For Love of the Game: Davey Johnson Happy to Be Managing Again

DELAND, Fla. – Three hours before game time and the rain outside has sent manager Davey Johnson back to his combination office/locker room/shower stall, where he gets swallowed up by one of those itchy, polyester-covered couches that is so broken down it makes you feel like you're sitting in a big bean bag.

Half the bleachers outside have been closed for repair, but that's no problem because fewer than 100 people will come to watch later that night, mostly parents, girlfriends, and a handful of retirees with nowhere else to be.

Johnson grins because he knows what you're thinking, as he sinks deeper into the piece of furniture that could be as old as he is.

This is a long way – a long, long way – from Dodger Stadium.

"This is nice HERE,'' said Johnson, who won a World Series title both as a player in Baltimore and as a manager in New York. "Some places we play, there are no bathrooms. No nothing, This is still baseball. And I still love the game. I love being part of it.''

Johnson, 66, is managing the DeLand Suns in the Florida Collegiate Summer League, a no-frills, wooden-bat collection of five area teams filled with young college players trying to improve their skills. They are lucky to have him.

His competition includes the Clermont Mavericks, the Leesburg Lightning, the Winter Park Diamond Dogs and the Sanford River Rats, all within an hour's drive.

"Shoot, I've never been one who needed a gold spoon,'' he said. "My memory is fading a little, but I still remember riding buses for 13 hours to play a game. I remember playing high school games with no fences, where you couldn't see the outfielders because the heat was so bad. I played in Japan, where you packed your own bags and carried them yourself. None of that ever bothered me. Still doesn't.''

Johnson was once considered the best manager in all of baseball, working with a swagger when he guided the New York Mets (1986) to a World Series championship. He followed it by winning divisional titles with the Baltimore Orioles and Cincinnati Reds. He left the big leagues in 2000 after his time with the Los Angeles Dodgers. He was fired in all four cities, often clashing with ownership after running through walls to side with his players.

He still might be the best manager today who isn't coaching in the big leagues.

"I would consider it [going back to the major leagues], but I'm not reaching out. That's not who I am,'' he said. "It's like when Frank Cashen first hired me in New York. When they introduced me at a press conference for the first time, I said 'I really like working for smart people.' He was smart enough to hire me.''

Johnson finished his stint with USA Baseball when he managed in the World Baseball Classic, a follow-up to his 2008 Bejing Olympic Games in which his USA team won a bronze medal.

At the WBC, he was managing Derek Jeter, David Wright and Jimmy Rollins. They played some games at Dodger Stadium. Today he is managing Corey Waters, Eric Holmes and Justin Zinkovich at Conrad Park.

"It doesn't really matter. Baseball isn't rocket science,'' he said. "I love working with the young kids, seeing how they develop. The game is the same at any level. Guys strike out, get hits, do poorly, do well at every level. People used to always say I did best with the veteran players, but that's not what I'm enjoying now.''

Johnson, who grew up nearby and has been living in Central Florida during winter months for his entire life, decided it was time to manage the kids after serving as a league consultant the past few years. The USA Baseball experience got his baseball blood flowing again.

Life outside the game wasn't very kind to Johnson after leaving the Dodgers. He had stomach surgery three times in 2004 and nearly died on the operating table when half his intestines were taken out after a misdiagnosis. His daughter, a nationally known surfer, died in 2005 from septic shock. Johnson was diagnosed with throat cancer in 2007, although he was lucky it was caught early.

"I've been blessed to be around baseball all these years,'' he said. "It's not something I taken for granted, either. I enjoyed my career in the big leagues, but I also have done this at most every level you could imagine.''

There have been plenty of frustrating moments this season, but also moments that make him smile, too. One day he found himself carrying out a box of rubber chickens for a promotional skit between innings. Another time, he was helping pull the tarp over the home plate area because there was no grounds crew for these fields. He never did that in the big leagues.

He was promised a 25-man roster when the season started, but mostly he gets 16-17 players as they come and go throughout the summer. Because of rainouts and scheduling quirks, he had six games in five days recently, but only four starting pitchers. At one point, his two best relief pitchers were a starting outfielder and a starting infielder.

"Next year, I might be in Little League somewhere because somebody will want me to manage their team. If they ask, I'd probably say yes. It is baseball."And he has learned that coaching college players is different than coaching professionals, especially the pitchers.

"I'm learning a lot, including a new language here,'' he laughed. "I like challenges, and this certainly has been one of them.''

During the games, Johnson doesn't act much differently than he did when he coached years ago. He has mellowed but some habits are hard to break. When the Suns are at bat, he's at the top step of the dugout, giving signals to his third-base coach, spraying a steady stream of tobacco juice at the same target every time.

When the Suns are in the field, he's back in his seat, yet his eyes never leave the field, his mind never stops thinking baseball. He is content on the baseball field – any baseball field.

As a player, he was the last batter to get a hit off the great Sandy Koufax in 1966. Hitting behind Hank Aaron in Atlanta in 1973, he hit 43 home runs, the most ever for a second baseman. And as a manager, he was both loved and criticized in New York, even after winning the World Series.

The difference now is that the owner loves him, something that wasn't always the case in the major leagues, where he wore out his welcome after a few years.

"He's been great for the kids,'' said Ken Gordon, the attorney who owns the DeLand Suns. "But if a big-league team calls, maybe we'll sell them his contract, and we can fund the whole league.''

Johnson, though, doesn't have a contract here. He is paid to manage, but not much more than gas money to make the trip from his home every day.

"I'll probably do this until I die,'' he said with a laugh. "Next year, I might be in Little League somewhere because somebody will want me to manage their team. If they ask, I'd probably say yes. It is baseball."