KC Royals manager Matt Quatraro reflects on impact, influence of his late mother

On Aug. 17 in Cincinnati, the Royals blasted the Reds 13-1 with a jolt from Dairon Blanco’s seven RBIs. As much as there was to revel in, the clubhouse was so subdued that music wasn’t even being played, as it normally would be after a victory.

That’s because longtime Royals veteran Sal Perez had told teammates there would be no celebration out of respect for manager Matt Quatraro — whose mother, Dorann Stagnitta, had died earlier that day.

Not that you would have picked up on that from watching Quatraro during his postgame interviews or game broadcast that day, as general manager J.J. Picollo observed.

Or in the intervening two weeks between then and Quatraro’s absence Monday and Tuesday for services before he returned for a 4-1 victory over Cleveland on Wednesday that ended a seven-game losing streak.

“You wouldn’t know that anything is on his mind,” Picollo said. “He comes to work and handles his job.”

But don’t confuse that professional decorum with depth of feeling in this tender time.

When I asked Quatraro Wednesday if there was anything he wanted to share about what made his mother special, his first thought was, “selfless.”

As a teacher, mother and grandmother, she was there “every step of the way” for him — including, he said, smiling, with managerial advice.

She came by those insights naturally enough, though: She and Quatraro’s late father supported Matt from youth leagues through attending as many of his minor-league games as they could, and going to spring training every year.

But as much as she loved baseball, a fan of every team but the Yankees, as he put it, she would have been just as into it if he’d pursued badminton. That’s the kind of mom she was, after all.

Luckily for the Royals, who already have won 20 more games than a year ago and remain on trajectory for one of the great turnarounds in the history of the game, Quatraro found his calling in this sport instead.

“Clearly, I wouldn’t be doing what I’m doing if it wasn’t for them,” said Quatraro, a terrific candidate for American League manager of the year whose team is 76-65 and 4.5 games behind Cleveland in the division race (with a five-game buffer for the last AL Wild Card spot).

Moreover, it’s easy to see a connection between her influence and the very way he does what he does.

The first time I sat down for an interview with the newly hired Quatraro in January 2023, I was struck by how he seemed to reflect his upbringing in Selkirk, New York.

That included his apparent inclination to nurture while allowing space to grow, a way instilled by parents he called “super steady” without micromanaging his life.

“Simple life lessons without telling you what to do or how to do it all the time,” was how Quatraro, one of their four sons, put it then.

If it wasn’t for a turn here or a twist there, he said at the time, he might even have followed in the direction of his parents and become a history teacher. He “fell in” to baseball, he said then, but “who says (a life in baseball) was better or worse, right?”

To read the obituary of his mother, who died at age 84 following an illness over the last few months, is to see a through-line between what she was known for and what stands out about his work.

“As a parent, she was the model of consistency,” her obit said. “Always a supportive mom and wife, always an understanding ear, a diligent worker, incredibly steady and levelheaded all while being fiercely independent.”

So even as he grieved over the last few weeks in particular, Quatraro in essence honored her by remaining a model of consistency, support, understanding and diligence with his team.

The job, after all, calls for him to be there every step of the way.

The last few days away from the team, he said, were “maddening. … You want to be here every second of every day with these guys. I mean, that’s what baseball is.

“It’s not a part-time sport. You do this every single day, day in, day out, for six, seven, eight months, hopefully. And when you’re not here, it really hurts. And to see the guys struggling makes it even worse.”

So he was in touch with Picollo and bench coach Paul Hoover and pitching coach Brian Sweeney.

“But by no means … micromanaging from a distance or anything like that,” said Quatraro, who noted his appreciation for his staff’s support. “I mean, these guys are in the fight. They’re here, and I’m not. So you’ve got to let (them) have a feel for what’s going on.”

That sort of respect for relationships is a well-understood hallmark of Quatraro.

His colleagues with the Royals marvel not only at how many people from his baseball past he keeps up with, but also how much time he makes for relationships throughout the organization.

It’s another way he seems to be his mother’s son.

“She has always been a loyal friend,” her obituary read. “To this day she maintained a strong bond with many colleagues from her teaching days. She also has cherished relationships developed through baseball connections as well as friends she made later in life. She will be greatly missed by everyone that was fortunate enough to have known her.”

And commemorated often by the son she helped prepare for this job.