Fredi González managed against the Phillies. Now he’s found a ‘fulfilling’ way to give back: coaching at Ursinus College.

When Ursinus College announced its baseball staff for the 2025 season, one name stood out.

Bench coach, Fredi González.

It sounded familiar, so the players began to Google him.

They saw that González was a major league manager for 10 years and a minor league player for six. But what really caught their attention was an 18-minute video on YouTube titled “Every Fredi González Ejection.”

The compilation spread quickly. Jakob Cantor, a shortstop for Ursinus, found it first. He sent it to some of his teammates, who sent it to other teammates. By the time González showed up for his first practice on Feb. 1, virtually all of Ursinus’ players had watched the highlight reel.

“I’m like, ‘That’s my legacy?’ ” González, 61, said with a laugh. “‘These 19-year-olds search me and see my ejections? Nothing else?’ ”

They see much more now. The veteran manager has given Ursinus a baseball education like no other. His catchers — the group he works with the most — have refined their defense and allow fewer passed balls and wild pitches. They are throwing out more runners than in recent years and have done a better job of managing the pitching staff.

After four straight losing seasons, Ursinus is 14-9. It’s the Bears’ best record in nearly a decade, but the players aren’t the only ones who are benefiting.

González is, too. He makes no money working for Ursinus. His salary comes from the occasional hit on MLB Network. It’s not his forever job, but despite that, he feels he has gained a lot.

“I can’t tell you how fulfilling this has been,” González said. “I still want to be in professional baseball, but I couldn’t imagine what I’d be like if I didn’t get this opportunity. Emotionally and mentally, it has been so rewarding. I’ve given back to these young men. It’s really been great.”

González signed with the Yankees out of Miami Southridge High School in 1982. He was a catcher in their minor league system through 1987 and began his coaching career at the University of Tennessee in 1988.

He returned to pro ball in 1990 and stayed there until 2024, working his way up from a minor league coach in the Marlins system to manager of the big-league team from 2007 to 2010.

The Braves hired him as manager ahead of the 2011 season. Over the next five-plus seasons, González led Atlanta to a 434-413 record before he was let go on May 17, 2016.

He returned to the Marlins as a third-base coach from 2017 to 2019 and worked as a major league coach with the Orioles from 2020 to 2024. When Baltimore chose not to renew his contract last fall, he called an old friend, Kevin Schneider, for guidance on what to do next.

He met Schneider in the winter of 2017. González had recently moved to Phoenixville, where his wife, Tricia, is from, and was looking for a local team that could use him to throw batting practice. Schneider was the head coach at Immaculata at the time and invited the former manager to come over.

Seven years later, González reached out again, with a different request.

“I was like, ‘Kevin, would a local college around here need some help?’ ” González said. “‘Because I know that I can’t play golf every single day, and my wife’s going to kill me once I’m around the house. And I want to stay in the game. I want to stay involved. This is the first time in 42 years I haven’t gone to spring training.’

“I was thinking Villanova. I was thinking St. Joe’s. I was thinking Immaculata. And he goes, ‘Fredi, I got a better program that can really use you.’ ”

» READ MORE: Dick Allen was one of baseball’s most misunderstood players. But in his hometown of Wampum, Pa., everyone ‘knows the truth’

Ursinus, a tiny liberal arts school in Collegeville, is not exactly a baseball powerhouse. But it did need his help. The ratio of coaches to players was overwhelming. Head coach Kyle Lindsay inherited 47 players he didn’t recruit in his first season last year. He had only one part-time assistant.

That group grew to 52 in 2025 (with six coaches). González joked that Lindsay would have taken “the devil” in as a coach because he was so shorthanded. But Lindsay saw it differently.

“I thought it was a joke,” he said. “I really thought Kevin [Schneider] was playing a joke on us at the time. You look at all the schools … there’s Division I programs in the area; there are minor league teams that would love to have Fredi. But for him, it was about being around the game and giving back.”

Lindsay and González met at Ursinus in December, just before the holidays. As they walked along the baseball field, which was brown and muddy with “6,000 ducks on it,” they talked about expectations.

“What do you think you’re going to see here?” Lindsay asked.

“I’m going to see baseball,” González responded. “I know that there’s no Bryce Harper or Gunnar Henderson or Bobby Witt Jr. But baseball is still baseball.”

It was an abrupt transition. González admittedly was spoiled. He never had to think about gloves, bats, or any other type of gear in the big leagues. There always was an endless supply.

