The Cubs Way

by Tom Verducci

  Four days later, there was another ring of the doorbell. It was John Henry paying Lester a visit from Boston.

  The winter meetings began three days after that, on December 8. The Levinsons told all teams to bring their best offers. The Red Sox came in at $135 million over six years. The Giants were close to $150 million over six years, and showed some appetite for a seventh year. The Cubs were at $150 million over six years with a seventh-year option. The mutual option would vest if Lester threw 200 innings in the sixth year or 400 innings over the fifth and sixth years combined. The Levinson brothers locked in on negotiations with the Cubs late into the night. They grinded on Epstein for more money. By four in the morning, they had extracted another $5 million, in addition to perks such as a full no-trade clause, a suite on the road rather than a standard hotel room, and 25 hours of private jet travel each year of the contract.

  They called it a night with the framework of a $155 million deal in place. The Cubs had separated themselves from the pack with money, after having started the process already in a unique spot. The Red Sox and Giants had won five of the previous eight world championships, with Lester earning rings with the 2007 and 2013 Red Sox. In a way, he was in a similar spot to the one Epstein had been in three years earlier: whatever good happened again in Boston, or whatever he added in San Francisco, would be only the repetition of success. And whatever failure might occur in those places would fade the glory of what had been accomplished. Chicago offered not just a new challenge, but also the biggest of championship blank slates. Lester was a 20-year-old kid in Class-A ball in 2004 when Boston won the World Series for the first time in 86 years. He never forgot the impact of that championship.

  “Those guys are legends in Boston,” Lester said. “I always use the comparison that Dave Roberts stole one base, and this guy hasn’t paid for a meal or drink since.”

  The next night, December 9, Lester made his decision. The Levinsons were in a hotel room with Epstein, Hoyer, and Maddon when they put Lester on the phone with Epstein.

  “I want to come play for you,” he said.

  Privately, the Cubs believed all along that Lester was looking for a reason not to return to Boston. The Cubs provided that reason. Epstein sold him on the path to a World Series title. History was calling. Lester heard it.

  “The lure of bringing the World Series to [Chicago] and this team really interested me and my family,” Lester said. “You go back to the ’04 Red Sox and think about the free agents they brought in and the players they traded for. Those guys are legends for the rest of their lives. You bring that here and that’s an exciting time to be a part of. I’m really interested in being part of that, of breaking that curse. I know what breaking a curse can do for a city and an organization. Hopefully, I can be a part of that.”

  Fourteen days later, Ross agreed to a deal with the Cubs for $5 million over two years.

  “Jon was kind of the last straw,” Ross said. “That’s when things were picking up. The Cubs weren’t sure what they would do with [catcher] Welington Castillo, whether they would trade him or not. But signing Jon put it over the edge for me. What better way to go? I love the city. I knew they were going to be good. I knew Jake Arrieta had great stuff—he almost no-hit us in Boston in 2013. Now we’ve got Jon, so we’ve got two number ones. I thought, yeah, maybe this is going to be a pretty good team.”

  What signing Lester meant to Epstein and Hoyer was that they were all-in on the 2015 season, rather than using the year as another ramp-up season toward 2016. He was the ace pitcher they needed to front a rotation. He would join Jake Arrieta and Kyle Hendricks, both of whom showed promise in 2014, and Jason Hammel, who rejoined the Cubs as a free agent three days before Lester signed. All four starting pitchers were acquired in the first three seasons Epstein and Hoyer were in Chicago. Later that off-season the Cubs added switch-hitting centerfielder and ebullient clubhouse presence Dexter Fowler, whom they acquired in a shrewd trade with Houston for pitcher Dan Straily and infielder Luis Valbuena.

  Epstein and Hoyer had targeted two top free agents as priorities that off-season, both of whom they identified as playoff-hardened leaders who could help show a young team how to win: catcher Russell Martin and Lester. They gave Martin the same recruiting pitch they gave Lester—the stocked farm system; the statistical projections for the young players; the cool, expensive architectural model of the renovated Wrigley Field; the CGI images of a World Series at Wrigley Field—but it didn’t work. Martin signed quickly—before Thanksgiving—to take a bigger offer from the Toronto Blue Jays, the national team of his home country. Epstein and Hoyer pivoted toward Miguel Montero, acquiring the catcher in a trade with the Arizona Diamondbacks.

