"I don't know if Charlie could win a debate about world economics or the health-care plan. But you sit down and talk baseball with Charlie, you'll get a Ph.D. in baseball," O'Dowd said over the weekend, leaning on the railing of the visitors' dugout at Dodger Stadium.
"I was really young. I was so far out over my skis, and he knew that. I had outkicked my coverage. But he also knew that I was a willing listener and I didn't act like a know-it-all and I wanted to learn and grow. Charlie loves to talk about baseball. I owe a lot of my knowledge, especially in the area of hitting, to him. He spent hours talking to me about swings and things to evaluate, what young hitters bring and how they mature into older hitters. I learned a lot from him."
Said Manuel: "He was ambitious as hell and all that. He could get uptight about stuff. He was young and eager. But he was really easy to work with. He was a listener. He hadn't had a lot of experience as far as playing on the field. But when we were going in to talk about our team in a meeting, I had to make sure I got it right. Because I knew he was going to be prepared and I always wanted to beat him. I had some of my greatest years working with him."
Baseball is an ever-changing mosaic. Faces disappear in one place, pop up in another. Twenty years later, with the National League Division Series set to begin tomorrow at Citizens Bank Park, the old friends find themselves wishing each other the worst. At least for the next week or so.
O'Dowd is general manager of the Colorado Rockies. Manuel is the Phillies' manager. One will win. One will have to lose. It has to be strange to root against someone you like and admire.
Two stories from their time together in the Cleveland system illustrate the relationship.
