A manager has to convince his hitters that they have to get on base for the next guy and that no player can do it by himself. Sometimes that isn't easy. In the playoffs, you can get into trouble because everybody wants to be a hero.
The job of arguing with the umpire belongs to the manager, because it won't hurt the team if he gets thrown out of the game.
What else does a manager do but push buttons? He doesn't hit, he doesn't run, he doesn't throw, and he doesn't catch the ball. A manager has twenty-five players, or twenty-five buttons, and he selects which one he'll use, or push, that day. The manager who presses the right buttons most often is the one who wins the most games.
On my tombstone just write, 'The sorest loser that ever lived.'
A manager should stay as far away as possible from his players. I don't know if I said ten words to Frank Robinson while he played for me.
I used to be a pretty good hit-and-run man when I played in the minors. I handled the bat well and could hit the ball to the right side of the infield. Nevertheless, I know that you often give the opposition an out on the hit-and-run play.
