How long do modern MLB managers last?
Part III of our series on Major League managers examines tenure, turnover, and what actually drives stability.
When the Los Angeles Angels introduced Kurt Suzuki as their new manager in late October, he spoke about how much it means to him to get an opportunity to manage. He expressed gratitude and excitement to lead a team he once played for. The comments could have come from any other introductory press conference — until General Manager Perry Minasian revealed that the organization had committed to Suzuki for just one year.
“It’s a one-year deal, so he’s tied in with me,” Minasian said. “But for us, in sports, in general, everybody’s on a one-year deal. That’s just the way professional sports is.”
It was an unusually blunt acknowledgement of something that has become increasingly true: managers don’t have long to find success before teams start looking for their replacement.
In Part I of our series, we looked at who teams hire. In Part II, we tested which of those public-facing traits, if any, predict success. Now we turn to what happens after the hire.
How long do managers last? And what influences the decision to retain or move on?
Tenure isn’t oft-talked about, but it’s meaningful. It captures the point where expectations, performance, and patience meet. And it shows — in at least a broad sense — how long teams are willing to give a hire before they’ve seen enough.
When we look at the data, we see that the average tenure for managers hired this century is just 4.1 years, and the median is even lower at 3 years. Those numbers actually overestimate typical tenure because we credit managers who were fired mid-season with a full season. What we’re really saying is that the average hire lasts about three Opening Days.
Averages can be skewed by outliers, though. Another way to think about tenure is to focus on the distribution. Nearly 40% of managers never reach a third season. More than 70% never make it to a fifth. Only eight managers have reached ten or more seasons this century.
Now, you might assume that active managers will push the numbers up. Maybe. But while there are some longer tenured managers like Kevin Cash and Aaron Boone, almost two thirds — 19 of 30 — of active managers have been in their current positions for two seasons or fewer entering 2026.
These number add up to a lot of hiring. The average club has hired 6.1 managers this century. Kurt Suzuki is the sixth different Angels’ manager hired since 2000 — and that’s with the first 19 seasons covered by Mike Scioscia! The Marlins “lead” the pack, having hired ten different skippers:
One more thing about tenure worth flagging: when we tested tenure with our success metric, we found a faint but real signal. Managers who last longer tend to outperform expectation. Each additional year a manager lasts is associated with roughly two extra wins relative to preseason predictions.
That’s not to say that tenure causes success. It doesn’t. It means that the industry does a reasonable job identifying who is doing a good job and sticking with them. Tenure is usually a reflection of success rather than a predictor of it.
Taken together, we see a job that has little security and even less predictability. Why is that?
I would bet that no owner or GM hires a manager with the expectation that they’ll be going through the same exercise again in just a few years. They’re aiming to add someone who can lead the franchise through a sustained period of excellence. A number of forces contribute to the high turnover rates we see across the league.
The standards are high and unforgiving
Baseball is a zero-sum game. To win more games, someone else has to lose more. Judged solely by wins and losses — or by a metric that compares actual results to preseason expectations — it’s not possible for every managerial hire to look successful. The structure of the sport ensures turnover.
And sometimes, even winning isn’t enough. Only one manager can win the World Series each year; the other 29 fall short. That’s why, despite one of the highest regular-season winning percentages in history (.621), two World Series titles (to that point), and 27 wins over expectation during his tenure, fans and media outlets were calling for Dave Roberts to be fired this fall — just months before he guided the Dodgers to another championship.
Front office alignment matters
We’re talking about tenure for managers, but managerial stability is directly linked to front office stability. When a new general manager or president arrives, they often want to hire their own manager — someone they trust, communicate well with, and share alignment on team building.
Even when the front office doesn’t change, that relationship still matters. Managers can find themselves out of a job if they don’t maintain strong working relationships with baseball operations leadership. “Philosophical differences” has become a common refrain during managerial transitions.
The clubhouse effect
One of a manager’s core responsibilities is to inspire players and create an environment where they can be their best. If a manager loses credibility with players or the staff, it’s hard to recover. Culture isn’t an easy thing to measure, but it’s often one of the strongest drivers behind midseason firings.
Right manager, wrong time
The sentiment exists that the manager who is right for a rebuilding team won’t necessarily be the right one when the club is ready to compete. Rebuilding teams prioritize teaching, development, and working with young players. Contending teams want someone who can make in-game decisions under pressure and hold veteran players accountable. Whether that approach is right or wrong, it contributes to short leashes as organizations shift between competitive windows.
The hire doesn’t work out
Occam’s razor says the simplest explanation is usually the best one. Sometimes teams just get it wrong. No matter how thorough the interview process, there’s no substitute for how someone will perform once they’re in the role. Maybe the communication style didn’t translate, the staff didn’t gel, or the manager struggled with the demands of the job. In those situations, teams understandably prefer to move on quickly.
The job is complex and hard to evaluate
Finally, the role of the manager has evolved and expanded over the years. It’s not simply a matter of filling out a lineup card and managing a bullpen. Managers must process and integrate insights from research & development, sports science, and performance departments. They’re tasked with overseeing coaching staffs that are larger than ever. They are asked to talk to the media more frequently about a wider range of topics. It’s a difficult job!
At the same time, it isn’t easy for teams to evaluate managers. We discussed in Part II some practical challenges utilizing wins and losses to judge managers. It’s not necessarily easier to evaluate how well someone is establishing a culture, motivating players and staff, or communicating clearly. And even if teams feel they can evaluate the different elements well, there’s still the matter of what to do when the manager is doing well in some areas but struggling in others.
All of these factors combine to make managerial tenure one of the most unpredictable outcomes in the sport — driven as much by context and alignment as by anything the manager does on the field.
Part I of our series opened with the argument that manager is “arguably the most important non-playing position in a Major League organization.” The turnover we’ve seen this century doesn’t always make it feel like teams treat the role that way.
Looking at the tenure data, a clear reality emerges: managers have very little time to find their footing before teams consider making a change. Tenure is less a referendum on a manager’s ability and more a reflection of everything around them — expectations, alignment with the front office, clubhouse dynamics, timing, luck, and the growing complexity of the job.
That makes tenure hard to interpret from the outside and even harder to predict. And it reinforces a broader theme of this series: the visible traits that shape hiring decisions don’t tell us much about who will actually succeed once the job begins.
In the final part of this series, we’ll step back from the data and look at what all of this means for the hiring process. If teams want to make better decisions, what should they prioritize? And what qualities really matter when choosing someone to lead a clubhouse?