Managerial Report Cards: NL Wild Card Losers

As I’ve done for the past few years, I’m going to be grading each eliminated postseason manager on their decision-making. We spend the year mostly ignoring managers’ on-field contributions, because to be honest, they’re pretty small. Using the wrong reliever in the eighth inning just doesn’t feel that bad on June 22; there are so many more games still coming, and the regular season is more about managing the grind than getting every possible edge every day. The playoffs aren’t like that; with so few games to separate wheat from chaff, every last ounce of win probability matters, and managers make personnel decisions accordingly. What better time to grade them?

My goal is to rank each manager in terms of process, not results. If you bring in your best pitcher to face their best hitter in a huge spot, that’s a good decision regardless of outcome. Try a triple steal with the bases loaded only to have the other team make four throwing errors to score three runs? I’m probably going to call that a blunder even though it worked out. Managers do plenty of other things – getting team buy-in for new strategies and unconventional bullpen usage behind closed doors is a skill I find particularly valuable – but as I have no insight into how that’s accomplished or how each manager differs, I can’t exactly assign grades for it.

I’m also purposefully avoiding vague qualitative concerns like “trusting your veterans because they’ve been there before.” Coverage of the Twins’ sweep of the Blue Jays focused on Carlos Correa’s crafty veteran playoff leadership, but Royce Lewis, Pablo López, and Jhoan Duran were key parts of Minnesota’s victory too. Forget trusting your veterans – the playoffs are about trusting your best players. Correa is important because he’s a great player and great leader, not because of the number of playoff series he’s appeared in. There’s nothing inherently good about having been around a long time; when I’m evaluating decisions, “but he’s a veteran” just doesn’t enter my thought process. Yesterday, I covered the two American League teams that lost in the first round. Today, it’s the senior circuit’s turn.

Craig Counsell, Milwaukee Brewers
Batting: D
Technically, the Brewers run a lot of platoons. In practice, they’re just offensively challenged. Swap around Sal Frelick, Brice Turang, Andruw Monasterio, and Blake Perkins all you want; the result is going to be uninspiring offensive production. That’s no reflection on Counsell; managers have to play the team as it lies, so to speak, and his task this October was to squeeze every last run out of a tough situation.

One thing you shouldn’t do in that spot? Waste outs. Yet in the second inning of Game 1, with a runner on first and no one out, Turang dropped down a sacrifice bunt. This wasn’t a bunt single attempt that led to an out, and it wasn’t a solitary try that might have occurred without managerial input. He tried to bunt for four straight pitches, and he aimed straight at the pitcher when he finally got one down. This was him sacrificing himself, pure and simple.

“But Ben,” you might say. “Brice Turang can’t hit!” That’s true; he slashed .218/.285/.300 this year. But he barely bunted all regular season despite that, because bunting is usually not a great decision. I understand that the Brewers are predisposed to try to score just a few runs and make them hold up, but they were torching Brandon Pfaadt. He only recorded eight outs, and he let eight runners reach base. You’re just giving that guy a free out? C’mon, man.

In fact, “what to do with Turang” covered most of Counsell’s managerial decisions on the hitting side. Arizona brought in a lefty to face him in the bottom of the third in a big spot (first and third, two outs), and Counsell stuck with him. Turang batted with the bases loaded and no one out in the fifth – again, Counsell stuck with him, and he struck out to start a disastrous sequence that ended without any runs scoring. In the bottom of the eighth, Counsell finally pinch-hit for him – with Jesse Winker, who hadn’t batted in the majors since July and who was probably still hurt. Winker looked quite bad and struck out.

There’s a logical inconsistency in these moves. If you trust Turang so little that you have him bunt with the platoon advantage against the worst pitcher your team is likely to see all series, you can’t possibly let him hit with the bases loaded and no one out, down a run. You probably shouldn’t let him face a lefty with a runner on third, either, though Turang’s defense is so good that I suppose that move is more defensible in the third inning. Still, Turang’s offense is so bad that the team made him bunt in a favorable spot, and yet he batted in two high-leverage spots.

In the second game, Counsell had fewer decisions to make, because Zac Gallen settled in after a rough first inning and went six strong. In the seventh, Counsell again pinch-hit for Turang with Winker, and Winker again looked overmatched and possibly injured. And that was it – no other Brewers pinch-hit all game. Turang’s spot came up again in the ninth. Monasterio had subbed into the game defensively, so he took the at-bat. I would have preferred to use anyone other than Winker as a pinch-hitter, and I would have pulled Turang in one of those two high-leverage spots in Game 1. I really don’t understand what Counsell’s plan was here.

