A backpack belonging to former NBA star Allen Iverson that contained $500,000 worth of jewelry has been found after it was stolen.

Philadelphia police said Tuesday that a 21-year-old male turned himself in for the crime.

"As of today, the jewelry that was stolen from Allen Iverson has been found and the suspect has been apprehended," representatives for Iverson said in a statement. "Allen thanks the Philadelphia Police Department along with the people of Philadelphia for their support in this matter. Thank you."

The incident took place around 10:30 a.m. Monday at the Sofitel Hotel in Philadelphia.

Police are withholding the name of the man who turned himself in because he hasn't been formally charged.

Brooklyn Nets guard Spencer Dinwiddie and Orlando Magic guard Terrence Ross will change their jersey numbers from No. 8 to honor the late Kobe Bryant.

Dinwiddie announced Tuesday on Twitter that he will change his jersey from No. 8, which Bryant wore, to No. 26. He explained that he chose 26 in part because his son, Elijah, was born on April 20 and Dinwiddie was born on April 6.

Fans also quickly pointed out that 26 is the sum of Bryant's other jersey (No. 24) and Bryant's daughter Gianna's jersey (No. 2).

The Nets' next game is Wednesday against the Pistons.

Honor your people.

Number 26, Spencer Dinwiddie. pic.twitter.com/Y3oZREw602

— Brooklyn Nets (@BrooklynNets) January 28, 2020

Dinwiddie has said he regards Bryant as his childhood hero. He got emotional when speaking to reporters hours after Bryant's death following the Nets' game against the Knicks.

"For him to tell me that in his book I am an All-Star and stuff like that," he said then. "Guys talk about the popularity contest before and you don't win things like that when [you're] me. So for him to say that I didn't need to be selected anymore because I was an All-Star and it wasn't just my family saying it, it was the guy."

The Magic announced later Tuesday that Ross would wear No. 31 -- instead of No. 8 -- beginning with Saturday's game against the Heat. Ross had worn No. 31 before switching to No. 8 this season.

Typically, jersey changes need to be approved the season prior to a player actually being able to change it. The league's rule on the matter states that any request to change a jersey number needs to happen by Feb. 15 of the prior season. In other words, a player would typically have another two and a half weeks to declare his intent to change his jersey number for next season.

In the same rule, however, the league states: "All changes requested after the deadline ... will be approved on a case-by-case basis," as they were in this case for both Dinwiddie and Ross.

This past summer, the league was willing to grant LeBron James a similar waiver to change his jersey number from No. 23 to No. 6 to allow incoming teammate Anthony Davis to wear No. 23, as he had throughout his seven-year career with the New Orleans Pelicans. But the league said Nike needed to sign off on it, which it did not, and Davis instead chose to wear No. 3.

The league also allowed Trae Young to wear Bryant's No. 8 for the opening tip of Sunday's game against the Washington Wizards. Young took an 8-second backcourt violation while wearing No. 8, then changed to his regular No. 11 for the rest of the game.

NEW YORK -- Growing up in Maryland, Kevin Durant watched Kobe Bryant from afar. Although they were 3,000 miles apart then, Durant said that turning on the television and seeing Bryant shake defenders, make nearly impossible shots and dazzle fans made him feel close to the Lakers legend.

"I felt like I knew him my whole life," Durant said after the Nets practice on Tuesday. "We see him grow up; we see him retiring, going into his second phase of life. It's just so many people that are sad about this, and it hurts to even think about it."

Durant was drafted into the league 11 years after Bryant. Over the nine years where their careers intersected, the two superstars faced off 25 times. Kobe has the edge in their overall record in those meeting -- beating Durant 14 times.

Durant said that while Bryant was always encouraging, most of their conversations were brief and pointed. Durant said the best advice he got from Bryant was, "just put the work in, man."

"Kobe didn't really have any long-winded messages for me as a player; it was just quick, short gems," Durant said. "And he led by example -- so he came in and worked, and you seen it.

"The craft was the most important thing, and mastering it, and everything you learn from that is what you're gonna be in life. And he poured everything into the game, and poured everything into everybody that was involved with him."

Durant's teammates have also been deeply affected by Bryant's death. Spencer Dinwiddie announced on Twitter that he will be changing his jersey number from 8 -- a number Bryant used to wear -- to 26.

The text from an unfamiliar 949 number arrived at some ungodly hour in the spring of 2016. I don't have it anymore. I wish I did.

"It's Kobe. Call me."

I assumed it was a hoax. I called my colleague Ramona Shelburne. I recited the number. She said it was the real Kobe.

I pivoted into fear. I started covering the NBA in 2010 as Kobe Bryant entered his twilight. It went downhill fast. An Achilles tear -- one that seemed to barely register to Kobe as a serious injury when it happened -- hastened the end.

Even before his injuries, I had been hard on Kobe from afar. His style of play had grown antiquated. As retirement neared, I argued Bryant was perhaps a hair overrated in historical debates. Had he heard and read that stuff?