  “We knew to acquire someone like Jon, an elite free agent with choices, would mean somebody taking a risk on us,” Hoyer said. “I feel like, when Lester signed, it really upgraded our team in so many ways. It took us to another level. I can’t tell you how big that was. We tried to get Russell Martin as well, but we couldn’t get it done. He didn’t take the risk, which is understandable. Jon was the one who took a chance on a team that won 73 games.”

  Lester took the leap of faith that Martin did not take. By choosing to sign with Chicago, Lester turned down two franchises that had combined to win four of the previous five World Series titles in order to play for one that had finished in last place two years in a row. Money and hope won him over.

  Phil Velasquez/Chicago Tribune/MCT/ZUMAPRESS.com

  After nine years as general manager of the Boston Red Sox, where he broke one curse, Theo Epstein arrived in Chicago on October 25, 2011, as President of Baseball Operations for the Cubs with one mission: Break another curse.

  AP Photo/Julie Jacobson

  Theo Epstein signed Manager Joe Maddon as a free agent after the 2014 season. Said Epstein, “As soon as I found out he was available I knew we had to have him.”

  Photo by Joe Robbins/Getty Images

  After owner Tom Ricketts launched a $575 million renovation of Wrigley Field, the 2016 Cubs won 57 home games, a record in the franchise’s 100 seasons at the Friendly Confines.

  Charles LeClaire/USA TODAY Sports

  Joe Maddon and Jake Arrieta show off their duds during the Cubs’ 2016 “minimalist zany suit trip”—one of Maddon’s favorite team-bonding exercises is the themed trip.

  Caylor Arnold/USA TODAY Sports

  Drafted second overall in 2013, Kris Bryant quickly defined Theo Epstein’s idea of an impact player: 2015 Rookie of the Year and 2016 Most Valuable Player.

  Gene J. Puskar/AP Images

  Obtained in a trade with Baltimore, where his 5.46 ERA relegated him to the minors, Jake Arrieta became a dominant force and the 2015 Cy Young Award winner with the Cubs.

  David Banks/Getty Images

  Following Anthony Rizzo, Kris Bryant, and Kyle Schwarber, shortstop Addison Russell became the fourth key impact player Epstein acquired. Russell arrived via a July 2014 trade with Oakland.

  Matt Slocum/AP Images

  The “buddy battery” of Jon Lester and David Ross, signed before the 2015 season, worked together in 68 of Lester’s 72 games over two seasons, including three World Series games.

  Jerry Lai/USA TODAY Sports

  For the first time in 71 years, the iconic Wrigley Field marquee announced a World Series game.

  Tommy Gilligan/USA TODAY Sports

  Kyle Schwarber became an instant legend when he hit .412 in the World Series after not seeing Major League pitching for 200 days because of a serious knee injury.

  Brad Mangin/MLB Photos/Getty Images

  The first significant piece acquired by Epstein, Anthony Rizzo became a linchpin of the lineup and the clubhouse.

  Brian Cassella/TNS via ZUMA Wire

  A moment 108 years in the making: Kris Bryant and Anthony Rizzo share a mid-air hug after combining for the out that ended the longest championship drought in sports.

  Elsa/Getty Images

  Actor and Cubs superfan Bill Murray,
who was born and raised in the Chicago suburbs, salutes Theo Epstein with a champagne shower.

  Pool/Kyodo News via Getty Images

  Manager Joe Maddon and General Manager Jed Hoyer enjoy the spoils of victory: the Commissioner’s Trophy, given to the World Series champion.

  Zbigniew Bzdak/TNS via ZUMA Wire

  A crowd estimated to be five million people—the largest gathering of humanity in the Western hemisphere in history—turned out to salute the world champion Cubs at their parade. Whether they waited through many of the 108 years or only a few, the fans expressed pure joy.

