Joe Maddon: These are three best leaders I managed in MLB

Posted May 05, 2026 4:50 pm

By Joe Maddon

This story is part of Peak, The Athletic’s desk covering the mental side of sports.

Joe Maddon managed for 17 seasons in Major League Baseball. He was a three-time Manager of the Year and won the 2016 World Series with the Cubs. These are the three best leaders he managed.

Cliff Floyd, Tampa Bay Rays outfielder

I love presence with straightforwardness, and that was Cliff.

I use the term pure intentions a lot. It was always about winning for him. If things were good or bad, you were going to see the same cat. There was no BS, man. He was just a straightforward guy.

If he had any issues with me as the manager, he would come in and talk to me straight up. It was an honest approach. And when we had our conversations, it was always about something that he felt could make a difference regarding what we were doing.

He wanted to lead. You didn’t have to coax him into talking to somebody. He was there to help others; he was always part of the conversation with younger players.

I knew he was helping our team by just being there.

He also still had something left in the tank, which I think really matters and helps a lot. Then you can walk the walk, and he did that.

He hit the most vicious line drives I’ve ever seen in my life. He was a big man who could backspin a baseball. He hit a home run at The Trop one day that I swear was no more than 15 feet off the ground and went over the center-field fence. That was physically what he did, but how he walked in a room, and the respect he commanded, was like one of his line drives. It was just different.

David Ross, Chicago Cubs catcher

In a dugout during the game, if someone screwed up on the field, I never had to walk down and tell the player on the bench. David would do it. Sometimes he would get the player as he was walking off the field.

I would watch this because sometimes David could be a little bit harsh, as they say.

One time, Addison Russell screwed up, and as he was coming off the field, I saw David walk in his direction. I just watched it unfold. David got him pretty good. I don’t know exactly what he said, but he definitely pointed out what Addy had done wrong.

Afterwards, I spoke to David, and I said: “I appreciate what you did there. Just understand who it is that you’re talking to and try to figure out what amount of discipline that that person can handle. How hard can you come at the guy and get the point across without setting him backwards?”

That’s what David did. He was the bad cop, in a good way.

He was so vocal during games and even after games.

One night, I pinch-hit for him, and he was not happy. He came right in, sat down across from me in the office and went back and forth. Everything was fine after we were done. He just needed to get it off his chest.

It’s little moments like that — he had a willingness to be absolutely open and honest. Respect grows exponentially then.

Jason Heyward, Chicago Cubs outfielder

Another guy with absolute presence.

He was very thoughtful before he presented his words to you, but he would tell you exactly what he was thinking.

As an example, we were playing in San Francisco in the playoffs, and I didn’t have him in the starting lineup. He came into my office in San Francisco and told me he didn’t like it. He wanted to play, and he was upset about it.

I told him why I thought it was important to go the way we did, but of course, I told him he was going to be back out there. He needed to get it off his chest with me in a straightforward manner, and he did.

Even when he was not hitting — and like everyone, there were times he struggled — I always believed we were a better team on the field because of him. His presence. His outfield play and arm. His willingness to compete, and how everybody else fed off of that.

After innings, Jason would always make sure that he tapped his glove with the center fielder and left fielder coming off the field. Every time. I noticed that. It’s commonplace now, but he was one of the first I saw do that.

He was a unifier. He brought people together. The thing I loved most: He obviously struggled offensively at times, but it never impacted how he cavorted in the clubhouse. Never.

To the point that in 2016, even though he had sat out a playoff game and we’d had that honest conversation, he was the guy who called the meeting during the rain delay. He was the guy who got them all in the room and told them, “This is our time. We’re going to get this done. This is our time.”

He was the guy that unified them going into extra innings in Cleveland. That counts. That matters.

Anytime people want to be negative toward Jason, I’m not going to hear it. I’m not having that. This guy was so instrumental to what the Cubs did. That cannot be overstated. He was that important.

— As told to Jayson Jenks