It was a mid-September day, and Terry Francona was sitting at home in a rocking chair -- far removed, physically and emotionally, from the pulse of any playoff race or pressure.

As we talked over the phone, he sounded bubbly. He was recovered from multiple surgeries that addressed some of the health issues that compelled him to step aside as manager of the Guardians after 2023. He was enjoying golf, babysitting his grandkids, even attending a picnic with some old high school buddies. He was very clearly loving ¡°retirement.¡±

So of course, he took the Reds job just a couple weeks later.

That¡¯s how it is with born-and-bred baseball people like the man we call Tito. It¡¯s in their blood, and the physical difficulty the 65-year-old who has had too many surgeries to count will face suiting up again in Cincinnati and traversing the grueling baseball schedule is outweighed by the competitive fire.

Francona¡¯s three-year deal with the Reds is the first stunner of, I¡¯m sure, many in the Hot Stove season, and it makes a few things clear:

1) The Reds are serious about 2025

They must be, or else they wouldn¡¯t be going all out to lure Francona off that rocking chair.

The Reds took a serious step back in 2024, upending the good vibes they had going in. The 2023 team had fallen just two wins shy of October, and there was reason to believe the ¡¯24 squad would take the next step. But their supposed surplus in the infield eroded in Spring Training when Matt McLain suffered what turned out to be a season-ending shoulder injury and Noelvi Marte was suspended 80 games for performance-enhancing drugs. The Reds never really got on track.

While Elly De La Cruz emerged as an All-Star as hoped, free-agent signees Jeimer Candelario and Frankie Montas were disappointments (Montas was shipped to Milwaukee), Marte struggled mightily upon his return and more injuries intervened. But the issues that truly sealed former manager David Bell¡¯s fate were the fundamentals, or lack thereof. The Reds played sloppy baseball in the field and on the bases, and they went 15-28 in one-run games.

Can Francona solve all that? Who the heck knows? But we do know of his pedigree and penchant for getting the most out of the talent on his roster. Back in 2013, Francona took over a Cleveland team coming off a truly miserable, 94-loss season. He had the club in the playoffs the very next year. Cleveland was, surprisingly, a significant player in the free-agent market after adding Francona. Will the Reds operate similarly?

2) This is good news for Dusty Baker, Mike Scioscia and Lou Piniella

Francona¡¯s return to the dugout alleviates some of the crunch on the Hall of Fame¡¯s Contemporary Baseball Era Managers/Executives/Umpires ballot in December 2026. Tito had been scheduled to join Baker and Scioscia as first-time eligibles on that ballot, which could also include holdovers Piniella, Davey Johnson and Cito Gaston.

Piniella could tell you how precarious this process can be. He has fallen one vote shy of Cooperstown -- twice.

Here¡¯s how it works: There are 16 voting members on the committee. There are eight candidates on the ballot. Each voter can vote for as few as zero and as many as three candidates, and candidates must be selected on at least 75% of ballots cast in order to be inducted.

You see the issue here, right? It¡¯s a process that intentionally limits the number of worthy candidates who can achieve election in a given year. And these guys aren¡¯t getting any younger. Piniella is 81, Baker is 75 and Scioscia is 65. You are free to disagree, but, to me, all three of those guys are no-brainers for the Hall. Alas, the mechanisms might not allow all three to achieve election for the 2027 Hall of Fame Class. But at least Francona¡¯s expected departure for the process (assuming he fulfills this three-year contract) takes a little complication out of the equation.

3) The Ohio Cup runneth over

Having grown up in Ohio and covered both Cincinnati and Cleveland as a beat writer, I consider myself the world¡¯s foremost authority on the Ohio Cup ¨C the annual (now four-game) series between the Reds and Guardians. My lasting journalistic contribution to society was unearthing the actual Ohio Cup trophy when it had quietly gone into storage.

But I¡¯m the first to tell you the Ohio Cup needed some sizzle. Too rarely have Cincinnati and Cleveland both been on the contention spectrum while competing for the Cup. And sharing a Spring Training stadium in Goodyear, Ariz. -- and therefore facing each other umpteen times in the Cactus League -- takes the mystique out of the matchup.

No more! Francona, who played for the Reds in 1987, will now be going up against the Cleveland club he had so often referred to as his baseball ¡°home.¡± He¡¯ll be matching wits with his replacement, the young (and immediately successful) Stephen Vogt.

There is no MLB rule that will force Francona to divest his partial ownership of a downtown Cleveland pizza slice shop, and it¡¯s doubtful Clevelanders will throw tomatoes at him should he ride his famous scooter from the team hotel to the ballpark. But Francona will be the frenemy at Progressive Field, and that¡¯s just the kind of spicy subplot my beloved Ohio Cup could use.