The Strategery of Charles F. Manuel

First things first: Charlie Manuel is a well-liked individual. Until Freddy Garcia's Jimmy Carter-esque "crisis of confidence," Manuel's players have avoided public criticism of their manager. Plus he was damn right about Garcia. The point is that there is a lot that the fans and, I suspect, even the media don't see when it comes to the way Uncle Cholly relates to his charges.

That's why it's so unfortunate that Manuel isn't such a great on-field tactician. In-game strategy is perhaps the most visible function of a big-league manager. It's also the most tangible one in the minds of the aforementioned fans and media--the decisions made in the moment, directly contributing to wins and losses are impossible to ignore. Just ask Grady Little. Nobody cares how Manuel is helping to tweak Ryan Howard's swing in BP while he continues to platoon Rod Barajas with Carlos Ruiz.

(The man does know about hitting. He is often credited with fixing Jim Thome's swing, though that may be something of a mixed blessing as Thome has mutated into a Dave Kingman-type player over the last decade. Just be careful, Ryan!)

It also doesn't help that Charlie went to the George W. Bush School of Public Speaking. I think this causes us to judge his strategic moves a little more harshly than we normally would. Tony LaRussa is an absolute putz when it comes to managerial strategy, but since he's articulate and respected for winning so many games in a weak division with juuuust enough talent, he gets a 300-page ego stroke from Buzz Bissinger.

Basically, I like to think that there are two sides to Manuel the manager. One is the private sage, a sort of offensive savant who, anywhere he goes, makes sure his team does not fail to score runs. The other is the public bumpkin, out-maneuvered by his opponents and second-guessed by an equally caustic press corps and fanbase. This season, I'm afraid that we're seeing the weaker half much more often than the stronger half.

The games on Wednesday and Thursday against the Reds presented two nearly identical situations: with the Phillies trailing late in a torrential downpour, a Phils slugger is called out on a questionable strike three. Both incidents were suspicious enough to assume the umps were fudging some calls to move the game quickly to its conclusion, or end an inning so they could award the Reds an official victory on account of the weather. Both times, the batters in question (Howard and Burrell) had their own choice words for the home plate umpire.

But neither time did Manuel, the man leading the majors in ejections, even come out of the dugout to protest. The outcome of each game was still clearly in the balance. The Phillies were risking two losses despite playing less than nine full innings each time. If that isn't a time to get in the umpire's face and, at the very least, bring attention to the officiating crew's attempts to cut corners, then I don't know what is. Even as a simple stalling tactic, an ejection has merit in this situation.

Luckily for Charlie, both situations ultimately resolved themselves in beneficent confidences of dumb luck. This guy's like a real-life Forrest Gump--a cornpone messiah, if you will. After Howard's strikeout on Wednesday, Jose Mesa gave up a homer to put the game out of reach anyway. On Thursday, Jimmy Rollins keyed the tying and winning rallies, despite Manuel waiting until the last possible moment to substitute Jayson Werth as a pinch runner for Barajas--a decision he balked at since Werth went on the DL yesterday. Turns out the Phillies didn't want to change the retroactive date to Thursday instead of Tuesday, which is the last time Werth had been in a game.

It's Jayson Werth, people. I think we'll keep the ship afloat even if he comes back a couple days later than expected.

Werth's roster replacement, the immortal Chris Coste, homered in his first plate appearance. Figures.