Bobby Valentine is just two wins shy of 1,000 as a big-league manager, but as we sit in the Bobby Valentine Sports Gallery Café in Stamford, Conn., he says his most overlooked achievement is "The Wrap."
|  | | Bobby Valentine guided the Mets to the World Series last season for the first time since 1986. |
Valentine opened this neighborhood sports bar on Main Street of his hometown in 1979. During his first year of business, there was a local banker who frequented for lunch, each time ordering a Club Sandwich. However, Valentine's toasters were always on the fritz, making it impossible to toast the bread. So one day in his frustration, he took the sandwich contents, rolled them up in a tortilla, and said, "Here. Call it Club Mex." Thus the Wrap was born. Or so he says. Others believe he's full of stuffing.
Valentine also owns restaurants in Arlington, Texas and Norwalk, Conn., but his heart is clearly wrapped up in this Stamford eatery. As the lunch crowd files in, he greets them, seats them and signs autographs.
He is a local hero, having starred in football at nearby Rippowan High School. His team pictures are scattered along the walls, along with photos of Mantle, Mays and Ruth. He points out his first Dodgers jersey hanging on the back wall. "I was lucky enough to find it on E-Bay," he says. "I don't know how the guy got it, but I had to buy it back."
Soon a courageous, middle-aged man in a Braves cap slips inauspiciously into a seat at the bar. He pulls his cap low over his eyes and quietly orders DiMaggio sticks. He sits alone, as the enemy should. Others around him dig into their Piazza pastas, Travis Stir-Fry Mans and Gold Glove Quesadillas as they catch last night's highlights on the surrounding screens.
"When we first opened, I put one TV up above the bar and people thought I was nuts," Valentine says. "They said, 'Why would you put on a TV when people are trying to enjoy a meal?' Now we have 35 of them."
On cue, his likeness pops up on one of the screens. He is trying to explain to reporters why he originally excluded Cliff Floyd from the All-Star team. He looks uncomfortable, which strikes me as odd. You think he'd be good at explaining himself by now. Since arriving in New York in 1996, he's been a forerunner on the Back Page -- from feuds with Todd Hundley and Pete Harnisch to Darryl Hamilton and most recently Floyd. In light of the bridges he's burned with players, management and the media alike, a disguise such as the one he donned in June of '99 following ejection from a game might not be such a bad idea.
"Is it a big deal to show up in a mustache and glasses and make some people laugh? Is that a big deal?" Valentine asks. "That you disagree sometimes with people you work with -- is that a big deal?"
He contends that all of the negative publicity is generated by lazy reporters who need to make stories out of things that are not stories and that he is not the Most Hated Man in Baseball.
"I've never done anything more than jaywalk and I don't know anyone that hates me," he says bitterly. "Some idiot wrote it one time and thought it would be nice to talk about. There's some people who probably don't like me and that's fine. Believe it or not, there are people who even don't like Joe Torre and people like that."
As we finish up, Valentine sits down at the bar and ironically orders a plate of Torre pasta. In what could be his first losing season since 1988, he might as well try the Luncheon of Champions.
Lisa Fenn is an Associate Producer for ESPN's "Baseball Tonight" and "Baseball 2Day."
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