Consciousness-Raising with Ted Turner

Ted Turner believes that men should be barred from holding elected position for the next one hundred years.  I guess he now feels that women are suited to positions of true professional and public leadership.  Nice to see Ted's thinking on the matter has "evolved."

Sail On, Sailor

In February of 1985, I helped my boss, President of the Washington DC chapter of Women in Cable, organize a luncheon speech that Ted headlined, where he proceeded to lecture the assembled 95%+ female crowd:

"Can't believe these girls down at CNN who go out an' have a baby and then want to come back to work after two weeks, put that little baby with a nanny?!?  It's crazy!  Now it's a fact, a proven FACT, that a baby needs its mother's love - not its father's love, not "a Parent's" love - its Mother's love!  Mama's gotta stay home with that baby!"  One of the professional ladies present politely cleared her throat and said, "Excuse me, Mr. Turner, but I would hope that - at least after they have borne a child - you would refer to these female employees of yours as 'women,' not 'girls.' "

"Naaaah, now, listen, Honey...  lemme explain..."  (Collective gasp and disintegration of crowd).  I admired his confident, self-destructive impulse.

But we'd met before.  In 1982 I was writing business plans at CTM for pay-TV sports networks, and we were trying to package a roll-up of all the regionals into SSN, the Super Sports Network.  Ted was then at war with acting Commissioner of MLB Bud Selig because of the rogue move of pulling his games out of the MLB network TV deal to feed his own channel.  We thought, correctly, that he was likely to opt out of SSN (as would the Cubs and Mets, building similar superstation deals with WGN and WOR respectively); nevertheless, Turner and our CEO Bob Schmidt were old jock buddies and Ted came by our offices in McLean, VA to learn more about the SSN plans.

Ted strolled into Bob's corner office, and I wandered by.  "Porter, get in here!" yelled Bob.  "Got someone I want you to meet!"  He introduced me to Captain Outrageous, telling him I was an up and coming second baseman or some such nonsense.  We yukked it up a bit and then Bob said to Ted, "I had your friend Bud in here last week," and pointed at the desk, where a new Rawlings baseball sat on a display stand.  Ted stared at it, scowled, picked it up an tossed it a few times in the air.

Commish Strikethrough

"Gotta pen?"  Bob pulled the Mont Blanc from his shirt pocket.  Ted grabbed it, boldly slashed a line through Bud Selig's autograph, signed his own, and handed the ball back to Bob.

In a later life, Ted launched our National Geographic EXPLORER series on TBS where it anchored the Sunday evening prime-time block, and he supported it generously for many years, always taking a personal interest, joining (and commandeering) the quarterly planning meetings, and treating us to CNN studio tours he personally led, and to Braves and Hawks tickets whenever we came to town.  He loved National Geographic like a young Indiana Jones.

Only women in elected office?  Maybe ol' Jane Fonda got through to him.

Glamour and Boldness - A Pairing That No One Could Have Predicted

On Deck with Commissioner Bud Selig

Onward/Upward Bud

Warming Up for July 10 MLB All-Star Game in Kansas City!

In 1982, as a wandering neophyte lost in a fascinating and not-too-unfriendly world, I did research for consulting firm CTM to develop something wild called "SSN, the SuperSportsNetwork."

In those days of proliferating cable networks, SSN was to be a confederated joint venture of MLB team owners that would satellite-deliver a program of out-of-market baseball games to cable subscribers: you'd see your home team all season long except on nights when they played at home and had not sold out the park; on those nights you'd tap the exchange and receive the best game from around the league.

We got 23 of the 26 owner groups to convene at the O'Hare Hilton for a huge confab - two or three folks from each team.  The Cubs (WGN), Braves (WTBS) and Mets (WOR) had already cast their lot with new "cable superstations" and would not/could not participate.

Why HIM?  Why not ME ???

2008 MLB All-Star Game - Bud and SJP at Yankee Stadium (4-3 A.L.)

Well, I've worked in finance and television, and had unhealthy immersion in politics and academia - all rife with big, needy, overblown egos - but never have I been in a room with more blustering, braying, domineering jackasses at one time (well, I attended a U.N. General Assembly proceeding once, but that's another story).  Many of the club owners were also very charming in a back-slapping way, but every single one of these grand-standers was cruelly suspicious of his confreres.

The meeting was a riot.  My glamorous job?  Running laps of the giant horseshoe table where the 65 primo donno participants were seated, and handing out papers.

Beer Keg Swings Bat - COOL!

Oy!  One character who was well-behaved, and lingered late to chew the fat with my boss Bob Schmidt, was Milwaukee Brewers owner (later to become MLB Commissioner) Bud Selig. He was genuinely interested in the proposition, and would visit us in McLean VA later that year following the Brewers' heroic October appearance in the "Suds Series" (Brewers lost in seven).

As we swept up the room and prepared to vacate for a late plane back east, I spotted Bud pull a bright white baseball from the pocket of his brown corduroy suit jacket, take a Bic pen right out of Bob's shirt pocket, and scribble his autograph: "Good luck, Bob! Bud Selig"

The ball occupied a place of honor on Bob's desk and I admired it until something else happened to it...

to be continued.

