The first domino falls: Francona resigns as manager of Red Sox

Terry Francona has resigned as manager of the Boston Red Sox. (Reuters//Brian Snyder/Files)

When the thought of Terry Francona leaving the Boston Red Sox surfaced weeks ago, it seemed rather ridiculous. Yet, speculation believed to be very far-fetched shockingly turned into a reality.

He has left, mutually agreeing with the team to part ways on Friday–two days after Boston put the finishing touches on a crummy month to miss the postseason. He wanted out. And, in his mind, he had good reason to. But did he really?

During Friday’s press conference, he delved into why he made the decision to resign:

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“We talked about a lot of different things,” he said, referring to Friday morning’s meeting with General Manager Theo Epstein, Owner John Henry, Team President Larry Lucchino, and Chairman Tom Werner. “I think they wanted to know how I felt about coming back. I think that’s probably a fair way to put it. I told them a lot of things that were on my mind, we talked obviously a lot about the organization, and then the team, and what went right, what didn’t go right, and then I told them I thought it was time for a new voice. And that’s not an easy thing to say. But I thought it was the right thing to do.”

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Some people in the media are saying he shouldn’t have made such a rash decision. Maybe it wasn’t rash. His departure could have been planned months ago. Maybe he just wanted a change in scenery.

Or his thoughts of leaving could have started in September. This desire could have increased if he sensed there was a lack of focus and dedication from some of the Red Sox. There may be something to this theory. After all, it is telling that, per The Boston Globe‘s Pete Abraham, only Dustin Pedroia and Jarrod Saltalamacchia routinely showed up for optional batting practice.

Francona said he “felt frustrated, my inability to reach maybe guys I’ve been able to in the past.” That corroborates with the lack of Red Sox at optional batting practice. If they didn’t want to connect with him, that is really saddening and means he was driven out of Beantown. He’s been one of the best managers in baseball over the past eight years. He is the only manager to win two World Series during his tenure with Boston. How can you not listen to him, especially when he is trying to build a team that can win what every player is after, a championship?

Some players may support him, but why should he continue to manage a team that might not? Not one player genuinely spoke up and defended Francona’s managing as he was contemplating his departure. And not one player attended his press conference on Friday to show their allegiance.

They may not have entirely cared for him, and he thinks they didn’t entirely care for each other:

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“I don’t want to ever forget, a month ago, we were on pace to win about a hundred games,” Francona said. “When things started to go, I wanted desperately for our guys to care about each other on the field, I think I’ve referenced that a few times. I wasn’t seeing that as much as I wanted to, and I tried … what I thought I tried to help make that better, the coaches also, just wasn’t ever comfortable.”

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There is no way the team’s demise deserves to fall on his shoulders. Something may have gone on behind the scenes, perhaps a rift with players or management. Yet, putting these speculations aside, players play, and coaches try to manage those players. And managers trust them to perform at their highest level–to come up clutch at the plate, to play well defensively, to pitch effectively and deep into games, and to close wins out. Some Red Sox did in September, but many consistently failed to produce.

The players who made up Boston’s 2011 team all know how to play. And for the summer months they were on top of their game. Yet, come September, they just weren’t. Were opponents just too tough? Were the Red Sox not focused? Players have always been creatures of habit. They can choose to break that habit. Was this really the case?

It is difficult to say if their struggles were deliberate. Again, everything here is based on speculation and interpretation. To me, it looked like some players weren’t trying their hardest. David Ortiz, after calling out his team during the slump’s early days, made many mistakes on the basepaths. When his drives to the warning track were caught, when he struck out, when he crushed grounders into the shift, he was really down. Yet, he was laughing the time away with opposing first basemen after reaching on singles or walks. Adrian Gonzalez was also having a grand old time with the opposition, notably gabbing with Mark Reynolds in the season’s final game. What the heck was that all about? How could Francona not be mad at those actions?

These are just a few cases. The vast majority of Red Sox seemed to give everything they had, purely focused on the task at hand. Ortiz and Gonzalez hit well during September, but their actions sure created an unsettling perception of their mentality.

Maybe the Red Sox panicked early on, thinking too much and trying not to lose. Losing many games in a row, blowing leads and getting blown out, certainly appeared to have a resounding effect on the collective mentality. Maybe their tightness and lack of execution was because they were trying too hard. In watching many games and reading quotes from recaps after their 20 September losses, it was evident they wanted to end the slide and make the postseason. Their frustration over the recurring nightmare was clear. Could they have just been too mad at their play to listen to Francona? Could they have told him, ‘we know what we have to do’? Was Francona inclined not to believe them if he deemed their attitude undesirable? Did he lose faith in his team?

Who knows. And who knows what happened to fuel his departure. No matter what did, he will be dearly missed. Losing him is a huge blow to Boston.

He was tremendous. I will always remember Francona’s chats with Ortiz on the dugout’s top step, his great one-liners with the media, the way he came to greet players after home-runs, and how he subtly paced when the Red Sox were in a jam. He helped end the Curse of the Bambino, dealt with Manny Ramirez and other strange characters, brought a second World Series championship with many new faces, and consistently put together a contender. And now he’s gone.

“Tito is family to me,” Pedroia said. “It’s hard for all of us. I could run through a wall if he told me to.” Maybe if others would have done the same Francona might still be around. As it is, what was so recently thought unthinkable has happened. What a shame.