This should have been the first month of the rest of Joe Torre's life.
He could have treated his wife to Sunday brunch, or cheered his 13-year-old daughter at her softball game. He might have joined his fellow New York Yankees' legends for the first weekend of the new Yankee Stadium, or offered expert analysis from a broadcast booth.
He should be enjoying retirement today, not managing the home team at Dodger Stadium.
That was the way he planned it. He would manage the Yankees one last time, last year, then go out with the old stadium.
The Yankees did not let Torre go out on his terms. The Dodgers almost certainly will.
His contract extends through next season. If the Dodgers get to the World Series this season, perhaps he could call it a career.
"Could be," Torre said.
Torre turns 69 in July. He is the oldest manager in the major leagues, older than all but one coach in the NFL, NBA and NHL, according to STATS LLC. Don Nelson, the coach of the Golden State Warriors, has Torre beat by two months.
If the Dodgers get to the playoffs this season, Torre would have led a team into the postseason for 14 consecutive years and 15 overall, tying Bobby Cox of the Atlanta Braves for both major league records.
The rest of Torre's Hall of Fame plaque is virtually engraved. He has a record 80 postseason victories, and he's on the verge of passing Sparky Anderson for fifth place on the all-time victory list. No one else has 2,000 hits as a player and 2,000 victories as a manager.
He isn't here to enhance his resume, to prove he can win without a $200-million payroll, to pad his retirement savings. He is here, he insists, because of the question that nagged him in the wake of his ugly divorce from the Yankees after the 2007 season.
"Could managing be fun again?" he said.
The Dodgers offered him the chance to find out, much to his surprise.
"They had a manager," Torre said.
The Dodgers' owners, Frank and Jamie McCourt, weren't about to let Grady Little stand in the way of Joe Torre.
They staged an elaborately choreographed news conference to trumpet the new hire, then steered him toward an obstacle course disguised as a spring-training schedule: three weeks in Florida, one week in China, two weeks in Arizona, and good luck getting to know your team.
On the other hand, the McCourts never interrupted Torre's dinner to tell him that he was an idiot, so that was a nice change from New York.
