In any other season, this would have been hypothetical. But after the San Francisco Giants hired longtime college coach Tony Vitello as their manager last fall, the question of whether or not a skipper needs big-league playing or coaching experience to successfully shepherd in the majors became a genuine consideration.
Vitello’s Giants were eliminated from playoff contention early and sit almost 30 games out of first place in the National League West. As the 2026 regular season nears an end and questions around hot seats continue, the idea could continue to be a hot topic into the offseason.
As part of The Athletic’s annual anonymous Player Poll conducted this spring, we spoke to 99 players across 23 teams to get their take on the topic. The players spoke on the condition of anonymity to candidly discuss a variety of issues.
For this, we asked: Would you feel comfortable playing for a manager who never played professional baseball?
“I would,” one player said.
Eighty-three players we spoke to said yes, a supermajority that often required a qualifier. The players’ comfort would depend on the manager’s knowledge and communication skills; some measure of trust would have to be earned — perhaps more so than with a former player — and any benefit of the doubt would stem from the hiring process itself.
Vitello was hired out of the University of Tennessee, landing the Giants job despite having no experience whatsoever in pro ball. He didn’t play beyond college, and his entire coaching career had been at the collegiate level. His résumé is a first for a big-league manager.
“I think he’s been very successful,” one NL West player said earlier this spring. “I think the skill set translates. I’m assuming there’s a learning curve because it is a different atmosphere, but if you’re good at leading people, that doesn’t go away just because it’s the big leagues.”
Not every player agreed that the transition is so seamless. When veteran outfielder Nick Castellanos was released by the Philadelphia Phillies in February, The Athletic reported that Castellanos had told teammates he didn’t trust manager Rob Thomson or hitting coach Kevin Long because neither had played in the majors (each had played professionally and had extensive experience coaching at the highest level).
“The only opinions that I honestly care about are (from) the ones that have carried the stick,” Castellanos said on Mookie Betts’ podcast last fall.
In this age of advanced analytics and motion capture technology, non-playing coaches have become fairly common, and when results have followed, they’ve become more accepted and even sought after. The Driveline training facility and the proliferation of its methods are one high-profile example, and the broader embrace of outsiders surely helped pave the way for a manager like Vitello.
“The best coaches sometimes aren’t the guys that play the longest or even play professionally,” an American League pitcher said. “I think it’s just a knowledge thing and being around different aspects of coaching and playing. Understanding the player side … the coaching side. The analytics side. Even, like, the old-school mentality of it. I think just because you play, you aren’t necessarily a great coach.”
Players have long accepted major-league managers whose careers stalled in the minor leagues, but for some, there remains a limit to just how thin a playing résumé can be before a manager takes over the big chair.
“A guy who hasn’t played since high school?” one skeptical player said. “That would be hard.”
Even college baseball — with its shorter schedule and regular off days — is no stand-in for the grind of a minor league season, which includes at least twice as many games as an elite NCAA program plays in a year.
“I played in college,” one position player said. “They ran our college like a boot camp. It didn’t make me better at baseball. I’m sure some people get better at baseball, but it’s a completely different game.”
Skeptics did not focus on a non-playing manager’s ability to handle the bright lights of a Major League ballpark or the scrutiny of a playoff series. Instead, their unease was rooted in the lack of shared experience. Since the farm system was introduced in the 1920s, remarkably few players have reached the majors without at least tasting the minors. Most played there for several years before reaching The Show.
“It doesn’t matter necessarily what level, but just to know that, like, ‘I rode the bus,’” one AL West player said. “I think one of the biggest aspects of it is seeing good friends get sent home and have to choose a new life. Early on in your career as a 22-, 23-, 24-year-old, you kind of see somebody’s story close, and that’s the end. Those are things that stay with you, and if you haven’t really seen that or felt that or experienced that, then you don’t necessarily know the same journey that everybody’s kind of rode on.”
One outfielder referenced the “game of failure” cliché, a tried-and-true baseball description that can apply to all levels of baseball — ask a Little Leaguer who just struck out in a big spot — but can feel heaviest when a professional career (a family, a livelihood) is on the line and a big-league dream is either within reach or slipping away.
“Being relatable in this game is the only thing that gives you a little bit of comfort,” one player from a Central Division team said. “Obviously, you (usually) have a guy that’s played, and it’s different when you can look the guy in the eye when some stuff’s going wrong, and you know that he feels the same way because he’s been there. When you’re playing for a guy that’s never played pro ball at all, they can’t really relate to you when struggles happen. They can say they can relate to you, but it’s not the same. They don’t know what it feels like.”
But “game of failure” isn’t the only cliché description of baseball. It’s also called a “game of adjustments,” a reality that, for some players, trumps anything else.
“If you can help me in any way, I don’t care where you came from or what you’ve done,” one pitcher said. “If you get the boys ready to play, someone who holds everybody accountable and just wants to play a good brand of baseball, I can get behind anybody who wants to do that. I don’t really care about your prior experience. If you can help me, then I’ll be right on board.”
Even the skeptics can keep an open mind to a manager who can help.
“I would have some questions,” one veteran with a championship ring said, “but I would give it the benefit of the doubt, to be honest. Like, I wouldn’t feel comfortable right away, but I feel like I will be open to learn.”
Here’s a partial list of things players said they need from a manager beyond experience:
“A manager is more of a controller and temperature-taker.”
“I think it’s more about managing egos.”
“All a player really asks for is just honesty and communication.”
“Personality is the most important thing.”
“You do not have to put on the cleats to be an unbelievable teacher and an unbelievable leader.”
“At the end of the day, it’s more about their presence as a person.”
And more than one player mentioned the fact that a manager is no longer the sole decision-maker. Clubhouses are filled with coaches and analysts, and decisions rarely come from a single source.
“Good managers surround themselves with good minds,” one NL pitcher said. “I think you can get so much out of a manager from a mentality perspective, a confidence perspective, a belief perspective, and none of those things come from experience. They don’t have to come from game experience.”
Put it another way: “I don’t think you need to have played to understand how baseball works,” another pitcher said. “It’s not that complicated.”
If there’s one thing major-league players can relate to, it’s the need to prove yourself all over again at the highest level. That’s true for every first-year player, coach or manager regardless of résumé or background.
“If someone can prove they can either control a clubhouse or make in-game decisions, I don’t really care who it’s from,” one infielder said. “From the things I’ve seen from a distance, (Vitello) can command a clubhouse. He can talk to guys. That’s half the battle there. If you’re real, guys will gravitate toward you. If you’re lying, they’ll see right through you pretty quickly.”
So, would Major League Baseball players feel comfortable playing for a manager who never played professional baseball? The best answer might have come from the one player who didn’t really say yes or no.
“It depends who it is,” he said.