Long before he took over in Atlanta, Brian Snitker was a Maconite in Barrington Hall who slept at Luther Williams
By Michael A. Lough
The Sports Report
centralgasports@gmail.com
Brian Snitker left Macon a long time ago, after a stint as manager of the Braves’ Class A South Atlantic League team.
A lot of teams and a mountain of success followed him after that final season with Macon in 1998.
But Macon hasn’t necessarily left Snitker.
He was back in town Thursday night as the guest speaker at Mercer baseball’s 16th First-Pitch Classic fund-raising dinner on the floor of Hawkins Arena.
Come back here Saturday morning for more on what Snitker had to say about the current Braves, some moves, favorite non-Braves players, and more.
He shared a trip back in time immediately.
“It’s nice to know that things never change in Macon,” the Atlanta Braves boss said. “In 1991, they were screwing around with that interchange out there. 2024, they still haven’t gotten it done.”
Luther Williams Field is the same, an old facility that’s gotten older yet still stands. For a fairly young baseball guy figuring out his post-playing future, it was also a home away from home.
“I slept at the clubhouse one year,” he said. “Terry Morgan (part of the operations staff) was here. I would get up at 3 in the morning and help Terry fold uniforms and towels. My son was four years old.”
His daughter Erin was steered to the press box at home games late in the action.
“She would sing ‘Root, root, root for my Daddy’s team,’” Snitker remembered.
The family moved into a fairly new development in northwest Macon known as Barrington Hall.
Around that time, Mercer head coach Craig Gibson was an assistant coach at his alma mater, but had met Snitker went both were working in Florida.
Suddenly, both were in Macon.
“I think he even said that he and his beautiful wife (Diane) bought baby furniture that my wife was selling,” Snitker said to the crowd of about 700. “She would go to a consignment store.”
He said in those early days that “we had to balance our checkbook to go to Kroger” and recalled living in the home of trainer Mike Grause with his family – they bought bunk beds at a consignment store – and staying in the mother-in-law room.
Snitker’s reputation is different from most professional managers and head coaches, more outgoing and friendly to those not in the game or business. And making friends adds up.
“Those were fun times,” he said.”You come to cities like this … My Christmas-card list when we got out of the minors, we had to stop. I couldn’t afford it, because it’d be like 500 people with all the friendships and close friendships that we made, just like here in Macon.”
Career concerns followed for the Braves lifer, who hoped to manage the big-league team. He didn’t rise up the normal career path to the position, but was never let go by an organization known for its stability.
He was patient.
“People’d ask me, ‘What are you going to do if you don’t manage in the big leagues?,” Snitker said. “I said, ‘I don’t need to manage in the big leagues for my career to be good.’ I feel like I’ve had a great career, and just being with the people …”
Hank Aaron may top the list, as an early Snitker booster, who clearly remained close to his heart.
“He would call you once a week or every 10 days,” Snitker said of Aaron’s habit with minor-league managers. “And the first thing (he) asked was “how’s the family?’ and how they were doing. It was never about baseball.”
Aaron also wasn’t prone to inquire about bonus babies when it was time for player promotion.
“He always wanted to call up oen of the tguys that wasn’t a big prospect. He wasnted that gritty guy, the guy that just played his rear end off. He wanted somebody who was grinding their way through.
“He wanted to make them the example and send them up for what they were doing.”
Snitker is second-winningest Atlanta Braves manager at 735-582, and his winning percentage of 55.8 is just behind Bobby Cox’s 57.6 percent.
He took over for Fredi Gonzalez in 2016 and went 59-65, then 72-90 in his first full season, completely reversing it a year later, the first of seven straight winning and playoff seasons.
Before taking over, he was quite the grinder, managing in Anderson, S.C., Durham, N.C. (twice), Sumter, S.C., Danville, Va., Macon (twice), Myrtle Beach, S.C., Greenville, S.C., Mississippi, and Gwinnett.
Structure was part of his plan before he got to Atlanta as a coach, with Cox and John Schuerholz, among others, more structure and rules than many players were used to.
“You can’t believe how many veteran players we’ll have in spring training, and guys would come seek me out,” he said. “ ‘You know what, it’s kindo f good to have rules.’”
Snitker has strong player relationships, but avoids the clubouse. Well, for more reasons than just allowing players their freedom.
“I kind of feel like that’s their domain,” he said. “I spend more time closing the door because I can’t stand the music that gets on in there. (Marcell) Ozuna gets on there … and I can’t take it.”
Snitker has the tone of somebody who knows how hard he worked to get where he is, and deserves it, but is extremely thankful for everybody along the road to get there.
It was not an overconfident Snitker on the Braves staff when Fredi Gonzalez was dumped. He and his wife were having breakfast in Buford, discussing a possible home buy in the area with the restaurant owner, to be nearer his daughter and her two children.
The office called.
“I was thinking they might get rid of the bench coach, but they’re not going to get rid of Fredi,” he said. “I thought they said ‘bench coach.’”
They said “manager”, and might as well have said “your dream has come true” to Snitker.
“I was stunned, quite honestly,” he said.
Then he had to keep it to himself, and didn’t tell his wife until after that night’s game in Gwinnett. He got home and told her he needed help packing.
“Where are you going?”
“Pittsburgh.”
“Why?”
“I’m going to take over the Braves.”
Boom. He didn’t sleep much that night.
And the memories of a long journey flowed Thursday, including back in 1990s, when he was in Macon watching a kid named Chipper begin his career.
“If you’d have ever asked me that year if I ever thought I would be standing here as a major league manager?” he said, “I’d have told you were crazy.”