He was just "Terry" when I first knew him, not yet accorded the nickname of his very successful father. But heck, that was 46 years ago.
He’s "Tito" now, a lock for Cooperstown with two World Series rings and a PODs unit full of other major league baseball managing hardware. He’s in his second season piloting the Reds, and he snuck the team into the playoffs last year. Yet a letter writer in the April 9 Enquirer questioned whether he’s worth keeping around.
It’s not the hardest-to-understand question in sports history. Cincinnati fans have cause to wail, as Terry “Tito” Francona’s second Reds team is an acute disappointment, accorded virtually no shot at making the playoffs and only a puncher’s chance of even finishing .500.
JJ Wetherholt | Inside NL Rookie of the Year debate
Though fans were happy enough to gobble plenty of spring training hype, coming off “the playoffs,” too many were in self-denial over last year’s team being really just barely above average, finishing 83-79 and copping the final National League Wild Card berth via tiebreaker. The Reds were then embarrassingly noncompetitive in the postseason at Los Angeles, swept out in two games where most of their runs came in garbage time. (Through six innings of each contest, they trailed 8-0 and then 7-2 before losing 10-5 and 8-4.)
It's looking like a grim final six weeks for Tito. As of Aug. 10, the Reds had just three games remaining against the three worst National League teams. And 16 games against the best three. Oh, and six more against the fourth-best Cubs.
But if you don’t already know this, know it now: Tito will wear whatever comes exceptionally well and deserve every fan’s utmost respect. And their thanks if he wants to come back in 2027.
The record speaks for itself
Forty-six years ago, we all knew − all of us who were regularly around him − that he was a kid with rare charm and huge potential, potential beyond just his playing talent. The young outfielder-first baseman for the Class AA Memphis Chicks was not only one of the Montreal Expos’ top prospects − a first-round pick in the 1980 MLB Amateur Draft − he also, at ages 21 and 22, was the toast of a relatively experienced Memphis clubhouse. He was, if you will, Sean Casey on a minor league stage.
You gotta play well to be like the Mayor, of course, and Terry, from the high-level University of Arizona program, batted .300 over 60 Memphis games after being sent immediately to the Class AA ranks. He was a mainstay on a club whose second half lifted it into the Southern League Championship series. In ’81, he played 41 more Memphis games and hit .348.
And he was just the brightest and most engaging of kids, without a hint of entitlement despite being a top draft pick and son of the first Tito Francona, a former All-Star selection as a player. He was humble, and the joy he took in the game was infectious. His relations with others − I was a beat writer for a Memphis newspaper − were never short of caring, respectful and fun.
Yes, Terry somewhat fizzled as a major league player, a 10-year journeyman who topped 30 RBI in a season only once (with 31). But when I briefly re-encountered him in Cincinnati in 1987 − me as a Post sportswriter and he as a .227-hitting Red − the freshness and sheer friendliness were still there. He didn’t need personal success on the field to be a quite swell human. He wasn’t afraid to admit a mistake or prone to act the victim.
I haven’t encountered Tito in the flesh since then, and he has traveled a managerial path with more texture than his glory years with Boston and Cleveland might lead one to recall. He managed four seasons in the minors before piloting four losing seasons with the Phillies, resulting in his firing on Oct. 2, 2000.
He bided his time the next three years in front-office and bench-coach jobs. But there clearly was just something about the guy that kept him winning more friends and more respect, and when the Red Sox gave him a managing chance in 2004, it was Katie bar the door for the rest of MLB.
You may know that he won two World Series in Boston, each by 4-0 sweeps, and that he reached another Fall Classic with Cleveland. But were you aware that in 18 full seasons with the Sox and Indians/Guardians, he won 90 or more games 12 times, averaging 94.4 for that dozen? He also managed a 60-game COVID season with Cleveland in 2020, and guess what? His 35-25 record projects to 94.5 wins for a full campaign. So essentially, if not officially, he had 13 campaigns of 90-plus wins in 19 seasons. In postseason play with those two clubs, he was 10 games over .500 at 44-34.
Imagine anything close to that, if you can, for the past few decades of Reds teams. And that’s why the Aug. 9 letter writer, for all her legitimate 2026 angst, is way off base (pun intended) in suggesting these Reds could do better than Tito. He’ll win here, if anybody can, and he’ll reflect only the best upon our city regardless of the numbers.
Here's hoping he stays
In closing, one more reason to respect Tito the man.
I was, of course, delighted when he signed his new Reds contract in winter 2024. Shortly thereafter, I used my Reds connections to get his club email address, and I welcomed him back while reminding him of our past Memphis association.
Well, sometimes you can just tell about things, and in a very brief exchange, it was clear he didn’t remember me. Why would he, in hindsight, when Memphis is such a speck on his amazing career ledger? But rather than being dismissive or irritated to have this near-stranger invading his inbox − as plenty of other Very Important and Extremely Busy sports stars might have been − he was gracious.
"Hey Jack. Thanks so much for the kind message," he wrote. "Made me smile! And feel old!!!"
Here’s hoping, Terry, that you grow a lot older while still managing in Cincinnati.
Jack Brennan is a former sportswriter for the Enquirer and the Cincinnati Post who later spent 24 years as public relations director of the Bengals. The Clifton resident is a member of the Enquirer’s Board of Contributors.
This article originally appeared on Cincinnati Enquirer: The Reds may be struggling. Terry Francona isn't the problem | Opinion
