In a week of many baseball predictions, here is another: Craig Monroe will have a terrific rookie season as a studio analyst for FOX Sports Detroit.
He’s going to be thorough. He’s going to be thoughtful. Above all, he’s going to be honest. I’m confident in saying that, because Monroe was refreshingly objective on a subject that confounds many ballplayers.
Himself.
I want to tell you a story about Craig Monroe that won’t be found in any box score or record book. It was 2007, one year after Monroe hit five postseason home runs to tie Hank Greenberg’s club record.
Monroe embodied the Tigers’ serendipitous run to the 2006 pennant, leading the team in homers only three years after enduring the 119-loss embarrassment. He was one of the few who lived the full arc of the franchise’s renaissance, from laughingstock to champion.
The 2006 season was my first as a Tigers beat writer for the Detroit Free Press , and Monroe was one of my favorite people on the team. I admired his journey, having arrived in Detroit on a waiver claim by way of the Rangers. He was devoted to his family, leaving early from the Tigers’ postseason-clinching celebration so he could attend his daughter’s birthday party. He learned Spanish as a way to relate to his Latin American teammates.
He had a knack for hitting huge home runs, including one at old Yankee Stadium that manager Jim Leyland later called the most important moment of the regular season.
By midway through the next year, though, it became clear that Monroe wasn’t part of the team’s future plans. He had turned 30, his salary was climbing upward, and the Tigers had a number of cheaper replacements in the pipeline.
I had a Sunday baseball column in the Free Press and was (slowly) coming around to the idea that it was OK for me to express a strong point of view in it. It speaks to how quickly journalism has evolved that, only five years ago, I subscribed to the theory that reporters reported and columnists opined and there was supposed to be a big, thick dividing line between them. (Now, that line is wiped away with the swiftness of a leadoff man kicking the chalk.)
So, rather reluctantly, I set about writing a column that explained why Monroe, erstwhile postseason hero, was no longer needed. Back then, the prevailing notion was that Cameron Maybin was going to become a perennial All-Star in center field, with Curtis Granderson moving to left. (Think about that for a moment.) That plan left no room for Monroe, whose power numbers already had dropped precipitously.
I once received a sage piece of journalistic advice: Better to have someone a little mad at you before the story than a lot mad after the fact. That in mind, I approached Monroe in the clubhouse a couple days before I had to turn in my column.
“Hey C-Mo, you have a minute?”
“Sure,” he said. “What’s up?”
I then attempted, as steadily as possible, to explain the rationale behind what I was about to write. I talked about Maybin and Granderson and maybe even Gorkys Hernandez. I can’t remember exactly what I said, but I tried to convey the point delicately: The team doesn’t need you anymore.
Players understand this concept in the abstract, but rarely in real time. They know that players are released, traded, or designated for assignment. But they don’t necessarily welcome the news when it has to do with them . In this instance, Monroe nodded his head and didn’t argue. I thought he understood. At least, I hoped he did.
Then Sunday came. I remember walking into the clubhouse at Comerica Park. I remember my friends from the other papers smiling at me with that raised-eyebrow look from elementary school – the one that says, You’re in trooooouuuuubbble. I remember seeing the Free Press on every chair of every player in the clubhouse. That’s the thing about Sundays: There’s no USA Today . There’s no Detroit News . What I wrote was there, on paper, an internal message board for those on the team who cared to read it.
Monroe had not yet arrived, which only added to my anxiety. I had suggested that the Tigers might trade Monroe to the Astros for Chad Qualls. Did I write it fairly? Had I gone too far? He has become expendable. Those were my words. At some point, I was going to have to defend them.
After what seemed like five hours but was more likely five minutes, Monroe walked in. He passed by me, then spun around abruptly and smiled. “Oh!” he exclaimed. “That story is running today, right?”
Uh, yeah. It’s actually sitting right at your locker.
As someone with a penchant for overanalyzing, I was probably making a much bigger deal about this than necessary. But I remember those as some of the more awkward moments in a career that has had its share. I followed Monroe to his locker as he picked up the paper, flipped to the sports section and plopped down in the chair, as if he was relaxing with a cup of coffee.
I remember others in the room looking over in our direction, perhaps curious to see what Monroe’s reaction might be. I, for one, was petrified. I imagined him chucking the newspaper into the wastebasket and declaring to all within earshot that he would never speak to me again.
But that is not what happened. I couldn’t see his facial expressions as he read the column – the newspaper was blocking it – but I noticed Monroe’s head nodding ever so subtly. One he was done, he folded the sports section neatly, slid it back into the rest of the newspaper, and looked me in the eye. Of all the words he could have chosen, he said the two I least expected.
“You’re right.”
What? I’m right ? I had prepared myself for public humiliation. Instead, I got the highest compliment any journalist would hope to hear.
There was no spite. There was no raised voice. There was no change in how Craig Monroe treated me after that. It may not sound like much, but to me it was a demonstration of class and professionalism that I’ll never forget.
In the end, I suppose both of us were right: That August, the Tigers traded Monroe to the Cubs. But that’s not the point. What’s relevant now is the sense of fairness and appreciation for the game that Monroe had. To this day, he remains one of the keenest baseball observers among the players I covered, and I’m glad he’ll be sharing those insights with a broader audience this season. Personally, I’m excited to call him a teammate.
Speaking of that, Craig, I have one request: If you sense that FOX is about to trade me, can you please give me the heads up?
