Dreaming of Raising a Red Flag

Even now, five weeks into his first regular season as general manager of the Cincinnati Reds, Wayne Krivsky can’t get used to the view.

From his perspective at Great American Ballpark on the banks of the Ohio River, it is lovely and all. Really, it is.

Nice stadium out there. Good ballclub down there, so far. Comfortable suite. Raindrops don’t make his notes run off the page and into his lap. Sun doesn’t fry his neck to where his shirt collar feels like a belt sander. Nobody squeezes past three times an inning to go to the bathroom.

It’s a wonderful job, the one he wanted for years, running the baseball side of a big league franchise, and an awfully long way from the frontyard in New Canaan, Conn., where his dad built a batting cage and many afternoons had Wayne’s high school team over.

The Reds have won 20 games and arrived at the season’s fifth weekend unexpectedly atop the National League Central, home of the last two NL champions. And maybe Cincinnati, its franchise having played in the contrail of another era for most of the last three decades, can grow into a baseball town again.

Now, if only the general manager could see the look in the pitcher’s eyes.

In the game’s subtle struggle between evaluators and administrators, where the soul of the player is measured against his line in the box score, the last GM hired is 51 years old, much prefers a seat behind home plate, and knows which way to point a radar gun.

As Terry Ryan’s assistant general manager in Minnesota for 11 years, and the 15 years before that with the Texas Rangers, Krivsky learned his way around an arbitration case, a contract negotiation and a spreadsheet. Together, leaning on a philosophy of player development driven by their scouts in the field, they pushed the small-market Twins from near-contraction to three consecutive division titles.

Hired by the Reds this spring, shortly after Bob Castellini bought the team, Krivsky dutifully reports to his luxury box for home games. But on the road, in major and minor league ballparks, he finds a seat in the stands and goes to work.

“The scout in me won’t ever leave,” Krivsky said, “because that’s my background.”

The immediate result, the one all of Cincinnati sees, is a workable relationship from Castellini to Krivsky to field manager Jerry Narron to Narron’s staff, and a competitive team.

The Reds lead the league in runs. Even with another injury to Ken Griffey Jr. and the trade that sent Sean Casey to Pittsburgh, they figured on scoring. The ballpark alone, one of the more favorable hitter’s venues ever constructed, ensured that.

The maturation of Edwin Encarnacion (25 RBIs in 26 games) and, in an under-the-radar trade with Cleveland, the addition of Brandon Phillips (23 RBIs in 22 games) have more than covered the loss of Casey, so the Reds have slugged their way to more than a few wins.

Out of character, their pitching staff has been average, average being plenty enough for Adam Dunn, Austin Kearns and the boys.

Bronson Arroyo, acquired from Boston for perennial what-if-he-ever-got-600-at-bats prospect Wily Mo Pena, and Aaron Harang, a career .500 pitcher until about 20 minutes ago, have combined for 10 wins and one loss. With Eric Milton and Paul Wilson on the disabled list, Red starters lead the NL in innings pitched, which has helped shelter the team’s so-so middle relief.

So the Reds, for the moment, stand with the Detroit Tigers as the team few saw coming. Most preseason analyses had the Reds finishing somewhere between the Pirates and smothered laughter in the Central. That is, unless Griffey stayed healthy, which he hasn’t, which hasn’t been a factor at all.

With a handful of deft moves -- bringing in Arroyo, Phillips and, yes, catcher David Ross -- Krivsky minimally has bought time to match the scouting and player development departments to his vision, and at most quick-fixed a team that lost 89 games last season into playoff contention.

There’s more on the way too. Griffey was healthy enough to play this weekend in Arizona, and Milton and Wilson are expected to return at some point, though the benefits of that are debatable.

“I didn’t have a plan in terms of wins and losses,” Krivsky said. “I wanted to bring the best people I could into the organization, both scouts and players. I wanted to add a few evaluators I was close to. ... It’s not me operating in a vacuum.”

They are the methods that worked for several years in Minnesota, a philosophy that grew on Krivsky.

“He’s a good baseball man,” said Ryan, the Twin GM. “He knows what makes players and teams and character click. Wayne digs in deep enough to know makeup, which is difficult to get. He’s always had a feel for that kind of depth, that gut feeling.

“The other thing he has down, he listens well. That comes with his time in the field. When you’re out there, you feel like you’re on an island. If people aren’t listening to you, you feel like you’re not worthy.”

For the first time in a long time, a decade since Marge, three years since Bowden, three months since Dan O’Brien, who many agree was a wonderful guy overmatched, the Reds seem to be in a pretty good place.

Krivsky is settling in, and acclimating to the view. He and his wife, Linda, have a place in Kentucky, with a large yard for the three dogs.

“She’s calling it home,” he said. “If I got her and the dogs happy, I’m doing OK.”