Doc: Bryan Price says Reds' problem isn't leadership

Managing a baseball team is like juggling knives of burning ego while deciding whether to pinch-hit for your shortstop. Take 25 humans of disparate temperaments, backgrounds and wallet sizes and sell them on the notion of Team. Do this while maintaining their trust and your credibility, in the claustrophobic arena of a clubhouse, every day for seven months. Then hope you have very talented players.

By his own admission, Bryan Price was a little soft last year. Maybe soft isn't quite the right descriptive. Price was overly concerned with individual feelings, at the expense of the team. When you ask him what he learned most as a rookie in the corner office last season, that's what he says.

"At times I made some decisions based on what was best for an individual,'' the Reds manager said Friday morning, while driving to Goodyear from his home in Scottsdale. "I don't want to lose that altogether. But keeping 25 guys happy and playing as one is a very hard thing to do.

"Making sure our best team is on the field is what's most important, not getting caught up with being the fairest manager of all time. Because I really appreciate the hard work our players put in, it was easy for me to (think), these guys deserve playing time.''

Managing is so much more about setting tones and creating expectations than it is about filling a batting order or knowing when to lift a starting pitcher. More than any game, baseball rewards a deft and sure hand from the man in charge. A baseball manager doesn't have layers of position coaches to filter player discontent. He has a game every day.

He deals with players of different cultures and thus different definitions of respect and appreciation. Dealing with, say, Aroldis Chapman is never going to be the same as dealing with Jay Bruce.

Deftness matters. It can be a function of experience. As Price explained, "It's different when you're making last decisions for the first time.''

Price is a smart guy. He isn't chained to a Way. He showed as a pitching coach he could be both liked and respected, and very effective in getting across his message. Did he have a chance to flex those skills fully last year? Not entirely.

In a season of If Onlys, Price was as prominent as Joey Votto. Consider his honeymoon season to be rain delayed. Here's what he wants from his healthy team in the year of the Second Honeymoon:

A willingness to play out of position on occasion, or to hit in an unfamiliar spot in the lineup. An attempt to be selfless with playing time, or to be agreeable with whatever pitching role is assigned. An esprit de corps that overmatches personal triumphs.

"I can't blame any of our players for being focused on their careers first,'' said Price. "But for us to win, we have to buy into a whatever-it-takes-to-win ideology. We're asking the players to put the Cincinnati Reds ahead of their own individual success.''

He doesn't regret much about 2014, beyond the 86 losses. "I was myself,'' Price said. "I didn't change my demeanor because I was a manager instead of a pitching coach. I didn't go home with a ton of things left unsaid. I feel like I was straightforward.

"If players catch you talking out of both sides of your mouth, that's blood in the water.''

I asked Price for one surprise. Something or someone that we've missed all winter. He said we've overestimated the value of clubhouse leadership.

"As much as we talk about leadership or a lack thereof on this ballclub, I don't believe that's a reason we haven't been successful enough. I think there's a sense we're a rudderless ship. We're not. We have a lot more testosterone in our clubhouse than people want to give us credit for.''

The transient nature of today's player compromises leadership, Price thinks. Barry Larkin and Derek Jeter are antiquities. Not everyone can be Scott Rolen. But the standard has to come from somewhere. Can it come from the corner office? Should it?

We're about to find out.