Column: Rays' Maddon not bound by 'book'

The game had ended on a terrific double play, started by Evan Longoria on a slow grounder from Detroit's Miguel Cabrera. It was a risky play with the bases loaded in a one-run game.

Longoria could have thrown it home and gotten a force. That would have been safe. Closer Rafael Soriano would have had to get another out to secure the win, but no one would have said a word about it.

Instead, Longoria threw to second and went for the win. And because he did, the Tampa Bay Rays beat Detroit, 3-2, on Tuesday night at Tropicana Field to move 23 games over .500. Afterward, Manager Joe Maddon smiled and said, "That's what I love about our guys - the fearless way they play baseball. I love the fact we never take the safe way out."

He was talking about Longoria's decision, but he could have been talking about himself just as easily. If the Rays play without fear, perhaps it's because Maddon also manages without fear.

Part of the populace of Rays Village seems to have a problem with Maddon's constant juggling of the lineup or the way he can send listeners to the thesaurus to decipher what should be a simple declarative sentence.

Drives 'em nuts.

Then there are nights like this. Maddon again set fire to the proverbial "book" that is supposed to guide every managerial move, then watched that sucker burn to a crisp.

"I never read the proverbial book," Maddon said. "I've read a lot of other books, just not the proverbial one."

With two out in the top of the seventh, the Rays were ahead of Detroit by a run. The Tigers had runners at first and third and the dangerous Cabrera was on his way to the plate.

"The book" says you swallow hard and take your chances with Cabrera even though he already had a pair of doubles in this game. I can only imagine the buzz that went through the Village, though, when Maddon tossed convention in the trash heap and - gasp - ordered Cabrera to be walked intentionally.

That loaded the bases.

That put the go-ahead run at second base for Detroit.

The potential winning run.

"There was a bag open," he said with an impish grin. "It doesn't matter which one it was."

Maddon hadn't been reading wine labels or sampling his customary postgame grape before its time. He had sound reasoning behind the move. He knew that Detroit's next hitter, rookie Brennan Boesch, was batting 58 points lower against right-handed pitchers than Cabrera.

So Maddon waved righty Grant Balfour into the game.

"The safe way would be for me not to do that," Maddon said. "But for me, that would be inappropriate."

Inappropriate this.

Three pitches, three strikes.

As the baseball men like to say - good morning, good afternoon, good night.

"I thought it was a great decision," Rays starting pitcher James Shields said. "Sometimes a rookie will try to do a little too much. You've got to give Cabrera a little more respect in that spot than Boesch."

Problem solved. Inning over. Maddon called it a "very easy" decision to make.

"These are situations you think about during the day before the game," Maddon said. "If you see it before when things are calm, why would you change your plans when things get tight?"

Maddon had the percentages on his side, as he almost always does. But I've been around baseball a long time and, trust me, there aren't many managers who would have been willing to make that move.

They think about the things that can go wrong - a bleeder up the middle that scores two runs, or maybe a bases-loaded walk. They imagine what the general manager might say, or the questions they might get afterward, or the roasting they might take in the morning on sports talk radio.

Maddon thinks about the things that can go right.

Maybe that's why he manages without fear. Maybe that's why his players play the same way. Maybe that's why if you see the proverbial book lying around, don't bother asking Maddon if it's his.

He never read it. He never will.