Dugout fights could mean a playoff berth

Dugout discord. Clubhouse clashes. It’s unnerving any time guys wearing the same uniform scuffle.

But what does it really mean?

This year, a playoff berth. Half the teams projected to make the postseason have had internal fights.

Don’t those episodes turn winners into losers? Friends into foes? Threaten to tear apart a team?

In a word … rarely. More often confrontations address an issue that might have been festering, or are simply the result of a frustrating day. It’s all forgotten soon enough.

A heated argument between outfielder Jermaine Dye and shortstop Orlando Cabrera of the Chicago White Sox was caught by television cameras earlier this season.

“It was a misunderstanding,” Dye said. “When you’re together for so long, things like that happen, and after it was all said and done, we came up and hugged. It’s over.”

Also this season, the lenses captured an argument between Boston Red Sox teammates Manny Ramirez and Kevin Youkilis. Tampa Bay Rays catcher Dioner Navarro and pitcher Matt Garza shoved each other. Prince Fielder forcefully shoved pitcher Manny Parra in the Milwaukee Brewers’ dugout.

On each occasion, the players talked it out. Cool heads prevailed. Everybody moved on.

And, oh, by the way, all those teams are in the thick of pennant races. Losers they are not.

Trust me, countless clashes are not made public. I have no problem with these disagreements. It happens in every family. And it’s happened throughout baseball history.

How about Reggie Jackson and Billy Martin with the New York Yankees? Winners. Or the feisty Oakland Athletics of the 1970s? Champions. In my opinion, a pennant has never been lost because guys couldn’t get along in the clubhouse.

And how about the flip side of blowups and near-brawls, the hazy concept of team chemistry? Its importance has been a constant subject of debate.

The clubhouse culture has changed dramatically over the years. For the most part, the days of hanging out with your teammates for hours after a ballgame are long gone. I remember as a player, most of us couldn’t wait to get showered, face our media responsibilities and go home or get on the team bus to take us to the hotel. However, as the son of a former Major Leaguer – Manny Mota – I experienced the bygone Dodger days when Walter Alston and Tommy Lasorda were the managers and the players spent more time together.

I can’t count the times that after a tough loss or during a rough stretch, Willie Davis, Wes Parker, Don Sutton, Steve Garvey, Dusty Baker, Steve Yeager, Mike Scioscia, Orel Hershiser and many others would sit around and discuss the issues they believed were causing the team to underachieve.

Those are some of the most precious memories I have of growing up in a big league clubhouse. After a game, hanging out with the players and watching these men converse over a beer or address baseball issues during card games.

The topic was the game, and how to play it better. They addressed one another respectfully about the responsibilities inherent in putting on that uniform each day.

And, yes, sometimes they argued. On rare occasions things got physical. I knew it was about to get serious when my dad would give me and my brothers the “look,” which meant it was time to leave the clubhouse and go hang out with mom in the room reserved for players’ families.

Those Dodgers teams, in my judgment, had good team chemistry. Was it always perfect? Absolutely not, but the word “respect” was always in the forefront, and the polished communication skills of Alston and Lasorda helped diffuse tension when it became counterproductive.

But nothing rids a clubhouse of tension more than outscoring the other team. In a nutshell, winning leads to bonding in the clubhouse. Winning makes for happy ballplayers, and happy ballplayers get along with each other. Losing can lead to finger-pointing and to players becoming overly concerned with personal goals because team goals are out of reach.

People are going to remember teams for what they accomplish on the field, not whether the guys got along in the clubhouse. Although off-the-field confrontations add to the folklore of a team’s season, they do not necessarily contribute to wins or losses.

A successful team, led by a knowledgeable manager, maintains a professional approach between the lines. Occasionally tempers get the best of men. But players and coaches that respect themselves, their teammates, and the game soon render those instances irrelevant.