They weren’t anyone’s Boys of Spring, much less Boys of Summer, and on the 20th anniversary of the birth of the last Yankees dynasty, Joe Torre remembers it all, remembers them all.
He was greeted in spring training 1996 at Legends Field as the clueless, journeyman afterthought manager, as far as you could get from Cooperstown, and Derek Jeter and Mariano Rivera had yet to begin their iconic march to Monument Park, and there was no Core Four.
In fact, there was trepidation about the rookie shortstop who wasn’t even Mr. March, much less Mr. November.
“I never saw any evidence that he was worried about being sent out or whatever,” Torre recalled over the phone. “I was very impressed with just the way he carried himself.”
But George Steinbrenner was interested in a trade for veteran shortstop Felix Fermin. A trade that could have cost Torre and new GM Bob Watson.
“It was just a suggestion,” Torre said. “I don’t think it ever really gained any momentum. I think Stick Michael was probably more of an influence. He knew Jeter a lot more and a lot better than I did.”
Torre wasn’t in favor of sending Jeter to the minors.
“I was dead set against that,” Torre said. “‘It’s too late now. Let’s start the season, if we have to make a change we’ll make a change.'”
John Wetteland was the closer.
“Mariano was sort of a wild card for us,” Torre said. “We had Wetteland, and we had [Bob] Wickman. Mariano, we didn’t know really where he’d fit. And then, of course, we came upon the formula of having him pitch out of the bullpen and be the setup man and not only be a setup man by today’s standards of pitching one, but he pitched two [innings] every day, which was pretty remarkable. It really helped me my first year, I only had to manage six innings.”
Joe Girardi’s first spring training as a Yankee was a great help behind the plate, especially when David Cone suffered his aneurysm in May.
“If we were gonna win, we were gonna do it with our pitching, and I felt I wanted a catcher who was a defensive guy, and I always admired Girardi from afar,” Torre said. “He was my first suggestion as far as who I would like to acquire. He was a grown-up coming into our situation, and really took charge.”
Jorge Posada wasn’t yet Jorge Posada.
“I knew we weren’t gonna have him because we had [Jim] Leyritz,” Torre said. “He grew a great deal, became a leader on his own. But ’96, you could see just from his makeup, he was gonna be a passionate-type guy on the ballclub.”
Tino Martinez was trying too hard to fill Don Mattingly’s shoes.
“He was squeezing the sawdust out of those bats,” Torre said. “All you try to do in those cases is just let him know that you believe in him.”
Paul O’Neill was a lion.
“Somebody made a comment to me that he’s selfish,” Torre said. “I realized that the only thing that was selfish about Paul O’Neill was he wanted to get a hit every time up. Another serious-minded guy. You couldn’t help but fall in love with him, and I think Steinbrenner hit it on the head when he nicknamed him The Warrior because he certainly was that.”
Bernie Williams was a lamb.
“Bernie was the guy with the glasses, with that sort of faraway look,” Torre said. “He was special. Probably of all the players, our relationship was probably the closest of any of them. He just sort of craved that type of relationship. He didn’t realize how good a player he was. I sprung it on him later in the year that he was a leader, and he couldn’t believe I said that. I said, ‘You go out there and play every day, I never have to worry about when you come to the ballpark if you’re available for us,’ because he always was. He was a warrior in his own way.”
Torre made sure to keep The Boss informed.
“I remember kidding with him at the end of spring training ’cause we were playing a series against the Mets, and then we were gonna play in Cleveland to open the season.” Torre said. “And he says how important it is to beat the Mets. And I said to him, ‘Let me ask you a question, George: If you had a choice of beating the Mets, or going up there and winning the first series in Cleveland, which one would you choose?’ He said, ‘Don’t ask me that.’ ”
Torre chuckles at the memory.
“My brother Frank wasn’t sure he wanted me to take this job, and I said, ‘I’m gonna find out if I can manage or not,’ ” Torre said. “And George was George. He didn’t intimidate me because I just felt that I’m gonna do what I did, I’d been fired three times so it’s nothing new for me. … [Steinbrenner would] tell me, ‘You’re my guy,’ and I knew how far I could count on that. I was realistic about it. I was basically gonna pay attention to what I had to do. I wasn’t there to try to satisfy anybody.”
Only himself.
“It wears on you when people tell you that you’re a players’ manager, you’re a players’ manager, you gotta do something different, blah blah blah,” Torre said.
He was nervous before his first team address, when he announced that against all odds he wanted to win three consecutive championships.
“I remember being on the StairMaster, and I was reading Bill Parcells’ management book, and this one chapter grabbed me when it said, ‘If you believe in what you’re doing, don’t change,’ ” Torre said. “And then I just closed the book, and that was basically it, because the only thing I was thinking of changing is maybe I have to be a little tougher, but I knew over time that your personality has to come out. And to try to be something you weren’t wasn’t gonna work.”
It worked. Boy, did it work. Happy anniversary.
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