What I found out when I called him was that even if Bryant had read any of it, he had bigger things on his mind -- grand plans to put in motion.

He told me that as he neared retirement, he was growing concerned about media coverage of the NBA. He felt in the endless focus on legacy and championships and trade machinations, the game itself -- the craft, the beauty -- was getting lost. The unofficial winner of #RINGZ discourse was tired of it.

He appreciated that I tried to write about X's and O's. He wanted to meet and discuss the future of media coverage.

He invited me to his office in Newport Beach, California, to watch Game 5 of the Eastern Conference finals, on May 25, 2016. I was petrified. This was a basketball test administered by Kobe Bryant. How many staff members and assistants were going to witness my humiliation?

I also felt ambivalent entering his orbit. It was and is impossible to separate Bryant the basketball supernova from the man who was accused, in 2003, of sexually assaulting a 19-year-old woman in a Colorado hotel. Fourteen months later, prosecutors dropped the criminal charge when the woman declined to continue to participate in the case after a series of courthouse errors, including the release of her name. (Bryant and the woman subsequently settled her civil suit out of court.) Bryant issued a written apology, saying in part, "Although I truly believe this encounter between us was consensual, I recognize now that she did not and does not view this incident the same way I did." That was a real and serious concession. It is hard to reckon with now.

I was uneasy when I knocked on the door of his office. He answered. He took me to a conference room with a giant TV. It was me and Kobe. An assistant left after bringing a six-pack of beer. Kobe asked if I wanted to split it.

For the next four hours, we sipped beer, talked hoops and analyzed what quickly became a boring Cleveland Cavaliers blowout over the Toronto Raptors. He paused the game a few times to point out nuances: something about Kyle Lowry's footwork on defense, a missed opportunity by some ball handler to attack a defender who had his feet angled the wrong way.

Kobe had no interest in becoming another media talker. He wanted to change the entire media discourse, likening the challenge that night to "turning around the Titanic." He almost burst from his chair as he spoke about gathering archival footage and making mini-documentaries about individual games -- a great Bill Russell performance, that kind of thing. He talked about working together, and in early 2017, he had me send him clips of James Harden and Russell Westbrook navigating various pick-and-roll defenses -- another test, I think.

I left that room thinking Kobe was a little too ambitious. But as we kept in touch over the years, I realized -- of course -- that was Kobe. That audacity is what made him great as a player. He announced it right away, in the lead-up to the 1996 draft, when this teenager and his agent, Arn Tellem, dissuaded the New Jersey Nets from selecting Bryant and angled him to the Lakers. Before that, as a high school phenom outside Philly, he would head to Sixers practices and challenge veterans to one-on-one games.

Before I had Jerry Stackhouse on my podcast in the summer of 2017, I asked Bryant about those games against Stackhouse. Bryant insisted Stackhouse never beat him. "Not once," he texted. "If he tries to lie, Tom Thibodeau and John Lucas were there." (Stackhouse has indeed disputed this.)

Kobe achieved a lot of his media ambitions too, with his Oscar-winning animated short and his ESPN+ film study series "Detail," and he was on his way to achieving much more.

Critics mocked Bryant's "Muse Cage" videos, in which he talked with a puppet snake named Little Mamba, but I admired him for going for it. He took big swings. He would accept failure, even humiliation. He would not blend in.

That is how he played, too, and that is why everyone -- fans, players, media -- was so drawn to him. Kobe generated loud debates about strategy and efficiency, but for most people who consumed the game, all of that missed the point. More than every contemporary save perhaps Allen Iverson, Bryant transcended statistics and scouting and even championships.

Bryant became an ideology, yes, but also a style. I spent Sunday night watching old Kobe playoff games. On the road in Los Angeles, without my daughter to hold, that is the way I chose to distract myself from the enormity of the loss: Bryant; his 13-year-old daughter, Gianna; John and Keri Altobelli and their daughter Alyssa; Sarah Chester and her daughter, Payton; Christina Mauser; Ara Zobayan, the pilot.

Man, Kobe was a beautiful player. Everyone compared his movements and tics to Michael Jordan's, and there is some of that. But as I watched prime Kobe again, I was reminded of Roger Federer. They both glide and change direction with liquid grace. They never seem to hit the ground with force. They float.

I watched Game 6 of the 2008 Western Conference semifinals between the Lakers and Utah Jazz, when Bryant sent Utah home with a 34-point, 6-assist, 8-rebound performance. Over and over, Bryant would take a screen on the left block, cross the paint facing the sideline, catch an entry pass on the right block, and turn in one motion -- legs kicking out -- for a midranger. It was the smoothest damned thing in the NBA.

When Utah overplayed that cut, Bryant countered. He would hit the brakes, and flare out for open jumpers on the left wing.

