guy and realize that generally the odds of being one of the chosen few to enjoy the ultimate moment of October glory is a longshot year in and year out. However, there are other things a player might try to win: a regular job, an All Star berth, post season awards, their first seven (or possibly eight) figure salary, free agency and a massive contract; for a pitcher it could be 20 wins, 200 strikeouts, an ERA title, 50 saves or possibly a promotion from setup man to closer, from reliever to starter etc. A position player might view a win in terms of 30 HR, 40 doubles, 50 steals, 200 hits, a .300 average or topping the century mark in runs scored or RBI.

These things are freely available to a player each and every year (for the most part) whereas they realize that unless things break right in the early going it’s very difficult to realistically envision a shot at winning it all. Even if they are fully committed to it after a 30-35 start to the season, how many guys in the locker room truly share the same optimism and drive? If in their heart of hearts they feel maybe a handful of teammates want to keep digging game in and game out for the brass ring how good would they feel their chances are of getting out of that particular hole with only lukewarm support?

On the other hand, personal goals remain attainable for a much longer part of the season often requiring little more than a decent hot streak to keep them within range of those achievements.

Toss in a few other factors: what if a few of your compatriots are in the final year of their contract or up for arbitration for the first time? Will they be willing to sacrifice their personal stats to try to win a game when the team is 30-35 and they’re down in the eighth inning of a two-run game with man on first and second and nobody out?

Do they move the runners along, try to get the ball to the right side, attempt to make contact and go for a base hit or even be willing to take a walk when the count is 3-1 and the fastball isn’t necessarily in their dead-red power zone or do they go for the glorious three-run jack and try to be a hero and add three ribbies to their tally even though they bat second?

Or would they shorten their stroke and choke up on the bat, simply try for a single and at the very least make sure the runners move up even if it means taking a walk and letting the guy behind them have the RBI?

These decisions are made in every game by every team in every spot in the standings and the deciding factor is what a given player views winning and success to be and it isn’t necessarily synonymous with winning the Fall Classic. The odds of winning the World Series may be slim to none in some players’ minds but the odds of getting an extra million in the next contract are excellent if they finish with 100 as opposed to 97 RBI.

It would seem that a lot of players embrace a philosophy that what is good for them is good for the team and (as an example) what team couldn’t use a 100 RBI man? If everybody felt as that player did and everybody in the everyday lineup got to 100 RBI then chances are good that they’d win the division--right?

On the surface it seems logical but in reality it doesn’t work because sometimes the goals of one player (100 RBI) comes at the expense of another player’s goal (100 RBI) and frictions develop, finger pointing begins, accusations of selfish play begin and hopes of winning it all begin to dwindle.

Remember--these guys are human; not accumulations of statistical data.

Getting back to the thoughts in the Torre/Verducci book that is what distinguished the 1996-2001 Yankees from the 2002-present Yankees; for the most part the team put together a group of very talented players and achieved a unity of purpose--winning it all regardless of the effects on individual numbers. After they lost the 2001 World Series to the Diamondbacks a lot of those core players moved on and a bunch of extremely talented players were added every year but often these players didn’t define winning the same way.

I’m not saying they didn’t want to win it all--they did; but to hear Torre tell it, they didn’t want to win it all at the expense of all other considerations. It seemed that men like Randy Johnson, Kevin Brown, Alex Rodriguez, Gary Sheffield, Carl Pavano, Raul Mondesi, Jeff Weaver, Kenny Lofton etc. had other goals, motivations and distractions which affected the team’s ability to perform at its optimal level.

As I said the other day--it’s an interesting look behind the scenes; I don’t necessarily accept it all as gospel but it does give some food for thought and an additional data point when analyzing success or failure and getting a better grasp on the so-called "intangibles."

Best Regards

John