THREE years ago was the time to bail out. Brian Cashman knew it. He saw the perfect storm forming against the Yankees: An aging roster, a bereft farm system and a widespread economic health in the sport that allowed just about any team to obtain or retain stars, leaving fewer high-caliber players for the Yanks to cherry pick to cover for that aging roster and bereft farm system.
He expressed this vision to his superiors, warning that the Yanks were nearing a cliff and if their business practices did not change drastically that the plunge would be for a decade not for a year or two.
George Steinbrenner bought into his vision and – perhaps in the last meaningful decision made as the true Boss of the organization – implored Cashman to stay with the full authority to run baseball operations in such a way as to avoid the long-term plummet. Cashman was prepared to leave, his reputation still stellar even after a 2005 first-round knockout against the Angels. Bill Parcells, Pat Riley and Pat Gillick had seen just this kind of nearing cliff at moments during their brilliant careers and jumped off before sinking results could harm their reps. Cashman, though, felt allegiance to his Boss.
“I stayed three years ago because George Steinbrenner asked me to stay,” Cashman said.
But the new three-year contract he agreed to this week had far less to do with loyalty. It is personal now. The Yankees did not make the playoffs for the first time since 1993, and as blame is issued Cashman is receiving a lot of buffoon-in-chief reviews. He has responded by fighting, mainly for his reputation.
Cashman has been with the Yanks since 1986 and in the high-profile role of general manager since 1998. Yet he publicly has projected a tamed ego, a minimum of concern about media/fan criticism and a restrained competitive streak. You would hear stories about Cashman going face to face in fury in arguments with Steinbrenner as testaments to his willingness to battle for his vision. But that was behind closed doors.
Yesterday, however, Cashman revealed a healthy ego, skin quite thinner than previously expressed and a defiant competitive streak by saying, “If I left I wasn’t going to like the story that was going to be written because it wasn’t going to be an accurate depiction of my time here. . . . I’m not going to let an inaccurate story stick. The only way to change that is to change the story. I am not saying it’s going to be changed overnight, but I am saying it’s not going to be re-written inaccurately.”
Cashman senses his entire time with the Yankees is now indelibly linked to Carl Pavano, Kei Igawa, refusing to obtain Johan Santana and missing the 2008 playoffs. He thinks that totally dismisses a valuable role in the dynasty formation as a minor league executive during the Jeter/Pettitte/Rivera incubation, and as assistant GM with a yes-no vote on critical matters such as Roberto Kelly for Paul O’Neill. Mainly, he thinks too many are judging his entire tenure on a few high-profile farm regressions in 2008 and missing these playoffs.
Prospects need time to gestate, Cashman argues. Pettitte and Rivera both signed in 1990, for example, and did not become major league factors for half a decade. Cashman’s revival effort is just three years old. This is why he agreed to another three, he says, because he has not wavered an iota that his plan will create the bedrock for another dynasty. He knew pain was coming when he said “yes” to Steinbrenner three years ago, when his common sense told him it was time to bail. And that competitive streak has convinced him to stay and fight on.
He has three years now to prove he actually can get the young pitching right, finish the transition from an aging core to a young, athletic one and reap the farm harvest. All that is at stake is his legacy.
“There is unfinished business here,” he said. “And I am here to finish that business.”