Mariners manager Eric Wedge is ready for a challenging second act in Seattle

Eric Wedge's alpha personality monopolizes him. You detect it in his talk, in his walk, in his swagger, in his handshake, in his eyes, in his laugh, in his hand gestures, in his rules and even in his Thomas Magnum-trumping mustache.

Everything about Wedge screams aggressive, confident and driven. And tough. The man must consume a testosterone scramble for breakfast. He can be that intense. And when he speaks, he is usually open and honest.

Except when it comes to one subject.

The new Mariners manager doesn't like talking about the 2007 American League Championship Series. His Cleveland Indians were up 3-1 on the Boston Red Sox in that series. They needed only to win one of the next three games to go to the World Series. At 39 years old, Wedge was on the cusp of managerial genius. And then Cleveland suffered another infamous sports collapse.

The Red Sox whipped the Indians by a combined score of 30-5 the next three games. Then Boston won the World Series. Cleveland, rocked. Again.

Though the Indians still seemed to be a rising team, it turned out to be Wedge's best chance at a championship during his seven seasons in Cleveland. Two years later, the team had been dismantled, and Wedge was fired.

He really doesn't like talking about that series.

"I learned a great deal, both good and not so good," Wedge says now. "That experience will make me more prepared when we get there in Seattle."

He won't revisit any specifics about that ALCS meltdown.

"That's not the way I operate," he says. "It was painful, but it was a good experience to go through it. I'm going to get back there with the Mariners, but losing a series lead, that's a place we're not going to be in again."

I press Wedge because that series is an important part of his background. Since the Mariners hired him in October, the franchise has sold him as a man uniquely skilled to rebuild a franchise. And it's true. Overall, he did good work turning the Indians' wreckage into a competitive product that came close enough to sniff the World Series. But he also had his struggles: just two winning seasons out of seven, two seasons of significant underachieving in 2006 and 2008, only one playoff appearance, which ended in heartache.

Managers or coaches in professional sports tend to perform much better in their second jobs. It's almost inevitable that they'll get fired at least once, usually multiple times. It's a harsh, unfair, volatile business. But what they learned from past experiences might be a better indicator of how they'll fare at the next job than what their previous record was. So I press Wedge on the 2007 ALCS, telling him I think he hasn't gotten over it. His answer was quite revealing, even though it came with a veil attached.

"It's not about me," Wedge says. "If I lay out a map for you, if I tell you everything about that experience, I might wind up criticizing individuals, and I don't want to do that. I want to be very respectful of the players and everyone on the team at the time. We just didn't get it done. You reflect like you have to, and you learn from it. I parked that a long time ago, and I'm better for it."

No excuses. Just silent growth. This is exactly the kind of leader the Mariners, who have done too much crying over spilled futility the past 10 years, need.

Can Wedge turn some of his Cleveland disappointments into greatness in Seattle? That will ultimately be the question.

There should be little doubt that, if general manager Jack Zduriencik delivers him the right talent, Wedge can make the Mariners competitive again. He proved that much in Cleveland, a franchise that offers challenges somewhat comparable to the Mariners' sad-sack situation.

Wedge provides the right mix of leadership, discipline, savvy, patience and attention to detail to develop young players such as Justin Smoak, Dustin Ackley and Michael Pineda. If they're good enough to make an impact, Wedge can bring it out of them.

But pulling a franchise out of a hole is one thing. Lifting it to greater heights is another.

A lot of Mariners fans, particularly the younger generation, look at the team's run from 1995 through 2001 as the new expectation, not an anomaly. The Mariners made their only four playoff appearances — in 34 seasons — during that period. Because of that success, the standard rose, but since then, the team has reverted back to its customary ineffectiveness.

But, interestingly, Wedge isn't expected to simply make the Mariners relevant again. The public is aching for its team to return to the playoffs soon, and more than that, it wants to erase a nasty fact about this ballclub: The Mariners and the Washington Nationals (formerly the Expos) are the only franchises that haven't played in a World Series.

The Texas Rangers exited the group last season. The Tampa Bay Rays left in 2008. The Colorado Rockies waved goodbye in 2007.

When the heck will the M's withdraw from embarrassment?

They had better do it soon, or they'll be the last woeful franchise standing. The Nationals have been awful long enough to put together a nice collection of talent. They could be legitimate contenders shortly.

Wedge, your challenge is to get the Mariners out of last place in more ways than one.

It's crazy to be talking about the World Series as the ultimate goal for a manager who inherited a team that has lost 101 games in two of the past three seasons. But that's the way Wedge can become a legend in Seattle and fully alleviate the pain of the 2007 ALCS.

"That's my grand vision, but ultimately, in the day to day, we have a lot of little victories that we have to achieve," Wedge says. "But I'm not afraid of saying I want to win a championship. That's what you play for. That's what the Seattle Mariners will be playing for. It'll take time, but we can get there."

History laughs at such bold talk from a Mariners manager. But Wedge isn't kidding. He means business.

Gaze at his eyes. He looks so fierce.

He's ready for a fight, and he's about to get one that may be even tougher than Cleveland. If he succeeds, though, his second act would be worthy of a standing ovation.

Jerry Brewer: 206-464-2277 or jbrewer@seattletimes.com, Twitter: @Jerry_Brewer