Bobby V is as unique and compelling as his reputation has indicated.
Bobby Valentine promises to make things interesting in Boston, as advertised.My first interview session with Red Sox manager Bobby Valentine has just ended. Like any initiation, it was a group session, and less secret than, say, Skull and Bones.
Don't try to get in without a credential, though.
The meaty stuff was pretty good. According to the manager, Will Middlebrooks' offensive acumen is beyond his years.
Alfredo Aceves is a rare package of versatility and talent. "A pitching savant,'' the manager calls it.
It is believed to be the first time the word "savant'' has been used in a baseball interview since the A's were in Philadelphia.
Carlos Silva's throwing is bothering him, and he's out for now. A big-body guy tends to take longer than others to get himself going, which is why it's encouraging to see David Ortiz swinging so well - but it's still early.
I find myself interested in the messages but fascinated by the style. From the moment he chirps, "Let's go!'' as if he actually embraces media sessions, Valentine somehow makes mundane early-March updates sound compelling and fascinating.
Handling an interview does not measure how Valentine will handle his team, though media skill is not to be dismissed in media-crazed Boston. And the real test of any public figure is how he responds when things are going poorly, which is not the case now.
But now, on my first morning at Fort Myers, I can personally attest to what you have already heard: this spring and this atmosphere is very, very different, and not just because of a new ballpark that makes City of Palms Park look like Ebbets Field.
I ask no questions. This is a personal rule; I have arrived two weeks after spring training began, and I want one day to listen, gauge the mood and most of all, catch up.
Maybe my best question was asked yesterday.
The listening is fascinating. Usually, managers take great care in choosing their words and by the time they speak, a sanitized version is the result.
Valentine takes great care, too. Then he says something interesting, not always flattering to this player or that, but not always critical, either.
A question is asked about Middlebrooks. It seeks a more detailed definition of why his offensive acumen is beyond his year.
Behind his shades (which he later discards), Valentine looks straight at the questioner. For several seconds. I wonder if he is about to say "Didn't I just answer that?'' or otherwise elaborate why he feels the follow-up is unnecessary.
Finally, he speaks. "He'll see pitchers he has seen before, and pull down that menu of pitches he throws. He'll understand the speeds and angles.
"It's like he's carrying a little book in his head. It's not easy; you don't just go to Staples and buy the folder; it's not easy. It takes time.''
The feeling is left that the answer actually mattered to Valentine, which means the question did, too. To a media person, that's a blast of fresh air in a world where the answer is usually, "he knows how to hit the outside pitch the opposite way,'' or something equally ordinary.
No detail seems to small for Valentine's attention, which is one reason he's been known to get under people's skin over the years. A question about baseball, a plan for the bus rides, the science of piecing together the puzzle of a 25-man roster (which he says will actually be 26 or 27 at the start, due to injuries) - it all counts, it's all important in its own way.
Am I blown away, starry-eyed, a devoted believer in Bobby Valentine's ultimate success.
Certainly not. But an I intrigued and more curious by this new approach? Absolutely.
Even Valentine's critics have called him a "force of nature,'' or some other phrase that highlights his energy. It's unmistakeable, even now in a climate that is usually casual for such a veteran team.
He has missed this a lot - so much so that when he barks "I love the (Grapefruit League) bus rides!'', it sounds like he really means it.
Earlier this week, Valentine gave a hint to his bluntness that went almost unnoticed.
Asked why outfielder Ryan Sweeney has not shown the power some might expect, Valentine's answer was "bad mechanics.''
Probably true; I'm in no position to dispute it. Remarkably candid, too.
Valentine does not guarantee that everything about this team will answered by Opening Day.
"Everybody here who can play short will play short (in spring training),'' he says as one example. He does not know how the pitching situation will sort itself out, which will affect Aceves in particular - since he will be used in the way that best works within the needs of the entire staff.
He will make his decision that way, even though he knows Aceves would rather start, the better to "keep the mess from being created, rather than coming in to clean up the mess,'' as Bobby V said.
(These are my words, but it sounds like some sort of relief role is more than 50 percent likely).
But who knows? Valentine said if he thinks he'd have all the answers by April 5, "I didn't learn anything in the 24 years I've been doing this.''
My first interview session with Bobby Valentine has ended. I have not learned if he will succeed with this team.
I have learned that he brings as fascinating and unique approach to this job as I have heard.