On the subject of World Series victories, each manager in this Red Sox-Angels series can look you in the eye and say, "Been there; done that. More than once."
It's not the same kind of "more than once," of course, but it's multiple times, regardless, and there are innumerable people in baseball who envy them for their good fortune.
Mike Scioscia and Terry Francona are an interesting pair. They were born five months apart approximately 50 years ago. Francona made his major league debut at age 22 in 1981; Scioscia was 21 when he debuted in 1980.
Francona, the national College Player of the Year at Arizona, was the more heralded prospect. But knee injuries robbed him of just about everything as he drifted from the Expos to the Cubs to the Reds to the Indians to the Brewers in a career that ended in 1990 after 708 games and 1,731 at-bats.
There were occasional flashes of his collegiate greatness. He did hit over .300 three times in the majors: .321 in 131 at-bats in '82; .346 in 214 at-bats in '84; and .311 in 212 at-bats in '88. But he did so with little power (16 career homers) and he finished with a dreary career OPS of .651. He's self-deprecating about it all, and you never hear him complain about the knee troubles that prevented him from approximating the player he had been at Arizona.
Still, he's only human and you wonder how often he's sat around thinking about what might have been.
Scioscia was a much better player than people remember. A two-time All-Star ('89-90), he caught every one of his 1,441 games for the Dodgers, for whom he played from 1980-92. He wasn't all that much of a power guy, either (68 career homers), but he'll always be remembered for one clutch bomb, a game-tying two-run homer in the ninth off Doc Gooden in Game 4 of the 1988 National League Championship Series. The Dodgers eventually prevailed in 12 to even a series they would win in seven games, and the only reason it isn't remembered as The Hit of the '88 postseason is that Kirk Gibson submitted a rather famous home run off Dennis Eckersley in Game 1 of the World Series.
That homer, while clearly the biggest hit of Scioscia's career, was not his only contribution to the Dodgers' World Series cause in 1988. Scioscia hit .364 (8 for 22) in that series.
One final thing about Mike Scioscia as a player: He was very difficult to strike out. He only whiffed 307 times in 4,373 career at-bats, and actually once led the National League in that category, striking out once every 20.1 at-bats in 1987. His career high in strikeouts was 32, a weekend total for Mark Reynolds.
The Dodgers won that 1988 Series, and that gave Scioscia two rings, for he also picked up a ring as a member of the world champion 1981 Dodgers, who defeated Francona's Montreal Expos in the NLCS before knocking off the Yankees in the big one.
Francona made one appearance in that NLCS. He struck out. He never appeared in the postseason as a player again.
In time, each man became a major league manager, and once again Scioscia beat Francona to the punch, as the Angels beat Barry Bonds and the San Francisco Giants to win the 2002 World Series. This made him a member of a fairly exclusive club: Men who have won World Series as a player and a manager.
And so Scioscia is well-qualified to discourse on the subject. He knows what it's like to win one as a fringe player ('81), he knows what it's like to win one as a key component ('88), and he knows what it's like to win one as a manager ('02).
"It's more impulsive eating when you're a manager," he said with a laugh. "I've noticed that. As far as winning as a manager or a player, this is a no-brainer. It's as a player. This game is about playing it. When you're in the backyard playing with your friends or your brother and you're out there and you're making up those games, you're the guy that's up there in the batter's box in the bottom of the ninth with two outs that hit the grand slam, not the manager that makes the pitching change that hopefully wins the game.
"So this game is about playing it," he said. "I was blessed to play on two championship teams, with the Dodgers in '81 and '88 as a player. Those I hold in high regard because it's done with your friends, and you've accomplished, really, what this game is all about -- playing it."
Francona certainly understands what his managerial foe is talking about, but he has one-upped Scioscia in one significant respect. He has managed two Red Sox teams to a World Series championship, and not many people working can make that claim.
The obvious question for him is, "What's the difference in feeling and satisfaction between the first title and the second title -- if any?"
"I think in '04 I was a little naive," Francona acknowledges. "I was going through it. You know, winning is so hard, anyway, but, again, I hadn't really lived through the whole atmosphere here."
Consider that after all the years, and all the history and all the frustrations and all the very good Red Sox teams and managers who could not get the job done, Terry Francona was the man whose team did it. That alone would have enabled him to dine out gratis in this town for the rest of his life.
But he is here to tell you there is life, and a very sweet life, even after accomplishing such a feat. Under very different circumstances, with many new players and new dynamics all around, Francona was able to steer another Red Sox team home safely.
"If anything," he says, "winning is almost kind of addicting. Once you've won, it's like you want to win worse again the next time. It's not like you won once and you think, 'Oh, we won.' You recognize how hard it is, but the hunger, it's like, once you felt it, you want it again and you almost want it worse."
Their playing days are over, so Francona never will be able to replicate the feeling Scioscia had while winning those championships with the Dodgers. But in their current guises as managers, Terry Francona has been where Mike Scioscia has not.
That sounds like a draw, a draw between two very good men.![]()


