"We got there quick, right to the doorstep, one swing away from going to the [2006] World Series, and then we did a little moonwalk. That's because we weren't ready."
Randolph isn't ready to accept the popular notions about his allegedly placid approach to the craft. He believes those notions are hardened by SNY's selective camerawork.
"They're the artists, I'm the canvas," Randolph said. "They paint the picture the way they want to. They want to show me when somebody gives up a home run or somebody makes an error, so they want to see me [using profanity].
"Well, my players are watching the monitors in the bullpen going, 'Look at Skip, he's cursing us out.' That's not how I lead. But when the game is over, I'm [on them]. 'And why don't you turn over a couple of [food] spreads?' I've done that. You might not know it.
"Why [isn't] SNY shooting me when I'm ready to go down the dugout clapping my hands and patting guys on the butt, schooling them during the game? I'm on the top step every game. ... Why don't you show that side of me so people can say, 'Wow, jeez, Willie's fiery'? ... You watch any manager in baseball, you see him look like a bump on the log sitting there. They don't move, they don't talk. I'm as animated and as demonstrative and as involved and as intense as any manager in baseball."
Randolph excluded Ozzie Guillen from the conversation, but
wanted to know why the traits often admired in the calm, cool and collected likes of Joe Torre are portrayed as flaws in Torre's former third base coach.
"Is it racial?" Randolph asked. "Huh? It smells a little bit."