Buzz Bissinger > Quotes

“They are all but forgotten now, as all men in war are ultimately forgotten. They are eternal, as all men in war are eternal. Who they were, where they were from in an America both blessed and brutal, the gung ho innocence that turned into the darkest horror as they traveled through the maze of being a marine, is not some period piece or contrived cautionary tale but the most timeless story of all: of humanity in the face of all that has become inhuman, the inhumanity of all that once was human, the remarkable sacrifice that men are still willing to make even when the world has gone mad, united by that thing you cannot ever control in war, however brave or careful or fearful or raging with revenge: who dies, because so many died after that game; who lives, because many did live despite combat and serious injury. The Mosquito Bowl.”
― Buzz Bissinger, The Mosquito Bowl: A Game of Life and Death in World War II

“La Russa has had more than his fair share because of the situations in which he has managed. But he also believes that no aspect of the game has changed more profoundly in the last twenty-five years than the values of the players—what turns them on and turns them off and whether some of them can be turned on at all.”
― Buzz Bissinger, Three Nights in August: Strategy, Heartbreak, and Joy Inside the Mind of a Manager

“the game’s fan base after the strike of 1994 that had cancelled the World Series—latched on to the home run as a marketing tool. Fans liked it, and if steroids helped fuel the home-run frenzy, so be it. The tacit sanctioning of steroids upset La Russa and other managers and coaches, and their unease wasn’t simply altruistic. Throughout the 1990s, several innovations had gradually shifted the game in the hitters’ favor: a lowered mound, added expansion teams (which enlarged and diluted the pool of pitching talent), new teacup-sized ballparks, a tighter strike zone. Add steroids to the list, because they gave strength to drive balls farther, and it was like “piling on,”
― Buzz Bissinger, Three Nights in August: Strategy, Heartbreak, and Joy Inside the Mind of a Manager

“draft dodgers. As John McLaughry put it, “It doesn’t seem right, all these apparently healthy football players being exempt, and many of these men out here eighteen and twenty months all worn down with malaria and still working like hell.”
― Buzz Bissinger, The Mosquito Bowl: A Game of Life and Death in World War II

“He concluded instead that the fault was his, something he didn’t do—a breakdown of his obligation to prepare his players, never mind how hard he had tried. But”
― Buzz Bissinger, Three Nights in August: Strategy, Heartbreak, and Joy Inside the Mind of a Manager

“Matheny time to take those two steps up the third-base line and set up in a stoic crouch. It’s going to be a wreck at home plate, a serious wreck. Sosa, due up next, leaves the on-deck circle and, like a bystander vainly trying to ward off a car crash, motions to Glanville with his hands to get down, get down. But the throw is too far ahead of Glanville, his only choice to go for the high-impact head-on collision. He barrels into Matheny, using his forearm to hit him in the face. He uses the rest of his body to try to flatten him. Matheny does a full 360-degree pirouette. His glove goes flying, and if the ball is still in there, Glanville is safe, and the Cubs will win because there’s”
― Buzz Bissinger, Three Nights in August: Strategy, Heartbreak, and Joy Inside the Mind of a Manager

“baseball, maybe even confuse you with a fog of overanaly-sis. As far as he knew, there was no way to quantify desire. And those numbers told him exactly what he needed to know when added to twenty-four years of managing experience. Each line was a concise history of Morris’s twelve outings through the end of May, and the numbers within each line reflected the following: innings pitched, hits allowed, runs given up, and pitches thrown. They told La Russa a story just like his matchups did, and this particular one contained dark foreshadowing. They showed that, out of Morris’s”
― Buzz Bissinger, Three Nights in August: Strategy, Heartbreak, and Joy Inside the Mind of a Manager

“Gaining his men’s trust was the most difficult task he had faced in his life, but he had done it by depending largely on his intuition. Every facet of military life was spelled out, except perhaps for common sense. Now, in the early part of 1944,”
― Buzz Bissinger, The Mosquito Bowl: A Game of Life and Death in World War II

“team generally about”
― Buzz Bissinger, Three Nights in August: Strategy, Heartbreak, and Joy Inside the Mind of a Manager

