PITTSBURGH — The worst mistake anyone can make in the world of sports is to believe you have it figured out, for it is as constantly changing entity, no matter what the game, no matter if you are athlete or coach.

Whether it be rule changes or innovative offensive or defensive approaches in football, be it the introduction of steroids or equipment, the games people play are as fluid as the beer that is consumed during the playing of those games.

It changes not only on the field, but in the clubhouse, even in such a staid and stable sport as baseball, as Jim Leyland has learned as a man who has managed in the major leagues since 1986.

The conversation in his office on Friday evening before his Detroit Tigers opened a weekend series with the Pirates switched to just this subject, how managing has changed.

“It’s changed,” Leyland began, “yes it has.”

But if you thought he would be talking about strategy, about the way the bullpen is handled, about how often severe shifts have become commonplace, you were wrong.

“A lot of it has been the medical part of it. That has changed a lot,” he said, using humor to make his point. “A guy gets a bruise now and he gets an MRI.”

The point is that players are babied today. No longer do you see players being praised for “playing hurt.” Managers and management, to say nothing of players’ agents, have changed the game to err on the side of caution and this is especially true with pitchers.

“They are watching people’s pitches. They watch them in the minor leagues. A pitcher gets a twinge and gets an MRI,” Leyland said. “So it’s a little bit of a different game. The stakes are big.”

It’s not “a little bit of a different game.” It’s very different.

The other day James McDonald pitched a complete game for the Pirates. Gene Collier, the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette columnist who was in on this conversation in Leyland’s office, said the reaction to it among the players and media was “as if he swam the English Channel.”

No one pitches 300 innings any more; they barely pitch 200. Washington phenom Stephen Strasburg is being watched so closely that they say they will shut him down when he gets to 160 innings, even if the team is embroiled in a pennant race with six weeks to go in the season.

“I think it’s us in management that are cautious. We invest so much in a player they want to make sure they check out every little thing,” he said.

Money, just as it has changed college football and basketball so much that WVU resides in the Big 12, has changed the professional game.

Players are so valuable that instead of making them play more, they actually are performing less.

What hasn’t changed, however, is what a player really is.

“I thought it was the same since Day 1 in the minor leagues. I’ve always believed this and I always will. If you have a jerk, he’s a jerk whether he’s making $600 or $60 million. If he’s a good guy, he’s a good guy

whether he’s making $600 or $60 million,” Leyland said.

But what the money has changed is the dynamics of managing a team, of creating a bond in the clubhouse.

Once upon a time players would gather in the clubhouse early, play cards, listen to music, joke and take, building friendships and bonds in the pre-game hours and then going out in the post-game hours.

Today, though, with the money they have there is far less of that. They are talking with agents and sponsors and when on the road often bring along their families, which is good for the family, of course, but works against team building.

Leyland said he has to learn to deal with that.

“You really have to focus in here,” he said, referring to the clubhouse. “That’s what I talk to them about all the time. Now that families are on the road all the time, I try to get them to concentrate on this room. It’s us against the world ... and, no disrespect, but that includes the media.”

Players have sponsors, products they endorse, and the reason is so they can get that in the media. The more they build themselves up through the media, the more valuable they are, but Leyland understands that doesn’t necessarily help the goal of winning.

“I tell them, ‘The media doesn’t care. They got a story if you win or lose. It’s all on us. Don’t get caught up in all the hoopla. They’re going to wind up in the winner’s locker room at some point. They may give you a token interview, but they are going to say I get over here to the celebration,’” he said.

The families, as good as that can be in certain respects, are a distraction. Leyland admitted he didn’t like having his family with him on the road because he begins concentrating on the job at hand so early in the day.

The money has changed discipline, too. How do you discipline someone making $8 million a year, guaranteed?

“Back when I was with the Pirates general manager Larry Doughty came to me and said ‘Fine ’em.’ I said, ‘How much?’ He said $200. I said, ‘$200? They got that in their sock ... and they’re going to ask me if I want a tip,’” was Leyland’s reply. “They would look at me like I lost my mind.”

The truth is Leyland understands you have to find a way to win over the players and build discipline.

“It’s all the same. It will never change. In any sport, I don’t care what anyone says, if the players decide they don’t want a coach, he’s gone. So you figure out a way to get along with them, don’t take any crap. If they decide they don’t want me, in three days I’m gone.”

Email Bob Hertzel at bhertzel@hotmail.com. Follow on Twitter @bhertzel.