CHICAGO — You’ve got to have thick skin to be a major-league manager, and no one alive has managed more major-league games than Tony La Russa.
But being booed by your own fans has to sting a little, even for someone as grizzled as La Russa.
So I asked the Chicago White Sox manager before Sunday’s 8-6 loss to the Texas Rangers in 12 innings whether the booing had any effect on him.
“Didn’t you ask me about that yesterday?” he replied.
That was more a question about “the chanting,” I said, referring to the “Fire Tony” chants during the 10th inning of an 11-9 loss Saturday to the Rangers.
This was a brand new day and a brand new question, albeit the same subject matter — fans’ discontent with the White Sox manager.
“Well, same difference,” he said. “So I’ll say what I said (Saturday). I’m glad the fans are here. Whatever their honest feeling is, have at it. I’ve managed a long time. There have been times where people have not been pleased with the job I do, so, just do your best.”
So you just have to have tough skin?
“I’m not going to get into that,” he said. “My tough skin is our team against their team and getting beat and seeing the disappointment, not just in the fans but in our players that worked hard to get that win. And they’ve worked hard to stay close to .500, and now we’re still taking hits (with injuries).
“I can’t have more admiration and more respect for guys in this uniform. I felt worse for them.”
The “manager watch” has been a staple of baseball writing for well over a century. I’ve had to cover quite a few of them during my Tribune career, including hot seat updates on Sox managers Gene Lamont, Terry Bevington, Jerry Manuel, Robin Ventura and Rick Renteria, and Cubs managers Jim Riggleman, Dusty Baker, Mike Quade, Dale Sveum and Joe Maddon.
It’s uncomfortable for everyone involved, especially when you’re 99% sure the manager is a goner, as Baker, Ventura, Quade and Maddon all seemed during their final seasons in Chicago. Most of the managers on the proverbial hot seat handled the situation well, keeping it professional with media members. La Russa is no different.
But this is the first manager watch I’ve experienced where everyone knows the manager won’t be fired, no matter how much the team struggles or the fan base vents. That’s what makes La Russa an outlier among major-league managers, who know they’re hired to be fired. Chairman Jerry Reinsdorf can’t fire a Hall of Famer twice, right?
La Russa believes Sox fans will respond with more positivity when the team starts winning consistently.
“If we take care of everything down there, in the end the results will be (good) and the fans will be pleased,” he said. “Because I know they like this club.”
Then a right knee injury to Michael Kopech 13 pitches into Sunday’s game forced his removal and gave the Sox another obstacle to overcome to climb back to .500. The schedule may get easier, but the body blows are mounting.
The Sox hope the renewed focus on La Russa, which began Thursday with the intentional walk to the Los Angeles Dodgers’ Trea Turner on a 1-2 count, will blow over by the time the team returns from its six-game trip to Detroit and Houston. If not, fan discontent will undoubtedly grow stronger as the season goes on.
And that’s something reporters can’t ignore, even if it means asking uncomfortable questions.
Not everyone gets to write his or her own happy ending. La Russa no doubt expected to do just that when he signed on in 2020, nine seasons removed from sitting in the dugout in St. Louis. Bulls great Michael Jordan ended his career with the Washington Wizards instead of finishing it with “The Shot” in Game 6 of the 1998 NBA Finals.
You risk putting a dent in your legacy by attempting a comeback after a stellar career ends. La Russa was well aware of the pitfalls but made the jump anyway with a team built to win now.
It still might work out, but every week the prospects look grimmer.
At least La Russa got through an entire first season and two months into his second year before being booed by disgruntled Sox fans. It always has been a tough crowd, as history suggests. Sox fans unleashed on La Russa on opening day in 1986 at old Comiskey Park before the first game even began.
“The home fans booed their own manager, their starting pitcher and one of their relief pitchers during introductions,” Tribune reporter Phil Hersh wrote that day. “After a prolonged snooze, they booed the final out of a 5-3 White Sox loss to Milwaukee.”
The starting pitcher for the Sox was Tom Seaver, another eventual Hall of Famer. At least La Russa was in good company.
And if it’s any consolation, La Russa also was booed many times during the 1983 season before the Sox took off and cruised to the American League West title.
“You got to admire the way he stood up to all that pressure,” catcher Marc Hill told the Tribune’s Bob Verdi the day the Sox’s magic number to clinch in 1983 was reduced to one. “The owner criticizing him, the press, the guys on radio, the fans booing him. But he never cracked. Never. If he cracks, maybe we cracked too. But he just kept on being himself. If he was in trouble, he never acted it.”
La Russa said that day he had his law degree to fall back on if he had been fired by the Sox, adding he wasn’t concerned about being “second guessed in the newspaper” or “booed when you go out to the mound.”
“All I can hope for is that some day I’ll earn the benefit of the doubt,” he said. “That when I go out to change pitchers, maybe the people will say, ‘Well, maybe he knows what he’s doing.’ Do you have to be 16 games up or win your division before you get that? I don’t know.”
La Russa went on to become the second-winningest manager in baseball history behind Connie Mack. Yet he’s still subject to booing, like every other manager and player in the game.
That’s the beauty of baseball.
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