Confirmed winner and tough guy Lou Piniella put on a Cubs jersey and cap Tuesday and it was a jarring sight, like walking in on a friend wearing his wife’s underwear.
This is going to take some serious getting used to.
Piniella showed up at Wrigley Field on time, but he won’t arrive truly until we see him unshaven, wild-eyed, a bit unhinged, just a degree or two off center. As much as any of the perceptions about him, that one fits our needs perfectly, and it’s why his introductory news conference seemed so strange.
He talked about the ivy and the Bleacher Bums and dismissed the curses and the 98 years of dryness, because that’s what a new Cubs manager is supposed to do. He wanted to fit in, but unless somebody finds a way to turn iron into cotton candy, it’s going to take a while. A Yankee doesn’t become a Cub just like that.
Trust us, saying the words “Friendly Confines” in front of a guy who has known little but hard-earned success will make you feel less a man, less a woman and probably less a house pet.
Everything that fell under Piniella’s shadow Tuesday seemed a bit quaint and corny, seemed like it should have been concealed. You couldn’t help but be embarrassed for the sideshow that has gone on with all the losing over the years. There was the obligatory Ronnie Wickers appearance outside the park, and every fiber of your being wanted to hide him from Piniella before the first “Woo” escaped–for the good of both men.
Piniella is not a tyrant. He is not, as far as anyone knows, into corporal punishment. He is, however, as serious as last rites when it comes to winning.
“We’re going to win here,” he said. “That’s really the end of the story.”
And the end of the world, should it happen.
No managerial approach will work if a team doesn’t have good players, so the Cubs could hire the ghost of Joe McCarthy and it won’t make a difference unless general manager Jim Hendry gets busy.
The possibility of acquiring Alex Rodriguez or signing Alfonso Soriano makes for interesting discussions, but the Cubs need starting pitching, and after that they need more starting pitching. Hendry talked Tuesday about wanting to bring back the oft-injured Kerry Wood, but whether he should or shouldn’t needs to be so far in the back of Hendry’s mind right now it can feel hair.
He needs to find help for Carlos Zambrano. Healthy, productive help.
And how many times can this be said: It’s not the budget, it’s how the budget is spent. Tribune Co. is said to have agreed to bump the Cubs’ payroll near $115 million, which is fine, great, wonderful. But they should have been able to win with $95 million last season.
Oops. Did I mention last season?
“From this day on, we’re interested in moving forward in a positive fashion, not looking back at all, not focusing on any negativity,” Hendry said.
Sorry, it doesn’t work that way, not here, where the past is lashed so tightly to the present. Piniella must free himself and the franchise from nearly 100 years of solitude.
“You learn from the past but you dwell in the present and you look forward to the future with tremendous anticipation,” Piniella said, sounding like a man who had been practicing in front of the mirror. “I’m dwelling in the present.”
No matter what he says, Piniella understands the moment and why he’s here. He showed up wearing his 1977 Yankees World Series ring. It’s one of two he won as a player. He has another from 1990, when he was the Reds’ manager.
“Believe me, I’m just a small, small cog in this thing here,” he said.
Sure you are, Lou. Sure you are.
He slipped and said the White Sox were from the North Side. He talked about all the shopping opportunities on “the Michigan Mile.” He said the best way to improve the Cubs’ on-base percentage would be to get “eight midgets up there that walk all the time.” Yes, operator, can I get the number for the Little People of America organization?
But none of it seemed to matter Tuesday. Piniella can call the Sears Tower the Old Navy Tower and if the Cubs win, nobody will care.
He’s 63. He said he’s itching to get started after a year of working for Fox, after a year away from managing. He said he’s still demanding. Go ahead and try to tell him he’s not.
If–when–Piniella goes down, it’s not going to be in a wave of sentimentality about Cubbiness, about the privilege of managing the Cubs, about the joy of day games. It can’t be. Not with a Cubs-Piniella combination. This is going to turn out to be either very good or very bad.
“I’m a fiery manager,” he said.
Let the combusting begin.
———-
rmorrissey@tribune.com