This was not the case at Ursinus. The team used baseballs that were so scuffed up, they’d turned black, with their laces coming off.

He decided to call Orioles equipment manager Fred Tyler. Tyler sent over some balls that were lightly used, which González brought to Lindsay.

“I go, ‘I’m sorry. This is what he sent me. This is what we have,’ ” González said. “He opened it up. He goes, ‘Hell, we could play a game with these balls.’ ”

Added catcher Nick Mirarchi: “Those baseballs are like pearls. They’re great.”

» READ MORE: Jerome Brown has been gone for 32 years. The Eagles still make his family and hometown feel close to him.

The team started indoor practice in early February, with Lindsay hitting baseballs off a rubber floor. A few weeks later, when the weather heated up to 30 or so degrees, the Bears moved outside — another adjustment for González, who grew up in Miami.

González, who caught 302 games in the minor leagues, was assigned to work with Ursinus’ six catchers. It was immediately clear to him what their first lesson would be. All six caught on one knee. This was not the setup González grew up with.

Ursinus had 13 passed balls and 55 wild pitches in 2024 and 20 passed balls and 58 wild pitches the year before that. Lindsay and González urged the catchers to get back on their feet, in a more traditional stance, so they could better block the plate.

“It was definitely an adjustment to make,” said catcher George Nestor. “Sometimes, I still drop down, but every day he’s reminding me. It’s just a good base for us.”

González also tried to simplify their approach. For Nestor, the starting catcher, it has made a big difference. He has allowed fewer passed balls this season (three compared to seven in 2024) and has thrown more accurately to second base on stolen base attempts.

“He kind of brought our catching back to the basics,” Nestor said. “We would try to do too much last year, but now he’s simplified everything and has just made us so much better from catching to blocking to throwing.

“[I was] thinking more analytically: winning pitches, receiving, helping out our pitchers, framing, all of that. Now, it’s just more of, have our pitchers throw where they want it, catch it, throw runners out, block the ball. Just more simplified, but a lot better.”

Mirarchi, a freshman from Cherry Hill West, also has benefited from González’s teachings. A few weeks ago, when the team was in Myrtle Beach, S.C., for a tournament, the catcher slipped and fell on a throw to second base between innings.

He’d just entered the game and hadn’t properly warmed up. González was watching from home and texted the 19-year-old.

» READ MORE: For 42 years, Mark Quigley helped keep the lights on at the Palestra. The community he found there changed his life.

“He was like, ‘What was wrong with that throw? It looks atrocious,’ ” Mirarchi said.

The freshman explained that he hadn’t expected to get into the game and wasn’t ready. They had a productive talk about the importance of warming up — regardless of the situation — and spent the next week working on footwork and transfers.

About 10 days later, in a game against Widener, Mirarchi entered in the top of the eighth. In the top of the ninth, a player reached first on a throwing error by Ursinus’ shortstop and attempted to steal in the next at-bat.

This time, Mirarchi was ready. He fired to second base and caught the runner before he reached the bag.

“It was probably one of the best throws I’ve seen him make the whole time I’ve been here,” González said.

The former manager spends most of his time with the backstops but occasionally helps other players. Usually, it’s with their mental approach, like how to handle a tough slump. Cantor, a senior infielder from Philadelphia, said it has helped him navigate this season.

“Being able to hear how MLB guys deal with that stuff, offensively, struggling in the box … it’s like he’s got all the answers,” Cantor said. “He’s the baseball dictionary, pretty much. Encyclopedia.”

González has been thinking about what the lesson in all of this is. He hopes to return to professional baseball next year. If he does, what parts of Ursinus will he bring with him? How will he be changed?

There are the tangible things — he will never take equipment or state-of-the-art facilities for granted again — but there also is something deeper. The past few months have reaffirmed his love for the game. It’s a pure love, one that isn’t dependent on big names or pearly white baseballs with perfectly stitched seams.

The players have helped him realize this. After graduation, most of them will go on to become doctors, or lawyers, or whatever else they choose to pursue. But until that day, they will keep practicing in 30-degree weather, taking swings with ripped gloves and old bats.

“After 25 years, you get used to the travel, the food, the athletes, the stadiums,” González said. “And then you come back to the bare roots of it all. And it’s been great, it really has.

“If I get an opportunity to coach in the big leagues or manage in the big leagues, or help somebody out, I would be a different guy, you know? I would be a different guy.”