Pitching: A-
The Brewers were dealt a serious blow before the series started. Brandon Woodruff was ruled out with a shoulder issue before throwing a postseason pitch, which led to reshuffling behind the scenes. But they did a great job of putting their best foot forward anyway. The Milwaukee bullpen was elite all year, and Counsell is one of the best in the game at using relievers.

In the first game, Corbin Burnes ran into trouble early and never regained his footing. He walked the first two batters of the fifth inning, and Counsell wasn’t messing around. He went to Abner Uribe, who had been electric since debuting this year, and Uribe got them out of the jam. Then he went by the book, using righties against the 3-8 portion of the Diamondbacks lineup and Hoby Milner against the switch/lefty/switch 9-1-2 portion. That left him with good matchups more or less across the board. He even saved Devin Williams to face the top of the order with a one-run deficit, getting his best reliever into the game in the place where his skills would be most helpful.

The Diamondbacks tagged Williams for two runs, which is just bad luck. But Counsell’s management of this game was impressive. You can’t win when your offense doesn’t score and your ace and All-Star reliever combine to allow six runs. That’s just playoff life. There was no choice but to use the entire bullpen; the game was easily winnable, and in a three-game series, that’s an easy choice. It just didn’t work out.

In the next game, that likely made Counsell slightly more inclined to lean on starter Freddy Peralta. For the Brewers to win the series, they’d need to win two games in a row, and Woodruff’s absence meant the potential decisive game would feature Wade Miley and a whole lot of relievers. Trying to steal a little bit of reliever rest was surely in the back of his mind as Peralta strode to the mound with a 2-1 lead to start the sixth, with number nine hitter Geraldo Perdomo due up.

That didn’t work out; three straight hitters reached, and Uribe unraveled somewhat in his second straight day of work. He threw a wild pitch, walked a batter, and surrendered two singles to give Arizona a 5-2 lead. I have to say, though, I find it hard to fault Counsell for his decision-making here. I’d prefer Peralta over a lot of the lesser lights of the Milwaukee bullpen, and while everyone always says you can’t manage for tomorrow, the future bullpen game should surely impact your relative desire to pull your starter.

This was really only a Corbin Carroll question; the two hitters who surround him are switch hitters, so it all came down to whether Counsell would accept some so-so relief work in later innings in exchange for having Milner face Carroll in this spot. I would have done the same thing Counsell did, for better or worse. Just because something doesn’t work doesn’t mean it wasn’t right.

Milner got his regular lefty swing in the next inning because so many Diamondbacks had reached, the rest of the Milwaukee bullpen held, and that 5-2 score ended up being the final tally. No one expected the Brewers to give up 11 runs in this series, and they certainly didn’t expect 10 of those runs to be charged to Burnes, Williams, and Peralta. That’s just the way the cookie crumbles; even if you make the right calls, the other team wins sometimes.

Skip Schumaker, Miami Marlins
Batting: B?
I don’t think it’s a coincidence that so many of these first-round managerial write-ups cover teams with bad offenses. The Marlins were the worst offensive unit to make the playoffs, and they struggled with both star power and depth. The major decision Schumaker had to make was when to pinch-hit for the bottom third of his lineup, and it’s not even like the pinch-hitters were that good: Yuli Gurriel is not what he once was, Garrett Hampson is an average hitter in a career-best offensive season, and Joey Wendle is a defensive specialist at this point in his career.

The plan, then, was to hope the Marlins starters overwhelmed Philadelphia’s aces. That plan didn’t work even a little bit, to no one’s surprise. The Marlins finally broke through in the seventh inning against Zack Wheeler in Game 1, which brought in José Alvarado with runners on first and second and two outs. Schumaker gamely went to his bench, bringing in Gurriel for Jesús Sánchez. To be honest, I’m not sure I like that switch even with the platoon advantage; Gurriel has been bad all year, and he was bad in September operating largely as a pinch-hitter and defensive replacement. I don’t hate this decision, because Alvarado is great against lefties and Sánchez looks truly lost against same-handed pitching, but these are the kinds of no-win decisions you’re faced with when an offense of Miami’s caliber squeaks into the playoffs.

After Gurriel struck out to end the threat, Alvarado stayed on for the next inning and Schumaker used Hampson in place of catcher Nick Fortes. I would’ve preferred Hampson over Gurriel with runners on, but that’s small potatoes. There just wasn’t much chance of affecting the outcome of this game via offensive substitutions.

The next game took that pattern to an even greater extreme. Aaron Nola went seven strong innings, and the Marlins just couldn’t get anything going off of him. By the time lefty Gregory Soto came in for the ninth, it was 7-0, and Shumaker elected to give Xavier Edwards a playoff at-bat. Given the leverage of the situation (nonexistent), I think it was probably a wise long-term move; he was the only remaining Miami position player who hadn’t appeared in a playoff game. So big respect for that move, a big shrug emoji for Shumaker’s options, and truly not much to report here.

