Thankfully and mercifully for the franchise, for its' fans and for the man himself, Cincinnati management had finally seen enough of Jerry Narron and showed him the door late Sunday afternoon.
The Reds virtually had no other choice but to hand Narron his pink slip. Because of more than occasional ineptitude and lots of questionable decision-making, Narron had literally mismanaged his way out of a job.
Fittingly, Narron exited a loser, his team having lost the last six series in the third and deciding game. Does anyone detect a pattern here?
For anyone willing to look closely, it was just a matter of time before Narron got the axe. The Reds are in a full-on freefall and it didn't take a genius to se that the 51-year old Narron had all but lost the team. Though there still was a vestige of the club that supported him, the truth is that the players simply weren't responding to his leadership or direction, if you can call it that. Those that needed to listen to him the most seemed to have basically tuned him out.
Narron had been reduced to nothing more than a figurehead, someone who filled out the lineup card and made perfunctory moves. His influence had been diminished to next to nothing.
Over the last few days, Narron was more or less the baseball equivalent of the Sean Penn character inexorably headed towards his ultimate execution. Narron was the epitome of a dead man walking. His number was clearly up. One almost expected to see vultures circling Narron's head as his grip on the team and his job became more tenuous with each passing game.
One thing's for certain. This firing can't be contested. Admittedly, in some very key ways, the Reds are a flawed club. But there's more than enough talent on the Cincy roster to play .500 ball at the bare minimum. The cupboard is hardly bare. The Reds aren't playing anywhere near their norm, let along their best.
And that goes straight to the manager. It's his responsibility to create an environment, through his strategy, acumen, discipline, motivation and intuition, that enhances and increases his team's chances for success. The manager helps set the table and theoretically, puts his charges in the most advantageous positions to maximize their potential.
It's also incumbent on the manager to see to it that the team continues to develop and improve under his stewardship. A steady progression should be priority number one for anyone entrusted with running a ball club.
In virtually all the aforementioned areas, Narron was sorely deficient. He came across as a man who was over his head and out of his element.
Whenever he went up against a manager of just modest reputation, it appeared he was truly overmatched. With Narron at the helm, the Reds were operating at a decided disadvantage. Instead of being a positive force, Narron proved himself to be liability. He was totally incapable of devising a means by which to make the Reds perform better on the field.
At this stage, it wouldn't serve much purpose to list Narron's shortcomings, of which there are many. Let's just say that the now ex-Reds' skipper was 100 bricks short of a load. But his most glaring weaknesses must be pointed out so as to demonstrate why the Reds' brass couldn't allow him to undermine the team any longer.
Harsh as it may sound, Narron isn't the sharpest knife in the tray. When it comes to baseball smarts, Narron is in the remedial class. He possesses little or no creativity and seems at a loss when it comes to manufacturing runs or playing some version of small ball when needed.
His ability to manipulate and massage a pitching staff is practically nil. With the Reds, he never developed an understanding of who could do what and when. Narron also had the aggravating habit of staying with pitchers, particularly relievers, way too long. He was much too lenient with many of his hurlers when it was obvious to anyone that they just didn't have it during a particular outing. If Narron had been less tolerant and had he employed a much quicker hook ala Sparky Anderson, he still might be managing the Reds today. His hesitancy to act quickly and decisively helped hasten his demise.
A strong case can be made that instead of growing and maturing as a manager, Narron regressed and took noticeable steps backward. He probably did his most effective work in 2005 when he replaced the failed Dave Miley. Helping to stabilize a sinking ball club, Narron got the Reds to break even ( 46-46 ) over the final three-plus months, no small feat.
But after the Reds jumped out to a bang-up start in '06 and were beautifully positioned to earn a divisional title or a wild card berth, the house of cards that Narron oversaw came crashing down. Cincy faltered badly during the season's second-half and after a late-August collapse, the Reds were basically toast, finishing with a disappointing 80-82 record.
Cincy's poor play from the All-Star break of last year continued unabated right into the current campaign. With an atrocious 31-51 ledger, worst in the majors and on track to lose over 100 games for only the second time in franchise history, no argument could be made for the Reds not to kick Narrow to the curb. The guy had become dead weight.
As pitcher Bronson Arroyo aptly said, losing 50 games in the first-half is something that simply can't be ignored. Someone was destined to take the hit for such futility. And with general manager Wayne Krivsky sadly acknowledging that a different voice and approach was necessary, Narron was the one who got the boot. His overall 157-179 mark as Reds' skipper won't have many Cincy fans lamenting his departure.
So for now, 55-year old Pete Mackanin, a respected career baseball man who briefly managed the Pirates in '05 ( 12-14 ), takes over on an interim basis. It will be his task to try to clean up some of the considerable mess that Narron helped leave behind. Whether Mackanin is up to the challenge of resurrecting the woeful Reds remains to be seen.
Yet, one thing's for sure.
He'll have a clear-cut advantage over Narron. Mackanin is alive and ready to do battle while Narron was anything but. As his forgettable stint in Cincy excruciatingly wound down, Narron showed nary a sign of life. But how could he? He was truly a dead man walking!