“Fowler commanded respect as an officer because he treated his men with respect. He was a natural-born leader. He believed in decorum and responsibility.”
― Buzz Bissinger, The Mosquito Bowl: A Game of Life and Death in World War II

“For La Russa, it was a pivotal moment, one of those moments in which managing the team mentally was more important than managing strategically. He was adamant that none of what was happening would defeat them. The team had regrouped and rebounded”
― Buzz Bissinger, Three Nights in August: Strategy, Heartbreak, and Joy Inside the Mind of a Manager

“It’s also why he gave his little conspiratorial laugh in spring training when he heard of the Red Sox plan, based on analysis by statistical guru and team consultant Bill James, to have rotating closers instead of one designated pitcher. James, in part because of what he felt was the inflated statistic of the save (you get one even with a three-run lead), believed that it wasn’t always necessary to bring in a classic closer to pitch the ninth. La Russa repected James, but based on managing nearly 4,000 games, was convinced James was wrong. La Russa was also right: the Red Sox ultimately dumped the idea when it became”
― Buzz Bissinger, Three Nights in August: Strategy, Heartbreak, and Joy Inside the Mind of a Manager

“Some coaches think that the best way to deal with pressure is to ignore it, treat every moment of a game the same so as not to heighten the tension even more. La Russa believes that players need to openly acknowledge pressure—literally embrace it as “your friend,” in his words—because the more they embrace it, the less it can intimidate them. He teaches hitters that the best way to deal with pressure is to prepare for it, come into the at-bat with a keen sense of what the pitcher is likely to throw and how you should handle it. Most important, when you’re up there, focus on the process and not the result; don’t project into the future. Forget about the noble but irrational concept of going for broke. Put away the hero complex and simply try to get something started. But don’t hesitate, either: In clutch moments, you’re unlikely to get your perfect pitch, so don’t wait around for it. Be aggressive. Nobody lives these principles better than the great Pujols. Alfonseca serves him a sinker low and inside to start the inning. It’s a good first pitch: difficult to drive, difficult to get into the gap. Pujols stays inside of it with his hands. He doesn’t try to do too much with it; he simply makes contact, and the ball scoots up the middle, past the shipwreck hulk of Alfonseca. It’s a single, an Oscar-”
― Buzz Bissinger, Three Nights in August: Strategy, Heartbreak, and Joy Inside the Mind of a Manager

“They are all but forgotten now, as all men in war are ultimately forgotten.”
― Buzz Bissinger, The Mosquito Bowl: A Game of Life and Death in World War II

“In 1937, the amphibious assault doctrine was issued by the Marine Corps and ultimately adopted by the navy. But a study was a study and a manual was a manual and tests in the field were tests in the field. The only way to see if the theory worked was to attack an entrenched enemy with real action, real bodies, and real ammunition. Tarawa became that battle, marking in earnest the start of the island-hopping campaign through the central Pacific that would ultimately lead to Okinawa on the doorstep of the Japanese homeland. The great victory at Guadalcanal in the Solomon Islands, northeast of Australia, had been epic for the Marine Corps. But the initial landing there in August of 1942, the largest in the Solomon Islands chain, had been largely unopposed. The landing on Tarawa would not be. III”
― Buzz Bissinger, The Mosquito Bowl: A Game of Life and Death in World War II

“Although Schreiner had been the second-round draft pick of the Detroit Lions, Stuhldreher dissuaded him from even considering it. Pro ball was good for a little quick money, maybe, but players hung on too long and after that could not adjust to other fields. He spoke from experience, having played professionally for three years, watching men unable to cope with the inevitable diminishment of their physical skills, their bodies breaking down from too many hits, too much viciousness, and too much disregard for injuries. “They are not a credit to anyone,” he wrote, the one thing they were good at being of no use in the real world. He bluntly told Schreiner that he would never top the laurels he had already received in college football, so there was no point in going pro”
― Buzz Bissinger, The Mosquito Bowl: A Game of Life and Death in World War II

