It starts with a hug and some batting practice, a bunt to the left and the right, a bemused expression when a 55-mph fastball with the slightest cut is all it takes to inspire a pathetic jam shot. It starts under low clouds, a whole baseball season out there somewhere, Bryant in the cage, Rizzo and Heyward and Zobrist on the rail, fungoed baseballs crisscrossing the diamond. It starts with David Ross, the happiest soon-to-be-39-year-old catcher ever, spotting what we could only assume to be a video or numbers guy and shouting, “You’re not allowed outside until you’ve got Anaheim locked in! You’re not allowed to see the sunlight!” because the Chicago Cubs open against the Angels in 45 days, and this all feels lively and fun and meaningful again. It feels relevant. And if someone up there plans on making this tragic again, too, well, nobody’s going to think about that at the start.
Three-and-a-half months ago they’d stood in front of their dugout with their caps held to the sky. Those who hadn’t left Wrigley Field, at least those hadn’t dashed to the first-base side for a closer view of the celebrating New York Mets, hollered their love for the team that had improved by 24 wins and then advanced to the National League championship series. The plan, the process, the rebuild, the overhaul, whatever it was, had pulled the Cubs from their organizational rut. And while it had ended pretty much where the previous 105 had, at least there was a future to root for, one that couldn’t be presumed to include arch dissatisfaction with their luckless franchise.
So, yeah, maybe it’s a little different here, where prior expectations for winning big were an invitation for regretting bigger. You know, so far as we can tell. Good teams sometimes lose a lot. Ninety-seven-win teams don’t very often get better. Usually that’s the best of it for a while, except these Cubs just barely got here, and some of the holes have been filled with more capable players, and the manager is in there preaching the gospel of today, of team, of sacrifice, of glory, of respect, of havin’ a really good stinkin’ time.
He calls it, “Embrace the Target,” and apparently you have to be a Tom Clancy reader and Jack Ryan fan to totally get it, but there’s two ways to interpret that. One, the target the Cubs are trying to hit. It’s moving, of course. And it’s a long way off. And everybody else is shooting at it too. Two, the target the Cubs wear between their shoulder blades.
Joe Maddon is a master of the 20-minute explanation whittled to something that fits smartly on a T-shirt. “Embrace the Target” it is. He sat late Friday morning at a table in the media room here, team president Theo Epstein to his right, general manager Jed Hoyer to his left. He hadn’t shaved in a bit. His hair had its own ideas.
Last year was cool, he said, and probably where everybody was getting their ideas about what the Cubs would be this year, but the past ain’t moving a runner to third with less than two out.
“I’m not a dweller,” he said, before amending that, “I dwell in an RV right now.”
Otherwise, no dwelling.
Sunny expectations have never been productive for the Cubs before. Course, neither have dire expectations. Or, for that matter, no expectations. Frankly, little has worked. So maybe … hmmm … it doesn’t matter?
“The point is to get the right words out there to get our guys thinking in the proper direction,” Maddon said. “Whether you want to talk about expectations, the word ‘pressure,’ whatever you want to talk about. Just try to get us to utilize all these different words in the right direction. Put the positive and proper meaning on all of them.
“Our guys, they’re gonna process this properly. It’s all about processing the day properly. You never take anything for granted, you never become complacent, because we’ve not accomplished our ultimate goal yet anyway. So, it’s coming off of a really good season. There’s a lot to be proud of, but there’s so much more to accomplish.”
Play the game …
“I don’t want us to become outcome-biased, or outcome-based,” Maddon continued. “Yes, talk about playoffs. Yes, talk about winning the division. Yes, talk about playing the last game of the season and winning it. But, you don’t want to just get caught up in that thought. It’s how do you do that? That’s where I’ve really been focused on.”
… and welcome what’s out there, what’s coming, whatever it is.
“What does that mean?” he said. “You talk about the expectations and the word ‘pressure’ that are attached to it, which I believe are really positive words. So you take those concepts … and what does that lead to? To me, that leads to really focusing on the day, focusing on the process of the day, and the process needs to be our anchor. So you hear all this noise coming from without to within, a lot of really nice things. There’s nothing to be upset about. People are saying really nice things about us. That’s good. But at the end of the day we have to take care of our business. … So, yes, the message is going to be to play the last game of the season and win it.”
But, moreover, way less.
So, it starts with a few laps around the park and some long-toss and David Ross’ new neon yellow shoes, the perception of speed. It starts with showing up and accepting the new reality. They’re going to be good. They have to be good. The target is them.
Besides, Kris Bryant said with a smile, because when you’re young everything is so simple, “You can only go so long without playing baseball.”
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