That is what so many in the league admired: Bryant practiced every skill within a skill, every trick of footwork, every post-up move (the up-and-under step-through was a personal favorite), and watched enough film to know how to deploy them in specific situations against specific opponents.

That knowledge translated to defense. He knew every game plan and individual tendency. He was a rover and a gambler, but he had an edge. If he made a mistake, it was one of overactivity -- of overestimating how much he could do. He almost never lost focus or botched some element of a game plan.

The fascinating, sometimes frustrating thing about Bryant's career was that he could have been any kind of player he wanted to be. He was that skilled.

He is being remembered as the last of the midrange gunners -- the great despot of Hero Ball -- but his career did not have to go that way. Phil Jackson's triangle offense actually nudged Bryant's game in the opposite direction -- toward selflessness, movement, random screening.

He went long stretches as dutiful entry passer for Shaquille O'Neal, but he knew how to score within the triangle -- when to take over. No one could stay in front of Bryant when he faced up from the triple-threat position. His first step was lethal. He set defenders up with jab steps and feints. He could go left or right, from either wing.

The Shaq-Kobe partnership crested in 2001, when the Lakers went 15-1 in the playoffs and laid waste to the league. Shaq was the fulcrum, but Kobe was as close to an equal partner in those playoffs as any second superstar has ever been.

If you want to pick one Kobe game from that run, I might suggest Game 4 of their second-round sweep of a 55-win Sacramento Kings team. It was a nip and tuck game. At halftime, Bryant told Jim Gray on the NBC broadcast that he was having the most fun he had had in a long time. Gray asked why. Because we're losing, Bryant replied, according to Gray's telling. The Lakers were so dominant, Bryant was happy to be trailing in a playoff game.

He finished with 48 points and 16 rebounds. (Bryant could really rebound. He won a pivotal Game 4 in the second round in San Antonio the next season by tracing the arc of a Derek Fisher miss, sprinting in from the 3-point arc, leaping and extending his left arm back as far as he could because he had somehow overrun the rebound, snaring the ball and putting it back in.) He earned 19 free throws, the same number he took in Game 3. He cracked double digits in free throw attempts every game that series. You could not keep prime Bryant off the line. In that 2008 series against Utah, he attempted 96 free throws in six games -- 16 per game.

Bryant played every second of that Game 4 against the Kings in 2001. One first-half possession almost made me leap from my chair as I rewatched it. Bryant brought the ball up the left wing and ran a pick-and-roll with Horace Grant. Bryant faked right toward Grant's screen, then veered the other way. He sliced through an open lane, and dunked on Vlade Divac, who was guarding Shaq on the block.

It is the kind of play that makes you wonder what Bryant could have done in a modern spread pick-and-roll system. Bryant was a great passer when he wanted to be. He could read layers of help defense in a blink, then whip the pass they didn't see coming.

Lowe Post Podcast: Nichols, Shelburne on Kobe

The triangle coaxed Bryant toward the better angels of his nature, but the system and the spacing hemmed him in, too. Today, could he be a 6-foot-6 point-forward averaging 30 points and nine dimes per game? I bet he could have been.

He might never have wanted that. He chafed at the triangle, and broke from it enough to irritate Jackson, Tex Winter and some teammates -- even beyond O'Neal, with whom he feuded until the Lakers broke them apart.

The stubbornness and determination that made him great also alienated teammates and worked against the Lakers here and there as Bryant's athleticism waned. There were times he would have been better had he struck a healthier balance in his game. But had he been wired to find that balance in the first place, he might never have been as great as he was. Maybe you don't get great Kobe without the flawed, maddening, sometimes cruel one.

There is no debating the results Bryant achieved with the triangle. Shaq's dominance in their early 2000s three-peat does not lessen Bryant's centrality. Replace Bryant with someone 5% worse, and who knows how many championships those Lakers win. The 2000 and 2002 titles bookending that 2001 romp were perilous: surviving the Portland Trail Blazers in 2000 in a wild Game 7 featuring That Lob, and that infamous 2002 seven-game conference finals against the Kings.

There is a tendency to sort of rush past the Lakers' 2009 and 2010 titles with Pau Gasol and Lamar Odom: LeBron James wasn't ready. Kevin Garnett got hurt. The San Antonio Spurs were in a weird in-between era. Don't. Winning even one is hard. Kobe's closing game against Phoenix in the 2010 conference finals is another classic, complete with Bryant patting Suns coach Alvin Gentry's butt after a fourth-quarter dagger.

Jackson left in 2011, and the triangle gave way to Mike Brown and then Mike D'Antoni. But it was too late for Bryant, the personnel a clunky fit with D'Antoni's system.

The last few years of his career veered toward the carnivalesque. Without the structure of the triangle, without the high stakes of a championship run, Bryant indulged the shoot-first, shoot-always side of his game. (Some non-Lakers executives later snickered about hoping rival teams would send young stars to learn bad habits at Mamba Academy.)

