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At the least, Randolph deserved a dignified exit

Shaun Powell

June 18, 2008

You can certainly find folks who thought Willie Randolph was a lousy manager, and folks who thought Randolph was dealt a bad hand as a manager. But you can't find anyone around here who didn't want Randolph to work out as a manager.

Here in the wake of a hideously handled firing of a good man, job performance aside, what happened to Randolph can be described, strictly in sports terms, as a local baseball tragedy. A poor kid from the projects in Brownsville, who grew up rooting for the Mets, who starred with the Yankees, who waited years to land a job, who became the first black man to manage a New York baseball team and who came a Carlos Beltran called third strike away from reaching the World Series in 2006 was cut loose, like he was another Art Howe.

Yes, today is not one for celebration, for a few reasons: The Mets are an utter joke of a franchise, just as they were before Randolph arrived, and because he didn't work out, New York baseball just absorbed the equivalent of a beaning.

This isn't to say Randolph didn't deserve to be fired. Once you get over the doofus way the Mets executed him, ultimately, he was held to the bottom line, like all managers.

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This is only to say Randolph, of all people, given his unique circumstances, deserved a storybook tale and finish.

"I love Willie Randolph," an exasperated Mets GM Omar Minaya said. "But this isn't about love."

No, for Minaya, firing Randolph was about getting wins and getting Jeff Wilpon off his case.

In a perfect New York world, Beltran would've connected in the bottom of the ninth in Game 7 against the Cardinals in the NL Championship Series and we wouldn't be having this discussion today. A berth in the 2006 World Series would've given Randolph enough of a cushion against the historic collapse the Mets suffered the next September. A berth in the World Series would've kept Wilpon, privileged son of the owner, on his leash.

One hit would've changed everything, but it didn't happen, and that's why baseball is a funny game, even though what ultimately happened to Randolph from that point on was anything but hilarious.

When the Mets hired Randolph, the situation seemed a perfect fit. Randolph was coming from the Yankees, where he served as a bench coach under Joe Torre and on a staff that won four titles in five years. From an image standpoint, if nothing else, it appeared Queens was finally getting a taste of what the Bronx was like the last decade or so.

"I've been a winner all my life," Randolph said that day, not bragging but stating fact, and judging from the resume, who would doubt that?

For a melting pot metropolis that celebrates diversity every single day, there was appeal to the new face of the Mets, with Minaya, with Hispanic roots, hiring Randolph, who until then had kept coming up short in his managerial hunt. To celebrate his hiring, Randolph quickly decorated the walls of his office with Negro League stars and counted Rachel Robinson among his closest friends.

"He was not given an opportunity to manage, and I gave him that opportunity," Minaya said. "When you have that bond, there's a connection."

Randolph treated his players like grown men. He carried himself with dignity and pride, maybe even too much for some people. As a front man, Randolph was everything the Mets had hoped. As a manager, however, their view of him changed with the swiftness of a September swoon. Randolph was essentially fired not because of where the Mets sit now, but because of last fall, when they lost a seven-game lead with 17 to play.

Once again, the Mets under Randolph couldn't finish strong. Had the Mets reached the playoffs last fall, just as if Beltran had connected a year earlier, Randolph would still be the manager.

But it's over. A native son is now thrown in the managerial junk pile, mixed in that rubble with Jeff Torborg, Dallas Green, Buddy Harrelson and even Torre himself, all men who didn't do well enough in Queens, for whatever reason.

So the Mets are scratching their heads, swallowing their payroll and wondering when or if they'll ever get it right. They're back to being what they were before.

As for Randolph? He's back to where he was, too. Today, after this experience, he probably considers himself a Yankee again.

Randolph's numbers with Mets

302 wins