  Joe Maddon opted out of his contract as manager of the Tampa Bay Rays on October 23, 2014, with one year remaining on the deal at about $2 million. One of the first calls his agent, Alan Nero, made after the decision was to Cubs president Theo Epstein.

  “Joe Maddon is a free agent,” Nero told him.

  Epstein, who claimed the phone call was the first he heard about Maddon hitting the open market, couldn’t believe his good fortune. He instantly knew he wanted Maddon to manage the Cubs, even if his own manager, Rick Renteria, was under contract for another year after leading Chicago to a seven-win improvement in 2014. As soon as Epstein hung up the phone, he called owner Tom Ricketts.

  “We have to pursue this,” Epstein said. “It’s a great opportunity.”

  Said Epstein, “I knew right away that he was our guy, that it was a once-in-a-generation opportunity for the perfect guy at the perfect time for this place that we had all invested so much in, and we had struggled as far as finding that finishing piece. How do you create the same environment—the same morale and environment that we were so proud of in the minor leagues and front office and scouting department—how do we re-create it in the big league clubhouse where we’re losing and where no one wants to hear about young guys? That was the missing piece.

  “We could not create the environment. Look at Rizzo and [Starlin] Castro and their ups and downs, the pressures they had to deal with, the criticism they had to deal with, and, understandably, in a losing environment. But we could not create the environment at the big league level that was conducive to young players developing, and young players making adjustments and thriving and relaxing and letting their talent take over. We ran the risk of really retarding our growth because we were so single-minded about developing our young nucleus, but what happens when they get up here?”

  Epstein and Jed Hoyer had considered Maddon for a managing job once before. It was the Boston job after the 2003 season, a job that became available after the Grady Little Game—the seventh game of the American League Championship Series, when Little, the Red Sox manager, allowed a tiring Pedro Martinez to blow a three-run lead with Boston only five outs from winning the pennant. It cost Little his job.

  At that point, Maddon had been a major league coach with the Angels for 10 years. Epstein and Hoyer asked him to meet them at the Biltmore Hotel in Phoenix. Maddon bought a new suit at Men’s Wearhouse just for the occasion. This was his third interview for a managing job. The first two interviews both occurred with the Angels, and both seemed to be done out of respect for his years in the organization: once by general manager Bill Bavasi before the job went to Terry Collins, and once by general manager Bill Stoneman before the job went to Mike Scioscia.

  “It was more of an old-school conversation,” Maddon said about the Angels’ interviews, “as opposed to…This was totally different.”

  Epstein and Hoyer spent all day with Maddon, first at the Biltmore, and then at Roy’s in Scottsdale for dinner. The interview was probing at times in the manner of an essay test.

  Epstein and Hoyer, for example, gave him a long list of a manager’s responsibilities, including empowering the coaching staff, working with the media, handling the bullpen, creating lineups, dealing with a petulant superstar, and running spring training. They asked Maddon to place them in order of importance, and to explain why.

  “By the end of the day I felt like I knew them pretty well,” Maddon said. “And I think they knew me at that time pretty well, too. It stuck that these are guys I could work with and for.”

  Maddon didn’t get the job. Epstein and Hoyer ultimately decided they did not want to take a chance on hiring a rookie manager in Boston. Prioritizing experience, they hired former Philadelphia Phillies manager Terry Francona. The Red Sox won the World Series the next year.

  This time around, in 2014, Maddon had nine years of experience managing the Rays. Epstein told Nero that he and Hoyer wanted to meet with Maddon as soon as possible. Nero told him that Maddon and his wife, Jaye, were driving their 43-foot Winnebago recreational vehicle from their home in Tampa to their place in Long Beach, California. (Maddon calls his RV “Cousin Eddie,” after Chevy Chase’s RV-driving cousin in the Vacation movies. Others call it the Maddon Cruiser. He also owns a ’56 Belair named Bella, a ’67 Ford Galaxie named Aunt Hen, a ’72 Chevelle named Babalou with a 1908 Cubs emblem in the carpet of the trunk, a ’76 Dodge van he calls “my shaggin’ wagon,” and his most recent purchase, to mark the ’16 world championship, a 707-horsepower, purple ’16 Dodge Challenger Hellcat. As his Jaye likes to say, Maddon has “a sweet tooth” for cars.)