Kobe seemed to delight in calling his young teammates "soft like Charmin," with cameras watching, early in the 2014-15 season. There was something performative about Bryant's transition to cantankerous, foulmouthed old head. He was crafting a persona.

His late-game shot selection -- his occasional ball hogging -- had always been performative in some ways, even if it was also very effective in his prime. Bryant could not go down as a Jordanesque clutch player unless he proved willing to take every clutch shot -- to risk failure. He made enough to blot out the misses. He became indomitable in the eyes of some fans -- a myth. For others, his failures were heroic: They proved Bryant's courage.

But Bryant believed he would make those shots. It was delusional toward the end, but the underlying confidence -- the fearlessness -- is what defined his career.

It is what attracted fans and players to him, even basketball aesthetes who wouldn't have played that way. It was telegenic. You couldn't take your eyes off of Bryant. Dirk Nowitzki -- unassuming, soft-spoken, everything Bryant was not on the surface -- told me in 2013 that he would stay up late watching Bryant's games on NBA League Pass. "To me, he's the No. 1 player over the 15 years I've been in this league," Nowitzki said then.

Nowitzki wasn't talking about Bryant's all-time ranking relative to Tim Duncan or anyone else. That wasn't the point. The style, the degree of difficulty, the viewing experience -- that was the point.

The 2015-16 Hawks were in flight from Washington, D.C., to Atlanta during Bryant's final game in Los Angeles. Those Hawks were about as stylistically far from Bryant as possible: pass-first, equal opportunity, the team for basketball nerds. And yet they were, players and coaches recalled, huddled around the one player -- Dennis Schroder -- whose phone was picking up enough Wi-Fi to provide updates of Bryant's point total. "Everyone was going crazy, especially when it got to 50 and then 60," Kyle Korver said.

Everyone has a Bryant story. Every NBA story somehow connected to Bryant. Our last text exchange happened almost exactly a month ago. I was writing about Ben McLemore's tortuous journey, and McLemore had a Kobe story.

McLemore worked out at Mamba Sports Academy last spring while he was out of the league. As he walked in one morning, he ran into Bryant, who offered words of encouragement: "Stay ready. Your time is gonna come."

Those words buoyed McLemore because they came from Bryant. I texted Kobe to ask whether he recalled the conversation.

I didn't know if he would respond; Bryant in retirement was protective of family and vacation time. But I suspected he would be happy ESPN was digging into the story of a journeyman.

"Yup," Bryant responded an hour later. "Glad to see him doing his thing."

Of course he was watching. He probably would have been ready with some pointers soon. Kobe wanted what he knew about the game to live on in others. The details mattered.

The Houston Astros have focused their managerial search on veteran Dusty Baker, a source told ESPN's Jeff Passan, but a deal has yet to be finalized.

Baker, 70, would become the oldest manager in the major leagues. Having last managed the Washington Nationals in 2017, he ranks 15th in all-time wins with a 1,863-1,636 record over 22 seasons that includes a National League pennant with the San Francisco Giants in 2002.

Baker would replace AJ Hinch, who was fired along with general manager Jeff Luhnow by owner Jim Crane on Jan. 13 following MLB's findings that the team illicitly used electronics to steal signs during its run to the 2017 World Series championship and again during the 2018 season.

The Astros also have reportedly interviewed nine other candidates, including former managers Buck Showalter, John Gibbons, Brad Ausmus and Jeff Banister.

In addition to his 10 seasons with the Giants, Baker spent four seasons managing the Chicago Cubs and six seasons at the helm of the Cincinnati Reds.

USA Today reported earlier Tuesday that the Astros were set to hire Baker.

Cincinnati Reds slugger Eugenio Suarez had surgery Tuesday to remove loose cartilage in his right shoulder and will be limited at the beginning of spring training, the team announced.

Suarez, 27, suffered the injury recently in a swimming pool, according to the Reds. He's expected to be ready to play "near the beginning of the regular season."

He posted career highs in home runs (49) and OPS (.930) last season.

The Reds are making a major push to win the NL Central, having committed up to $164 million in free agents this offseason.

Cincinnati most recently added Nicholas Castellanos ($64 million) to a free agent crop that includes Mike Moustakas ($64 million), outfielder Shogo Akiyama from Japan ($21 million) and pitcher Wade Miley ($15 million).

NEW YORK -- Eduardo Nunez is back in New York, this time with the Mets.

New York said Tuesday the former All-Star infielder has agreed to a minor league contract and will report to big league spring training.

Nunez, 32, has a .276 average with 58 homers, 309 RBI and 141 steals in 10 big league seasons with the New York Yankees (2010-13), Minnesota (2014-16), San Francisco (2016-17) and Boston (2017-19). He was an All-Star in 2016 and homered in the 2018 World Series opener against the Los Angeles Dodgers.

New York also announced the minor league deal it agreed to last week to retain backup catcher Rene Rivera and also a minor league contract with right-hander Erasmo Ramirez. They will report to major league spring training.

