Kurtenbach: Does SF Giants Manager Tony Vitello Want to Be Here?
We've all been there. Stuck at that table, nursing a lukewarm drink, and the one guy who just won't let up. He's the one who talks about the one that got away, the missed opportunities, and how things could have been different. Usually, you nod and hope he picks up the tab. But what happens when that guy is wearing a Major League Baseball uniform and sitting in a dugout, ostensibly discussing his current job managing the San Francisco Giants?
On Monday, Giants first-year manager Tony Vitello turned a standard spring-training media availability into a personal therapy session. It was unprompted, unfiltered, and bizarre. Vitello kicked things off with a question that implied a level of espionage, not the hiring of a baseball manager. For the next 20 minutes, he broke down the timeline of his hiring, discussing bullpen arms and Jung Hoo Lee, as if it were a movie plot.
In the midst of this monologue, he dropped a quote that should have every Giants fan questioning their decision: "Somebody tweeted it out," Vitello said, referring to the news that the Giants were targeting him. "I don’t know who told them. I wish I did. It might’ve changed the course of history if I would’ve known who did, to be honest with you."
He continued, "At that point, nothing was going to happen. But somebody decided that it was going to happen. Then, the whole world started spinning real quick."
This isn’t a guy talking about a tough decision to leave Tennessee. It’s a guy implying he was goaded into this job. If he could find the Twitter snitch who broke the news, he might still be wearing Volunteer Orange. The question arises: Does Tony Vitello actually want to be here?
It’s understandable that Vitello misses the college game and talks about it in every media session. His entire frame of reference is there. And he didn’t leave Tennessee to take over a World Series contender. But his comments on Monday didn’t come across as a man ready to tackle the NL West. It sounded like someone with significant second thoughts.
While I appreciate Vitello’s forthrightness, letting it all out in front of cameras and microphones isn’t helpful for a fan base that is skeptical of outsiders. The circumstances of Monday’s press conference were weird at best and alarming at worst. Vitello is no dummy; he tried to pivot, claiming it was time to divide the line in the sand. But the damage is done. He publicly bemoaned "what if?"
How can he, or anyone, counter the inevitable question this spring: If Vitello is down in the low-stakes breeziness of February in Scottsdale, what happens when the real pressure cooker of the big-league season heats up? What happens in June when the Giants are six games back of the Dodgers and three back of a wild-card spot? Will we be back at the table, wondering where it all went so wrong?
Vitello’s heart may still be in Knoxville, but his head needs to be in San Francisco. The question remains: Does Tony Vitello actually want to be here?