“a very strange and brilliant marine major named Earl “Pete” Ellis wrote a paper for the Marine Corps in which he said that Japan was the United States’ greatest enemy and the two would ultimately engage in war. He based his hypothesis on the tactical movements of Japan in the Pacific after World War I and on what he interpreted as its clear goals of expansion under the cloak of secrecy. He predicted with uncanny prescience that the initial strategy of a Japanese attack would be to destroy a great portion of the US fleet. He further predicted that the United States, in declaring war in retaliation, would adopt an island-hopping strategy across the Pacific, building up advance bases and airstrips until the Japanese homeland was close enough to be easily attacked. The only way to fend off the Japanese would be by adopting an amphibious assault doctrine as a new kind of military strategy. Ellis may have been the most brilliant marine in history and also the most tragic. Suspected to be bipolar and hospitalized several times for alcoholism, he never went above the rank of major because of his emotional instability. He died in 1923 at the age of forty-two on the Japanese-controlled island of Palau in the western Pacific while supposedly on a spy mission. No one knows quite how he died. But his amphibious assault theory, now considered one of the greatest”
― Buzz Bissinger, The Mosquito Bowl: A Game of Life and Death in World War II

“He was too wise for that kind of carelessness, going to the front and sticking out like that. But”
― Buzz Bissinger, The Mosquito Bowl: A Game of Life and Death in World War II

“Navy ships, just like the men on board, had distinct personalities. Some ran like clockwork; others ran counterclockwise. Some were blessed, some were cursed. Some had swagger and wanted to be out front. Some were shy and only wanted to be in back. Some were easier to love than others. Some were mule stubborn. The McKean was a plodder, a four-stack destroyer built in 1919, what the crew called a “piddle-diddle.” As the Allies made their offensive up the Solomon Islands chain, the McKean was dependable and uncomplaining. But she was tired,”
― Buzz Bissinger, The Mosquito Bowl: A Game of Life and Death in World War II

“But La Russa hearkened back to Paul Richards and the most enduring piece of advice he has ever received, as much about life as about managing: It’s your ass, it’s your team, so take responsibility.”
― Buzz Bissinger, Three Nights in August: Strategy, Heartbreak, and Joy Inside the Mind of a Manager

“It takes a second, maybe two, the crowd going berserk and two entire dugouts up on their toes and the home plate umpire bending his neck into this Bill Gallo cartoon swirl of arms and legs and what belongs to whom and who belongs to what, charged with answering everybody’s question: Where is the ball? Where is the ball? It’s in Matheny’s bare hand. He switched it from his glove right before impact. Glanville is out. HE’S OUT!!!”
― Buzz Bissinger, Three Nights in August: Strategy, Heartbreak, and Joy Inside the Mind of a Manager

“When you have spent so much of your life in baseball that it becomes your life—when you have managed thousands of games and thousands of players—you see the timeline and transformation of the game from a unique point of privilege. You see the changing strike zone and the current mania over pitch count that never existed when Koufax and Gibson and Ryan were going at it during your own formative years. You see the dawn of sweet little cookie-cutter parks where a guy can hit a home run into the short porch in left simply by flicking his wrists.”
― Buzz Bissinger, Three Nights in August: Strategy, Heartbreak, and Joy Inside the Mind of a Manager

“Although there was no definitive proof, it was likely that General Douglas MacArthur, the supreme commander of the Southwest Pacific War and the media darling of the war despite having fled the Philippines and leaving his men and the Filipinos to be decimated and tortured by the Japanese, was in the midst of it all. He held great sway with West Point, having graduated first in his class in 1903. Later as superintendent he made it a priority to increase the level of its sports programs. Given his popularity and pain-in-the-ass prickliness and flash-flood indignance when he perceived phantom insult and his presidential aspirations, the top command and administration were terrified of MacArthur,”
― Buzz Bissinger, The Mosquito Bowl: A Game of Life and Death in World War II

“tried to tell him what I had seen, but he knew it all. Keeps repeating his wise-cracks. ‘The Lord said let there be mud,’ etc. etc. . . . There is NO tactical thinking or push. No plan was ever discussed at the meetings to hasten the fight or help the divisions.”
― Buzz Bissinger, The Mosquito Bowl: A Game of Life and Death in World War II