  Nero wasn’t sure exactly where Maddon was at the moment. He put Epstein in touch with him by phone. Maddon happened to be at an RV park on a tiny gulf beach in Navarre, Florida, near Pensacola. Epstein told Maddon he would be happy to meet him anywhere on the road, as long as it was as soon as possible. He didn’t want to allow time for other clubs to get involved. Maddon pulled out a map.

  “San Antonio,” Maddon said. “We can meet up in San Antonio.”

  “Great.”

  But then Maddon remembered something: the RV park in San Antonio, not too far from a garbage dump, wasn’t the most scenic spot.

  “Let’s just stay here,” he said. “Our beach in Pensacola.”

  “We’ll be there tomorrow afternoon,” Epstein said.

  Maddon was 60 years old. He was a baseball lifer. He had been in pro ball for 39 years, the first 20 in the minors in this labor of love. His agents and his wife, he said, “have been really disappointed in me in the past because I really don’t push on the money side of things.” And now the top baseball executives of the Chicago Cubs were hopping on a plane to meet him at an RV park near Pensacola, Florida.

  “When was the last time a 60-year-old dude became a free agent in the Major League Baseball world?” he said.

  He had waited his whole life for this kind of leverage.

  —

  Joseph John Maddon was born February 8, 1954, to Joseph Anthony and Albina “Beanie” Maddon of 9 East 11th Street in Hazleton, Pennsylvania, a town of about 32,000 then and built literally on coal and figuratively on a misspelling. It was supposed to be “Hazelton,” but a town clerk misspelled it during its incorporation on January 5, 1857, and the error stuck.

  Hazleton was as blue as blue collar gets. In the early 19th century, railroad developers from Philadelphia sent a young engineer from New York named Ariovistus Pardee to survey the land of Northeast Pennsylvania to determine the feasibility of extending railroad service there. The area was discovered to be sitting on a massive anthracite coal field. Pardee bought acreage himself and formed a coal company. The coal industry in Northeast Pennsylvania in the mid-19th century boomed, supplying much of the coal that powered the enormous blast furnaces of Bethlehem Steel Corporation. The coal jobs attracted immigrants from Germany, Ireland, Italy, Russia, Poland, and Lithuania.

  Among the second wave of European immigrants to settle in Hazleton was Carmen Maddonini, a red-haired Italian from Abruzzo, in the mountains east of Rome. To fit in with the Irish coal miners who lived on his block, Carmen Anglicized his name to “Maddon,” and, after working in the mines himself, in the 1930s opened a plumbing shop called “C. Maddon and Sons Plumbing.” Carmen had nine children. Three of his five sons, including Joseph Anthony Maddon, who followed his father in the business, lived in the family apartments above the plu
mbing shop.

  Joseph’s firstborn son, Joe—or Joey as everybody called him—loved his father but hated the plumbing business. He sometimes would accompany his father on jobs just to enjoy his company, with no regard for learning the trade. What Joey did learn from his dad was that working hard and having fun were not mutually exclusive, and that a truly rich man did both.

  Joe the Plumber was the kind of diligent, humble man typical of the Greatest Generation. He served as a foot soldier in Germany in World War II but never talked about it. With a Phillies Cheroot cigar typically clenched in his teeth, Joe worked long hours—many of the pipes in Hazleton today were installed or serviced by C. Maddon and Sons—but made sure to always allow time with his son at the end of the workday. In baseball season they would play catch, or Joe would throw Joey batting practice. In football season Joe would hang an old tire from a tree in the backyard for Joey to practice his passes. And in basketball season they would retreat to the filthy plumbing shop in the basement and play basketball using rolled-up socks for the basketball and an old coffee can for the hoop. Joe and Joey would go at it amid the grime and dust until Beanie would call from the top of the stairs, “Time for dinner!”