The 29-year-old Ramirez is 32-39 with three saves and a 4.40 ERA in 92 starts and 101 relief appearances for Seattle (2012-14, 2017-18), Tampa Bay (2015-17) and Boston (2019).

Game notes
New York said right-hander Ron Darling, left-hander Jon Matlack and infielder Edgardo Alfonzo will be inducted into the Mets Hall of Fame before a game against Pittsburgh on May 17. Pitcher Al Jackson, who died last August, will be honored with the Mets Hall of Fame Achievement Award.

It was August 2019, still a couple of months before David Ross would be introduced as the 55th manager of the Chicago Cubs. It also was the day before the Alabama Crimson Tide football team would begin practice.

Alabama head coach Nick Saban had asked Ross to speak with his team about the one thing Ross knew more about than anything -- being a good teammate, hence the title of Ross' book: "Teammate." And Ross wasn't going to pass up his own opportunity to learn from one of the best in any leadership role. Ross knew he wanted to be a manager someday, and who better to pick the brain of than one of the best college coaches of all time.

"I got about 30 minutes in his office, alone," Ross said recently of Saban. "Just talking about sustained success. That constant drive.

"He never takes for granted the success he's had. He's always looking forward. What's new? What's to come? Where are their faults? Where can they improve, rather than focusing on the success they've had? That stood out to me."

It might have stood out because it applies to the team Ross would take over later in 2019. It wasn't long ago that the idea of sustained success was a foreign concept on the North Side of Chicago, but after winning the World Series in 2016, the Cubs had failed to regain their mojo, their edge, their eliteness. The result was a change in managers and "threats" from the front office to break up the core of the team. In stepped Ross, who has been on a mission to learn.

And learn he has. From Aaron Boone on the interview process and even tips about going to London, to Alex Cora on juggling managing and family. Dave Roberts gave him advice on the delicacy of hiring and firing coaches. A private meeting with Joe Torre at the winter meetings was an education in and of itself. And of course, there was his predecessor; no one has been more kind and gracious than Joe Maddon.

"I even picked Bernie Williams' mind on a private flight to Maddon's charity event late last year," Ross said. "I've just tried to talk with everyone. Maddon has been great. I've learned so much from him and others, some of which I'll take with me into my new job."

Nick Saban

Before Ross would engage with any of his managerial brethren, he was standing before the Alabama football team. By then, Ross had spent time with Saban in his office and knew what the coach wanted him to impart to his team, according to another person in the room.

"It was a room filled with a lot of guys with NFL hopes, and the assignment for David was to get them ready to begin the season as better teammates for each other," said Don Yaeger, the co-author of Ross' book. "Saban had identified a little selfishness as one of the reasons the team flamed out in the national championship game the year before against Clemson."

Yaeger said one way Alabama tracks effort is with electronic devices implanted in equipment worn by players. The numbers interpreted by the devices went down late in 2018, and Saban took notice. This perennially elite program was wavering a little.

"You can climb to the top of the mountain and it's a quick descent if you let it," Ross said. "You have first-rounders left and right in that program. My job was to help stars become role players."

This was part of the conversation in Saban's office, before Ross spoke with the players.

"No matter how well things are going, if you're not bringing your full and very best at every stop, the competition keeps getting better and you can't just turn it back on," Yaeger said. "It was a really powerful discussion."

They are different sports with different types of athletes -- from their ages to their skill sets --but that concept wholly applies to the Cubs, a team full of stars who were not better as the sum of its parts over the past couple of seasons. The speech Ross gave to the Crimson Tide players might not be that different from the one he gives to his own team next month.

"We are always looking for ways to improve our team and the leadership within our organization," Saban said via email. "David spoke to our team ... and did a fantastic job of stressing the importance of being a good teammate and how building those relationships in the locker room only enhance the performance of your team when everyone challenges each other. I know David will do a great job of leading the Cubs organization."

But remember, Ross had ulterior motives when visiting Alabama. He wanted to learn from Saban as much as Saban wanted him to teach his players about being a good teammate. The half an hour spent in Saban's office was eye-opening.

"The button that closes the door is real," Ross said with a laugh. "You walk in and the door closes. Everything is scheduled to a T. We went down about three flights of stairs, and at every door there was someone, knowing he was coming, holding the door open. This guy is to the minute.

"He was so involved in the coaches. That's something I'll take from that. It was cool to see him coaching and not just delegating. It was the first day, but he got right in the middle of everything."

It would be something Aaron Boone would echo to Ross later: Be involved. Meanwhile, back in Saban's office, Yaeger was busy observing Ross picking the coach's mind.

"I was watching him processing all this," Yaeger said of Ross. "And we were just there on a speaking engagement, but he's taking notes and writing things down. It was an awesome, very raw conversation.

"David asked Saban, 'Given all that you experienced, what happened last year that you were so great for so long but flamed out on the national title stage."