“The old attitude could also show itself in defeat, as when Eckersley refused to flinch from the fury of reporters’ questions in the clubhouse after he gave up The Home Run to Kirk Gibson in the 1988 World Series against the Dodgers on that fateful back-door slider that went through the front door instead.”
― Buzz Bissinger, Three Nights in August: Strategy, Heartbreak, and Joy Inside the Mind of a Manager

“Morris pitches, as baseball may be the only organized profession in the world where theft is perfectly legal. There are virtually no rules about it. Instead, like suspected cattle rustling, it’s taken care of with an impromptu code of justice much like a batter getting hit by a pitch. It is not tolerated if discovered, and there are some who will resort to the threat of death. But everyone is up for grabs—the pitcher, the catcher, the third-base coach, the first-base coach, the manager, the bench coach—because of a tendency to inadvertently spill secrets.”
― Buzz Bissinger, Three Nights in August: Strategy, Heartbreak, and Joy Inside the Mind of a Manager

“He spends more time than ever now schooling players on the value of competition. He explains to them in spring training the challenge and magnificence of getting a World Series ring, because “it won’t happen accidentally. You gotta tell ’em to want it.” He sees how quickly clubhouses empty out regardless of how sweet the win or how tough the loss, suburbanites hoping to catch the 5:05 home, all-night talk of baseball replaced by simply wanting to get to wherever they’re going. He wishes there were more team parties, but when so many players are glancing impatiently at their Rolexes because it’s almost ten o’clock, no party could generate much esprit de corps. In recent years,”
― Buzz Bissinger, Three Nights in August: Strategy, Heartbreak, and Joy Inside the Mind of a Manager

“eyes, and he did, pitching a complete game in a 6–2 win.”
― Buzz Bissinger, Three Nights in August: Strategy, Heartbreak, and Joy Inside the Mind of a Manager

“Home-run hysteria peaked in 1998 when the Cards’ Mark McGwire and the Cubs’ Sammy Sosa battled to break perhaps the most sacred record in all of baseball, Roger Maris’s sixty-one home runs in a single season. Both players didn’t just break it; they shattered it: McGwire hitting seventy home runs and Sosa sixty-six. La Russa managed McGwire when he broke the record, and McGwire admitted that during the season he had taken a steroid precursor known as “Andro,” short for androstendione. Andro was available over the counter at the time, although the NFL and the Olympics had banned it. McGwire made no attempt to hide his use of it. He kept a bottle on the shelf of his locker in plain view, and La Russa does not believe that McGwire ever used anything other than Andro (he also stopped taking it in 1999 and still hit sixty-five home runs). He was big when he came into the league in 1986 and over time became dedicated to working out as often as six days a week in order to prevent further injuries. In the early 1990s, he actually lost weight to take pressure off a chronically sore heel; weight loss runs counter to the bloated look of someone on steroids. But the same could not be said of Canseco. Despite a body that ultimately metamorphosed into an almost cartoonish shape—Brutus meets Popeye—he denied throughout his career that he ever had taken steroids, until his playing days ended in 2002. Two weeks later, ever the performer, he admitted with much ballyhoo that he had indeed been on the juice. Rickey Henderson was another high-profile player who moved to his own brooding rhythms. In all of La Russa’s years of managing, no player in baseball has ever been more dangerous than Henderson with his combination of on-base percentage and base-stealing skills and power. Impervious to pressure unlike any player La Russa had ever seen before, he became a marked man around the league because he could beat you in so many ways, and he still starred for almost the entire decade of the 1980s.”
― Buzz Bissinger, Three Nights in August: Strategy, Heartbreak, and Joy Inside the Mind of a Manager

“Jocketty’s style also reflected something else—an increasing anachronism in baseball today. He believed that direct communication with a manager and coaches on personnel decisions could only enhance the quality of a ballclub.”
― Buzz Bissinger, Three Nights in August: Strategy, Heartbreak, and Joy Inside the Mind of a Manager