M’s skipper slaps Yanks
M’s skipper erupts over Yank comments about Cano’s lack of hustle
Irate Mariners manager Lloyd McClendon (l.) says Yankee coach Kevin Long (r.) stepped over line by commenting in Monday’s Daily News about exBomber Robbie Cano’s habit of not running out ground balls. ‘I didn’t know Kevin Long was the spokesman for the Yankees,’ McClendon says.
PEORIA, Ariz. — Watching Robinson Cano dance and laugh and celebrate with the Dominican Republic team during last year’s World Baseball Classic, one longtime American League coach was struck by an insight, and shared it earlier this year. “He looked like he was having so much fun,” said the coach, who worked for many years in winter ball in the Dominican, where he saw a far more demonstrative style of play than MLB offers. “That’s the kind of environment he needs to be to truly great, and be himself. You can’t do that (with the Yankees).”
It was a fascinating question: If it weren’t for all those stifling Yankee rules and expectations, if he wasn’t in Derek Jeter’s dull clubhouse, if he could let his beard grow and freak flag fly, would Cano emerge as a more dynamic presence? Would his personality blossom in another environment?
On Cano’s first day as a Seattle Mariner, his actions indicated that no, he would not become any more vocal or interesting than he was during the nine years that he failed to stir either love or hate in New Yorkers, a tough trick to pull in our opinionated town.
Presented on Tuesday with an opportunity to grab hold of a major story, bite back at a critic and assert himself as an alpha presence, Cano demurred, as he usually does. The potential for fun stemmed from John Harper’s Monday column in the Daily News, in which Yankees hitting coach Kevin Long addressed Cano’s habit of not running hard to first base on groundouts and pop-ups.
“If somebody told me I was a dog,” Long told Harper, “I’d have to fix that. When you choose not to, you leave yourself open to taking heat, and that’s your fault. For whatever reason, Robbie chose not to.’’
Long cares for Cano, and lavished many compliments on him in the same interview. But the “dog” stuff turned into a major national story, and rankled some in Mariners camp, especially new manager Lloyd McClendon.
“Any time someone attacks one of my players, I’m going to defend him,” McClendon said. “And if you don’t like it, tough s---.”
Cano could have taken a similar swing, but that’s just not his style; whether in New York or Seattle or Arizona, it seems his nature to sidestep attention, not embrace it. As I began my question about the subject, Cano — who spent the rest of the session smiling and relaxed — immediately stiffened.
Having clearly decided in advance to cut off all inquiries about Long, he said, “I mean, I don’t even pay attention to that. Like I said, I just want to talk about Seattle. I’m here now. Whatever they said, I’m not going to pay attention to that.”
And that was it. Not “I’ll put my effort against anyone’s.” Not “I don’t understand why Kevin would say that, he knows how hard I work.” Just 15 minutes of fluff in a news conference devoid of news value. It is Cano’s right to say whatever he wants, of course. As Mariners GM Jack Zduriencik put it to me, “We’re looking for Robinson to be Robinson, that’s all. I don’t think you’re asking anybody to go outside who they are. We signed him because of the player that he is — his ability, his experience. What he is, he is, and we think he’s a hell of a player.”
But with an enormous contract comes the expectation of clubhouse leadership, and a face-of-the franchise persona. And many in baseball remain curious if there is more to Cano than what we have seen so far. Like the AL coach who was entertained by the second baseman’s uncharacteristic WBC antics, McClendon himself was struck while watching those games. “I saw passion,” he said. “I saw enthusiasm. I saw tremendous desire to win. And I saw his teammates rally around him as a result of the passion that he displayed in the WBC.”
On the first day of the rest of his career, Cano retreated back into the cultivated blandness that defined his time in New York. His Jeterian media training evident, he deftly turned nearly every answer into a version of “I’m just happy to be here.” Cano flashed true personality just once, when asked about the chinstrap beard that he is finally allowed to grow, now that he is free of that ridiculous Yankee rule. “Now I know I don’t have to shave every two days,” he said, with a grin that expanded into a broad smile. A moment later, someone mentioned that the beard looked like David Ortiz’s. “Not Ortiz,” Cano said, still beaming. “This is Robbie Cano right here.”
And there it was, a fleeting glimpse of what some baseball men still think might be buried under layers of reluctance and media training: A proud character, an interesting guy, a man unafraid to assert his identity.
Any time anybody attacks one of my players, then I’m going t odefend him,and if you don’t like it, tough s---.