The answer reflected back to why Ross was there in the first place: to remind a group of elite players why it is important to be unselfish as teammates. It can be the difference between winning and losing.

Ross chuckled at his final recollection of his day with Saban.

"At the end I said, 'I don't want to take all of your time.' He said, 'You're not. You have three minutes left.'"

Aaron Boone

The similarities between Ross and Boone are hard to miss. Both are somewhat recent retirees from playing, and both came down to manage from the broadcast booth without any previous coaching experience. Unlike Boone, though, Ross had three years in the Cubs' front office to prep him in a different way than the old-school path of coach to manager. Considering Ross' time as a backup catcher was spent as a coach of sorts as well, some found it laughable when the Cubs were criticized for hiring someone without experience. Ross has plenty.

"There's a lot of ways to skin a cat and a lot of ways to gain valuable experiences," Boone said in a phone interview. "Teams are smartly trying to find their best person for the job, from wherever that is. Instead of checking a couple boxes and only going that way, teams are finding good leaders from different places."

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The early success Boone has had with the New York Yankees also has helped take away some of the stigma that "first-time manager" had in front offices.

"I talked to Boone both before and after the interview process," Ross said. "Just about all those little things. I probably talked to him the most."

So what was the advice?

"You definitely have to prioritize and identify each and every day as things you want to touch," Boone explained. "What do you want to be involved in? I think it's important to have something you dive into a little more specifically, something you sink your teeth into."

For Ross, the presumption would be working with his catchers. As good as All-Star Willson Contreras is, he still hasn't reached max potential in some of the finer points of catching, from calling a game to framing.

"It connects you to the club," Boone said of getting your hands dirty as manager. "It connects you to your coaching staff. And I think it's invigorating and important."

Boone's best advice for a new MLB manager is to expect the unexpected. As players, their world was so small -- as compared to their world as managers. You just have to assume your day won't always go as smooth as you'd like, according to the Yankees skipper.

"The unknown," Boone said. "You're dealing with upwards of 50, 60 people, including clubhouse staff and players and families. You're dealing with people here. Things come up."

Ross wasn't done with Boone. After getting the job and learning about some of the bigger issues facing a manager, they dove into some of the finer details, even discussing the Yankees' trip to play the Boston Red Sox in London last summer. The Cubs will make the same journey this June, facing off against the St. Louis Cardinals.

"I said it was kind of like the Super Bowl," Boone recalled. "It is a lot, but our guys really embraced it. The travel does zap you a little bit. And because you have those off days built around it, the rest of the season can be a challenge because you have less off days at other times.

"To a man, we really embraced and enjoyed it."

Joe Torre

Perhaps the most surprising and rewarding conversation Ross had this winter was with one of Boone's predecessors with the Yankees who is now Major League Baseball's chief officer.

"He asked to have a meeting in this gigantic boardroom," Ross said of Torre. "I figured it was for all the managers about rules or umpires, so I walk in and Joe walks in and it was just us."

Torre simply wanted to lend a hand to another former player-turned-skipper. Ross wasn't going to pass up the chance.

"He went straight from being a player to a manager and knows how close I am to those [Cubs] guys," Ross said. "He gave me some great advice, balancing information from the way I was brought up with the way the game has changed."

Torre gave the same input Ross has heard often this winter -- from his bosses and Maddon and Boone.

"Good outcome or bad outcome, you won't be happy with yourself if you don't stay true to yourself," Ross said. "Torre told me I'll sleep a lot better at night if I'm true to myself."

It sounds like simple advice, but Boone said "early on" that can be tough, because you're getting pulled in so many directions.

But mostly Torre's advice revolved around players.

"He told me some great stories about Cecil Fielder and Darryl Strawberry, about how you deal with players," Ross recollected. "Probably some I can't share. You have to shoot them straight. They want the truth, no matter who they are, from 25th man to a role player to a minor leaguer."

It is the same message Maddon often cited when Ross was playing for him in 2015 and 2016: Tell a player a tough truth and he might dislike you for a day or two; lie to a player and he won't ever respect you again. Ross has preexisting relationships with several Cubs stars, but he views that as a positive, not a negative. They know he is coming from a caring place, so an honest truth might not hurt as much.

"Good outcome or bad outcome, you won't be happy with yourself if you don't stay true to yourself. Torre told me I'll sleep a lot better at night if I'm true to myself." David Ross on the advice Joe Torre gave him about managing

"He's had so much success in the game but also some failures," Ross said of Torre. "As helpful and open as you could ask for. Most successful guys talk about their failures more than their success.

"Talking to Joe Torre was my favorite thing I did at the winter meetings."

Andy Green

The Cubs' new bench coach was a curious hire at first glance. It was smart to bring on a former National League manager to help. But many figured it might be more of a grizzled veteran such as Fredi Gonzalez or even former Cubs manager Jim Riggleman, instead of someone who is actually four months younger than Ross. But Green and Ross have hit it off immediately, with the latter relying heavily on the former's recent experiences as San Diego Padres manager from 2016 through last season. Green's record (274-366) wasn't great, but remember the concept of learning from failure?

