(670 The Score) Joe Maddon would appreciate the allusion to Joni Mitchell's "Big Yellow Taxi" in this, a tip of the cap to the man who led the Cubs to victory in the World Series.
Don't it always seem to goThat you don't know what you've got til it's gone.
So it is, here, and so it will be.
I'm not advocating for Maddon's retention in any way, nor begrudging Theo Epstein for doing what he felt must be done in parting ways with Maddon on Sunday to punctuate a new phase of contention in a baseball landscape that's shifting more rapidly than any of us could have imagined when Maddon offered the room a shot and a beer upon accepting the job five years ago. I only want to make sure we recognize how special and unique this guy is and know that his place in Cubs history has been earned. Many years from now, our picayune quibbles with any lineups or tactics will look sillier than ever, no matter how real and important they ever felt in any moment.
Sui generis characters can too often become caricatures, left to ape themselves sadly as they overstay a welcome, often selling out their essence and work ethic. Ask longtime Bears fans about this.
Maddon has remained so much himself up until this bittersweet end, with his handling of the conclusion of a productive professional relationship becoming more impressive by the dwindling day. His head should be held high, even amid valid criticism of his work from the same fans whom he helped accustom to higher standards.
The Cubs will never have a better marriage of public front-man with contending team, and the magic of 2016 may never be recaptured as long as we live. For that, Maddon deserves so much credit, particularly as the team now moves to build its own television network largely on a massive and positive public footprint that he worked so hard to engender with his boundless desire to talk about all of what was happening at any given time. He was the constant not just over the 162 but half a decade of year-round attention from the winter convention through spring training and long into so many autumns that must not be taken for granted.
So you go ahead and bitch about Aroldis Chapman being in too long and Kyle Hendricks being out too soon or leadoff hitters or double switches or Steve Cishek or not quite getting the tone right in handling Addison Russell. I'm not saying that you're wrong about one single bit about it, only that right now -- today -- it misses the point.
Joe Maddon is and will always be an immensely significant presence in the history of Chicago sports, no matter what happens from here, whichever front-office proxy takes the reins to shepherd the evolving roster on the next phase of the journey.
He led the Cubs team that won the World Series and did it with boundless optimism and unfailing availability even in difficult moments.
As our coaches and managers become fearful and grumbling automatons and over-programmed metric robots, those like Maddon will be missed. He's special, no matter how well he may have done his job in maximizing this window.
In interesting and uncertain times for a sport whipped by the winds of change, Maddon can cede the helm of a venerable ship with more pride than apology, having flown the flag that matters most.
Dan Bernstein is a co-host of 670 The Score's Bernstein & McKnight Show in midday. You can follow him on Twitter @Dan_Bernstein.
