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The Giants’ brain trust gathered May 21 to watch a homestand finale against the Royals. Nine team officials joined Buster Posey inside a newly expanded booth along broadcast row in the Giants’ press box.

Assistant GM Jeremy Shelley closely monitored what transpired on the field. Special assistant Ron Wotus studied his laptop screen. GM Zack Minasian got up from his seat to engage with others. Senior director of player development Kyle Haines stood in the back taking it all in. Four other executives chatted together on one side of the room.

And Posey, the president of baseball operations and most decorated catcher in franchise history, was locked in conversation with VP of player development Randy Winn, discussing how elite pitchers such as Logan Webb expertly work their way out of jams and limit damage on days they don’t have their best stuff.

It was an exclusive peek into the Giants’ inner sanctum, where decision-makers gather during games and set a new course for the franchise.

The group has a different vantage point at Oracle Park this season, thanks to the decision to knock out a wall separating two tiny booths. It’s now a spacious room (roughly 20 by 30 feet) with eight seats in the front row, three tables with raised chairs in the second row, a corner couch in the back, and seven TV monitors, mostly showing the Giants’ game, but one airing the MLB Network and another the Triple-A Sacramento game from the previous night.

The enlarged booth has a perfect view of the field; it’s spacious enough for everyone to be comfortable but intimate enough for everyone to converse.

It’s symbolic of how Posey has been open to input while creating a welcoming environment in the front office. The booth is where ideas are shared, opinions heard, and decisions made.

When Dusty Baker attends games, he’ll drop by the booth. Same with Winn, when he’s not visiting minor-league sites or the Arizona training facility. Paul Bien, who oversees analytics, is a regular but was out of town for scouting meetings. Posey’s advisers, including Bobby Evans, who lives in the city, and Florida-based Jeff Berry, always have spots in the booth. Chairman Greg Johnson and CEO Larry Baer will pop in.

“Buster’s very inclusive,” said Minasian. “He wants to solicit opinions from different points of view, and he firmly believes that makes us stronger.”

Posey, who replaced analytics-heavy Farhan Zaidi in October, has instilled a different mindset to game preparation, roster continuity, clubhouse chemistry, and acknowledging franchise history. Even the simple act of watching a game has a Posey slant to it.

When The Standard visited the booth May 21, it was a day game, and the lights were dim. The mood was upbeat and professional. Webb was struggling on the mound, but Posey kept faith in his ace, having seen the likes of Madison Bumgarner, Tim Lincecum, and Matt Cain maneuver out of trouble. As he was as a player, Posey was even-keeled and ultra-focused but always up for a lighthearted moment to keep things loose and light — and always open for others to express their feelings.

“I’m picking his brain as much as watching the game,” Winn said. “It helps me understand the vision of what he wants. It goes back and forth. He’ll ask, ‘What do you think about this?’ ‘What would you do here?’ It doesn’t matter who’s in the room, he’ll ask you a question.”

There’s plenty of passion and a good share of cheering and clapping — “Attaway, Chappy!”, “Nice goin’, Webby!”, or simply “Yesss!” — and emotions can run deep at any time. Minasian remembers during the home opener, in a tight late-inning situation, he pounded his fist to the table so hard that he had to check if he broke his hand. Through it all, the booth remains a productive working environment with plenty of enthusiasm and camaraderie.

“We have 26 teammates down on the field every night, and it’s exhausting and stressful, and they have each other to lean on,” Minasian said. “In the front office, we’re also teammates.”

The GM said Posey signed off on creating this space: “He said, ‘Yeah, let’s watch these games together as a group.’ It’s a safe space for everybody, and sometimes the passion can come out in different ways. Frustration certainly can be one of them, and that’s OK.”

As a young Brewers executive, Minasian experienced the benefits and positive experiences of watching games with front office chiefs Doug Melvin and Gord Ash, who invited baseball ops folks to join them in a suite.

Once Posey agreed, the transition was completed in a hurry. Execs watched two exhibitions against the Tigers from the old booths, and by the time the April 4 home opener arrived, Posey’s posse all gathered in the new digs.

“That was a great adjustment. The other booths were very difficult to watch the game from,” said Wotus, who sat in the writers’ press box in previous years. “Now TVs are everywhere, and you can see the game much better.”

For the record, the old split-booth configuration didn’t start with Zaidi. It was the same during Brian Sabean’s reign and during Evans’ tenure. Sometimes execs would sit in one booth and families in the other. In fact, for the first few years of the park, one of the booths was reserved for the visiting GM; ultimately, that space was moved so Giants execs could have access to both.

Nowadays, the expanded booth is all-encompassing (family members tend to show on weekends). It goes hand in hand with Posey’s strategy to include as many voices as possible. His circle of trust is quite large, extending beyond the front office to the field and clubhouse.

Few understand this better than Wotus, who served as a coach throughout Posey’s entire career, from draft day to retirement day.

“Buster didn’t come in with an ego that he knows everything,” Wotus said. “He asks questions. He listens to people. Even as a player, he was very thoughtful in his relationships with others and wasn’t afraid to ask a question to see what you thought. He may have his own thoughts, but he wants to hear your perspective, maybe sometimes it’s to check to see if you know what you’re talking about.

“I think a lot of people in his position don’t seek out those conversations. I’ve worked for a lot of people who did it their way. They knew how they wanted to do everything. They’re going to follow their model. They’re not asking questions. They’re not engaged as much.”

To Wotus and others in the room, Posey is the team’s tone-setter.

“He’s no-nonsense, but he’s comfortable having a laugh. I’ve been in this game a long time, and you better be able to have some fun and laughs along the way. That’s part of his personality. He’s very sharp but sneaky funny.”

“I don’t see where it could’ve gone any smoother or better for this organization if we hired somebody else other than Buster Posey.”

One-third of the way into the season, the Giants are benefitting from the change of vibes that Posey has instilled, the last two losses in Detroit notwithstanding. They’re one of baseball’s biggest surprises at 31-24, thanks to an elite bullpen, an evolving rotation, and an offense that has done barely enough and desperately could use some help.

For analytics guru Bien, it borders on a surreal experience working under Posey. A Palo Alto native, Bien was always an avid Giants fan and joined the team in 2012, the year Posey won his MVP and helped the Giants to their second of three World Series championships.

“We’re all fans of baseball,” Bien said. “Just being professional and doing your job, that’s always the first focus, but it’s been really neat to get to know Buster a little bit and realize what he means to the entire organization and the larger Bay Area.”

Sabean’s circle wasn’t this big. Then again, the Giants had a smaller front office in those days, and his inner-circle guys often were on assignment. Those who have known Posey the longest have special bonds dating to the start of his playing career.

Trainer Dave Groeschner, who was there for Posey through every injury and rehab, as well as the extended preparation time required late in his career, doesn’t sit in the booth because he’s in the dugout or trainer’s room during games, but communicates via text any necessary health updates.

“One thing I love about Buster, as much respect as he commands, he gives you back the same respect,” Groeschner said. “This is a big operation, it’s huge, and he has good relationships with people and trusts them. Like as a player. He had great drive, which made him so good, and we’re seeing that drive all over again, just in a different career path.”