"When I first got the job in San Diego, I was on planes flying all over the country, meeting everyone as fast as possible, running myself into the ground, trying to do things immediately like it had to be done yesterday," Green said recently. "I told [Ross] you didn't have to do everything."

It actually was antithetical to what Ross was thinking as a guy who likes to talk things out. In fact, the transition from Maddon to Ross won't be much of a change for reporters, as both can fill up a notebook. But Maddon realized that when it came to players, less is often more. He had fewer team meetings than most and shorter conversations with players, but in taking over, Ross figured he needed to talk -- with everyone.

"Green told me he reached out to everyone and almost overcommunicated and realized that may have backfired on him," Ross said. "You have to earn it, so to speak. It was nice to hear from him. Little things like that, he's helped out a ton with."

Green and Ross also have been discussing strategy, like how to handle the new rule regarding a three-batter minimum.

"The good thing is he will have never managed the other way," Green said of Ross. "His first instincts will have this rule in mind from Day 1."

Others

The parade of advice didn't stop there. Conversations with Alex Cora, Dave Roberts, Davey Martinez and others produced insight Ross will tap into when needed. In fact, there might be only a handful of current managers he hasn't talk to.

"Davey [Martinez] and I talked about having those struggles [in 2019] early on, then coming on at the end," Ross said. "How to weather that storm.

"I have so many people. Gabe Kapler texted me the other day. [Clemson Tigers football coach] Dabo Swinney and I have exchanged text messages a while back. He kind of had a big game coming up, so I haven't talked to him. ... I'm going to ask him a lot about delegating to the coaching staff as well."

The education never stops in baseball, especially for a first-time manager taking over an iconic franchise. The Cubs have talent that has underachieved at times since the team won the World Series. It is Ross' job to bring it out of them again -- but this time not as their teammate or even their friend. And despite all the advice and kind words -- from Saban to Torre and all the others -- Ross is cognizant of being his own man. He will be the one judged, not those who gave him advice.

And Ross will inherit a fan base that loves him but also is antsy, to say the least. For two winters now, the Cubs have done nothing to change the dynamic on the roster while seeing wins and playoff appearances become harder to achieve. The latest blow was losing Nicholas Castellanos -- an instant fan favorite last summer -- to the division rival Cincinnati Reds. Add that to the slew of relievers the Cubs had to pass on, due to budget restraints, and Ross wouldn't be wrong in thinking he has to do this himself. It's on him to get more from what has been less.

"I also want to go in with a clean mind and assess things for myself," Ross said. "I'm ready."

Earlier this winter, I researched free-agent spending over the past decade and discovered the Cincinnati Reds had committed just $121.1 million in free agency during the 2010s, the lowest total of any team. Less than the Rays. Less than the Marlins. Less than the A's. The Reds do not spend in free agency.

That's why I was skeptical when Reds owner Bob Castellini said at the beginning of the offseason that the team was ready pursue some free agents and spend some money. It sounded like hollow words from the owner of a franchise that has never gone down that road -- the Reds did extend the contract of homegrown star Joey Votto back in 2012 before he reached free agency, but their biggest free-agent signing of the decade was the $30.25 million they gave Aroldis Chapman.

Castellini has lived up to his words. The Reds have agreed to a four-year, $64 million deal for outfielder Nicholas Castellanos, on top of already signing Mike Moustakas ($64 million), outfielder Shogo Akiyama from Japan ($21 million) and pitcher Wade Miley ($15 million). Castellanos does have opt-out clauses after 2020 and 2021, but this is potentially $164 million invested in free agents, more than Cincinnati had spent the entire previous decade.

The Reds clearly see the door ajar in a winnable division and embarked on -- for them -- this Saks Fifth Avenue spending spree. Give them credit for making a big push at what appears to be an opportune time. Last spring, I remember talking to Chaim Bloom, then with the Rays and now the Red Sox general manager. I mentioned the unfortunate timing Tampa Bay faced. The Rays had won 90 games in 2018 but missed the playoffs as the Red Sox won the AL East with 108 wins. The Rays looked strong heading into 2019 -- sure enough, they would win 97 games, good enough for a wild card -- but were facing the Red Sox and a loaded Yankees team. Bloom said that a club can't time its window of contention -- there is too much you can't predict with your franchise, let alone your division rivals.

The Reds, however, are trying to time things just right, even though they're coming off six consecutive losing seasons. It's safe to say that there is no 2018 Red Sox or 2019 Yankees in the NL Central -- and the rest of this division has been pretty quiet this offseason:

• The defending division champion St. Louis Cardinals, winners of 91 games, have basically done nothing, losing outfielder Marcell Ozuna to the Braves while signing Korean lefty Kwang Hyun Kim.