Pitching: C-
Unfortunately for the Marlins, they also came into this series with one of the weaker rotations in the playoffs thanks to injuries that felled Sandy Alcantara and Eury Pérez. Miami’s best unit is probably its bullpen, so Schumaker’s plan had to be to hope the game was close when the bullpens got involved, then find a way to win from there. That means relying more on the bullpen than the team did all year, but then again, their starters were better during the regular season.

Jesús Luzardo got the series opening assignment, and the Phillies didn’t waste much time getting to him. Luzardo racked up a strong five strikeouts, but if he wasn’t missing bats, he was in trouble. The Phillies put 14 balls into play and hit half of them 95 mph or harder. Of the 10 hardest-hit balls in this game on both sides, half of them came off of Luzardo in his four innings of work.

Down 3-0 after four innings and with the heart of Philly’s order coming up, Schumaker decided to use his relievers. I’m not enamored by his choice – A.J. Puk to face Trea Turner and Alec Bohm is a strange handedness matchup – but the Marlins have so many lefties that they were going to have to win one of these lefty-pitcher/righty-hitter showdowns to keep the score close, and Puk did just that.

From there, it was mostly academic; the Marlins continued to not score, and Schumaker continued to use relievers while avoiding his top trio, who he correctly identified would be necessary the next day. Steven Okert gave up a run, but the Marlins avoided using the top of their bullpen and still held the Phillies to one run across four innings of relief work. They only scored one run, anyway; down three is a very low-leverage spot, so it’s smart to use good relievers without burning your best arms.

The next day, no one in the bullpen was off limits. The first decision was a weighty one: how long of a leash to give Braxton Garrett. Garrett was the team’s best starter down the stretch, or at least tied with Luzardo for that honor, but this team was going to go as far as its bullpen could carry it.

Schumaker drew the line after Bryce Harper popped out to end the third inning. Three of the next four batters were righty, and Bryson Stott doesn’t seem to suffer overly much from platoon problems thanks to his short swing and contact-oriented approach. It was a reasonable time for a righty reliever, and Schumaker used the best he had: David Robertson. Robertson entered and — whoops! — immediately gave up a home run. He recovered to get the next six batters in order; this was do-or-die time, and Schumaker clearly wanted to finish this game with only his best relievers.

To make the righty/lefty matchups work out, Schumaker tried to extend Robertson just one more batter, into a third inning of work. That’s a lot for a guy who only saw two full innings of work twice this year; I would’ve preferred to just bring in a lefty to face Bohm, because the alternative was having a lefty face Nick Castellanos later in the inning, and there’s just not much difference to me there. With a three-batter minimum and a stretch of the lineup that featured Harper surrounded by three righties, you can’t gain much of a handedness edge, so I’d prefer to avoid stretching my 38-year-old reliever to a third inning.

That wasn’t the deciding factor in the game, of course. Lefty Andrew Nardi came in and looked shaky right off the bat, walking Harper on five pitches. He eventually gave up a grand slam to Stott to slam the door, but again, what was Schumaker supposed to do here? He used one of his best relievers, a guy he trusted in big spots all year, and aimed him directly at Harper and Stott, the two lefties in this segment of the Philly lineup. One walked and one hit a grand slam. Life is cruel sometimes.

If I were Schumaker, I would have gone a little crazier and brought in Tanner Scott instead. Scott reclaimed the closer role from Robertson down the stretch and looked dominant, putting up a 2.31 ERA and 2.17 FIP across 78 innings on the year. It would have been wildly early to use him – he entered before the eighth only once in the last two months of the season, and that was in the seventh. Maybe Nardi would have just imploded later in the game anyway. Maybe Scott wouldn’t have been as good in that big spot. Even if the Phillies hadn’t scored at all, the Marlins only scored one run all game; they probably would have lost anyway. But with a runner in scoring position with no outs and the deficit already up to three runs, the Marlins had to be perfect. Scott was their best chance at that.

He ended up pitching a pointless eighth – three up, three down, 7-0 ballgame. JT Chargois chipped in with two outs. Really, though, the highest leverage choices that Schumaker made all game were when to bring in Robertson, how long to push Robertson, and who to trust to put out a fire. I think he got two out of three of them wrong, albeit only narrowly. I’ll just say this: In a series that was within three runs almost the entire time, the best reliever on either side threw one inning, and his team was down seven runs in that inning. Something has to have gone wrong with the process somewhere for that to happen.