Imrem: At last, Maddon brings personality to a Chicago team
Chicago sports just acquired something more than a new baseball manager.
They acquired a pulse.
Joe Maddon has a pulse, a personality, a presence.
Thank goodness. Listening to this city's collection of managers and coaches was becoming as dull as watching your fingernails grow.
Robin Ventura with the White Sox? Marc Trestman with the Bears? Joel Quenneville with the Blackhawks?
Boring … boring … boring.
OK, so there is a tad of texture to Bulls' head coach Tom Thibodeau.
But not even Mr. Thibs is fashioned in the image of an Iron Mike Ditka, an Ozzinator Guillen, a Sweet Lou Piniella, a Leo "The Lip" Durocher, a Papa Bear Halas, a Zen Master Jackson, a Popeye Zimmer or even the peculiar Dusty Baker.
Judging by Maddon's introductory news conference Monday, before he's done as manager of the Cubs he just might fit in with those true Chicago sports characters.
All Maddon will need is a playful nickname.
Maddon's welcoming party was held in the CubbyBear bar across from Wrigley Field because the ballpark is under construction.
Maybe that was how it was meant to be: Joe Maddon sounded like so many engaging guys sitting on the next stool in so many corner taverns.
If you sat next to another of the city's managers/coaches, the danger would be that you'd doze off with your head drooping into your beer.
Thibodeau would keep you awake yapping your ears off but at some point between this X and that O you'd have to say, "Uh, excuse me, but I have to use the men's room" and sneak down to the other end of the bar.
You know how I always say that the manager or coach in Chicago should fill the room just by walking into it?
Maddon sure seems like he can fill any room by himself and by extension fill any ballpark … wait, no, he couldn't fill Tropicana Field as manager of the Tampa Bay Rays.
But in the baseball town we live and die in, in a sports town that featured storied conversationalists over the decades, Maddon will belong sooner than later.
Ventura and Trestman will put you to sleep or make you shake your head. Quenneville won't say enough to inspire anyone but maybe his players behind closed doors. Thibodeau still might have to wear a name tag anywhere outside of the gym.
Maddon will be as recognizable as Rahm Emanuel. He might be booed on the street if the Cubs flounder or cheered if they are all that management promises they'll be, but either way Chicago won't be able to miss Joe Maddon.
"I know I'm a little bit different at times," he said matter-of-factly.
Indications are that Maddon is going to be visible around town, active in the community, a man of the people.
Usually Maddon will be talking to someone, anyone, everyone. Man, can this guy talk. He has a rapid-fire delivery reminiscent of Ditka, only with more sensibility.
Within the first few minutes of his media session, Maddon told stories about meeting with Cubs' officials in an RV camp and about thinking of "Gladiator" when he first managed a game in Wrigley Field with the Rays.
Maddon might not deliver on his beliefs that "magical things can happen" with the Cubs and "special things can happen" and "it's going to happen."
These still are the Cubs until proven otherwise, of course, but Maddon's experiences and insights will make things interesting whether or not "it" happens.
"I have a life outside of baseball," Maddon said, his collar open and sleeves half-rolled up and white-hot hair unkempt.
In the end Maddon grabbed the mike one more time and announced, "Bartender ... barkeep ... I've got the first round."
Seriously, this is a guy Harry Caray would have liked to sit next to at the bar.
mimrem@dailyherald.com