• The wild-card Milwaukee Brewers won 89 games and lost Moustakas and Yasmani Grandal, who combined for 63 home runs, and traded away Zach Davies, who led the rotation in innings and ERA. They've tried to repair those holes with some Scotch tape, signing Brett Anderson, Justin Smoak, Avisail Garcia, Omar Narvaez, Luis Urias, Eric Lauer and Josh Lindblom.

• The Chicago Cubs, hamstrung by a self-imposed restriction on their payroll, have done nothing of note coming off a disappointing 84-win season and have lost Cole Hamels to the Braves and manager Joe Maddon to the Angels.

• The Pittsburgh Pirates finished last and just traded away one of their best players for two prospects.

The Reds do have 16 games to make up on the Cardinals in the win column, but factor in a full season from Trevor Bauer, an improved Nick Senzel in his second season and better late-game results from the bullpen and it's not ridiculous to consider the Reds the division favorite. Or at least a strong contender.

On the other hand, there is a general rule about the offseason to keep in your back pocket: The team that wins the offseason doesn't always win the regular season. We can go back to last year, when the Phillies signed Bryce Harper and Andrew McCutchen and traded for J.T. Realmuto and Jean Segura. Look at all that star power! The Phillies improved by one win.

Indeed, the depth charts and projections at FanGraphs are not overly optimistic about the Reds, seeing them only about three wins better than the Pirates (although for some reason the playing time projections include Castellanos but not Akiyama, not that Akiyama's projections would change things all that much). On the computer screen, FanGraphs likes the Cubs:

Cubs: 40.6 WAR
Brewers: 36.7 WAR
Cardinals: 35.3 WAR
Reds: 33.1 WAR
Pirates: 30.4 WAR

Of course, seven wins is well within not just the margin of error of any forecasting system, but within the range of randomness and luck of any baseball season. The NL Central is wide open. The projections do point to the issue here: Exactly how good is this offense? The Reds finished 12th in the NL in runs last year. Heck, the Pirates were 11th and scored 57 more runs. Moustakas is more of a big name than a big star, as he hits home runs but has just a .319 OBP over the past three seasons. Castellanos bashed doubles all over the field in 2019 -- 58 of them -- but he's also not a high OBP guy with a .337 mark last year and .337 over the past three years. To be fair, those two are clear offensive upgrades over what the Reds had last year at second base and in the outfield corners (for most of the season), so the lineup looks better.

The Reds won't get much offense at catcher or shortstop, however, and then you have to consider Votto. Coming off a .261/.357/.411 season that made him a below-average hitter, he's a little bit like late-career Todd Helton on those pretty good 2009-10 Rockies teams. That's nowhere near the player he was, but he still gives you some OBP, takes good at-bats and gets respect, and the Reds don't need him to hit in the middle of the lineup. Given his struggles against lefties in 2019 (one home run in 152 at-bats), the Reds might even considering platooning him. Still, if he's below average, that would be subpar production from three positions, and you don't really know what you might get from Senzel (.315 OBP, 89 OPS+ as a rookie), Akiyama or Aristides Aquino (great in August, terrible in September).

The Reds scored 113 fewer runs than the Cubs last year -- and that's before you even get to some of the potential defensive issues here. Moustakas will be out of position at second base, and while, yes, the shift can help cover for some of that, every team plays the shift now and Moustakas in the shift is not the same as Kolten Wong in the shift. Castellanos was better in the outfield last year but is still a below-average defender. Galvis is average at best at shortstop. Senzel is a converted infielder learning to play center field. Akiyama turns 32 in April, an age when most center fielders have to move off the position.

FanGraphs projects Reds position players with 12.8 WAR -- better than just the Tigers, Marlins, Rangers and Orioles. Ouch. That feels a little low. I mean, I don't think I'm taking the Mariners, Pirates, Royals or Giants lineups over Cincinnati's. But those are the numbers. The pitching staff, however, projects seventh best in the majors, with a strong 1-2-3 in Trevor Bauer, Luis Castillo and Sonny Gray, with rotation depth in Miley, Anthony DeSclafani and Tyler Mahle (former Rays prospect Jose DeLeon is floating around here as well if he can stay healthy). That feels like a rotation with which you can win a mediocre division.

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And the offseason isn't over. The Reds have a glut of outfielders now, including Phil Ervin, who crushed lefties in 2019 (.349/.411/.628). That has led to speculation that another move might be on the horizon -- such as including Senzel in a trade for Francisco Lindor. That's a nice thought, but given Senzel's rookie numbers and injury history, I'm not sure he's enough to be the centerpiece in a Lindor trade.

It's been a fun offseason for Reds fans and it's always a positive sign for the game when a small-market team actually opens up the checkbook. We'll have plenty of time for predictions, and let's see how the rest of the season plays out -- Nolan Arenado to the Cardinals? Kris Bryant traded away? -- but right now the NL Central looks like a four-team fight.