Wedge’s work ethic stems from a throwback era

Winter Haven, Fla.- The sounds from Eric Wedge’s office after certain losses last season suggested more than one person inside.

Actually, the noise suggested a team of furniture movers.

Then the door would open to reveal Wedge all by his lonesome.  Sometimes his uniform top occupied a randomly targeted corner.

Cameras and microphones would not capture that manager.  They would get his guardedly calm twin Wedge standing perfectly still at his desk and delivering a post-game analysis as dry as a calculus lecture.

“If I am going to have a moment,” Wedge said Saturday, “it’s going to be by myself.”

Everything about the Indians’ seriously organized manager has a particular form and function.  Instead of flying, he drives to spring training because being on the road puts him in “a zone” and helps him think.  Leave at 4 p.m. Saturday. Arrive 9 a.m. Sunday.  Straight through.

“I got a message when he got there,” General Manager Mark Shapiro said.  “It said, ‘I got it all figured out.  I’m taking a nap.  Call me in five hours.’ ”

A nap? Shapiro and Wedge share more than philosophies.  They have synchronized their body clocks.  The difference is Shapiro gets up at 4:30 a.m. and goes to the gym.  Wedge skips that and arrives at his Chain of Lakes office by 6 a.m.

“I’m in this 100 percent,” Wedge said.  “This is a full-time gig for me.  To do what we are trying to do here takes that kind of commitment.  This is such a critical and important time for us.”

Wedge is what Shapiro calls an “atypical baseball manager,” living in Cleveland year-round, working out of his stadium office almost daily.

They will either light up the city with their plan to return the Indians to championship caliber in economical fashion, or they will burn up brain cells trying.

Neither has given a second’s thought to the proper club choice from 160 yards out of the rough with the wind in his face. Golf takes too long for Wedge.  “Four or five hours,” he says, shaking his head.  His idea of getting away from it all is to watch old movies on cable.  John Wayne – big surprise there- is a favorite.

In the off-season, Wedge and his wife, Kate, took a trip to Las Vegas, where he gambled sparingly.  Throwing money away rubs against the Midwest sensibilities of the son of a Fort Wayne, Ind., registered nurse and trucking company administrator.

Wedge’s vacation essay wouldn’t mention Las Vegas.  His highlight was meeting Bob Knight, who brought his Texas Tech team to play Ohio State.

“I grew up watching Bobby Knight,” Wedge said.  “You watch his team play Thursday night.  You watch them play Saturday.  And you watch his show Sunday morning.”

“Every other weekend probably, he’d walk off halfway through and they’d have to finish with a highlight reel,” Wedge said, laughing.  “But his intensity, his passion, the way he’d make sure his kids played the game the right way… that’s something I respect.”

Shapiro calls Wedge’s approach “a competitive advantage.”  He knows fans didn’t exactly see that in a 94-loss season.  What they saw was Wedge in the dugout constantly communicating.  They can take Jody Gerut’s word for the importance of that.

“As a player, it’s great to know where you stand,” said Gerut.

Mention to Gerut that Wedge is a fan of Knight and John Wayne, Gerut thinks about it – if not specifically about Wedge’s brief alone time after some particularly frustrating losses – and says: “A man’s man. That makes sense.”