A Mile High with Joe Theismann and Cathie Lee Crosby

(IAD, Sunday morning, December 23, 1984):  Vaulting from the tarmac onto a 7:30am flight from Washington to see the family for Christmas, I saw that row 1 was "reserved" (unusual for a PeopleExpress cattle-car), and grabbed the middle seat in row 2.  Eventually every seat on the plane was taken save that first row and the captain announced that we'd be waiting just a minute or two more and then we could 'secure the cabin doors' and be on our way to Boston.

Theismann: Confident in his Masculinity

Moments later, huffing and puffing, into the cabin charge Redskins ace QB Joe Theismann and "That's Incredible" hostess Cathie Lee Crosby.  Each in a floor-length fur coat!

The entire plane roars at the sight of their hometown quarterback and his gorgeous, glamorous girlfriend.  Down they plunk into the row ahead of me.

Cathy Lee: Catfight!

The two were obviously enchanted with each other - totally engrossed, beaming and smiling together the entire short flight.  I too was spellbound.  His stature, her hair, her perfume...  Her hair right there within reach... But I knew enough to not make an ass of myself, so I left them in peace.

CLC - The Poster

Not so restrained, the clown in row 3.  Over my shoulder came a gasping, panting Redskins fan, with pen and airline in-flight magazine in his hand.  Grunting and motioning 'forward', begging, pleading with me to tap Joe on the shoulder for an autograph.  I shook him off, but he kept flailing, so I reached between the seats and interrupted our QB.  "Excuse me," I said.  As he looked back at me, I made a very exaggerated gesture back over my own shoulder, shaking my head, raising my eyebrows and shrugging as if to say "Guys like you and I, Joe - we have to put up with these 'little people' interruptions. I know it's a pain but we understand it comes with the territory!"

I brokered the transaction, in each direction, and then the rest of the flight passed without incident.  When we landed, again there was pomp and circumstance as we were asked to 'remain seated' until our celebrities could de-plane.  That we did.

The two must have felt that they could slip away, for a  moment during this magical "bye-week" bubble of time between the Skins' December 16th 29-27 final game victory over the St. Louis Cardinals, and their coming December 30th 23-19 playoff loss to the Chicago Bears.

Before his next Christmas, Theismann would suffer [see 0:50 in this clip] his terrible, career-ending injury during a sack at the hands of Lawrence Taylor of the Giants.

But on this day - helming the great Washington Redskins, flying high in a fur coat, in love with his sweet All-American girl, and with visions of Christmas sugarplums surely dancing in his head, Joe Theismann was on top of the world.

And I was there with him!

Let's not forget: Cathy Lee played Wonder Woman before Lynda Carter did!

Patrick Ewing: Skyscraper

Hoya Saxa Hallelujah !!!!

Fall, 1984.  Georgetown Hoyas are defending NCAA champs after beating Houston 84-75 that spring.

It's a Big Man's Game ...

Mentor/Coach Thompson and disciple

Walking with kooky girlfriend downhill on the north side of Wisconsin Avenue, N.W., 1400 block, on a Georgetown Saturday night - shoulder to shoulder with the hipsters and wannabees, just about in front of Commander Salamander.  Jostling for position as the sidewalks groan.  Suddenly up ahead, looming like Ted Hughes' Iron Man or a gigantic tsunami, comes Patrick Ewing.

Looming...

He's in a pack or entourage and towers head, shoulders and torso above the fray.  The pack at ground level is moving herky-jerky and jostling as well - like Kurt Rambis in the paint.

...But, planing uphill, Patrick is like a giraffe - the long, graceful upper body rocking the same way that a giraffe moves, hinged at the low end of the neck when crossing the veldt at a lazy gallop.

Ewing hove into view, passed above us like the Empire State Building, and was gone!

Airborne with Magic Johnson

Magic in the Air: Head to head w/MJ

I Got the Magic Stick!
 May, 1996. Following a grueling E-3 show, my boss and I are waiting to board a commuter flight from LAX - SFO for meetings with software developers, when there in the conjoined boarding area is The Magic man, Earvin "Magic" Johnson, - in line to board at the very next gate.

Yes, he'd made the announcement of his HIV condition about 5 years earlier and was now retired, but even out of uniform to see that face, and that smile, was like a radiant blast of L.A. sunshine.

Magic Johnson: A Love Supreme

My boss had lamented in the cab that she didn't make time to get a picture taken with Sonic the Hedgehog at the SEGA booth, for her kids, so I urged her to hit up Magic for the goods. "Drive for the lane, shoot and score an autograph!" I pushed, so she'd have a trophy for her young son, a wild NBA fan. No NBA captain, she mustered a Hello, but didn't have the guts to request an autograph

Yours truly was less bold than that, just staring slack-jawed at the Magic Man.  He boarded his flight, and that was that....

I've always been a Celtics fan.

But I will not deny the incredible natural talent, the on-court leadership, and the warm personal appeal of this giant.

I'm Just Wild About Larry Lucchino

I will begin with a soda...  then move on - and if last season's $6.50/can Bud Light is now $7 or $7.50 at Fenway - we'll call it a sign of economic recovery.

Manna from heaven...

Great surprise birthday gift was pair of tickets to today's Boston Red Sox home ope-nah v NYY.  That's my invitation to tell you about meeting and working with club owner Larry Lucchino to set up a pay TV deal for his baseball team - only it was the Baltimore Orioles, and the time was 1982.

Larry was the up-and-comer in Williams & Connolly, Washington DC "power law firm" helmed by formidable litigator and then Orioles owner Edward Bennett Williams.  As Edward's young, can-do right hand guy, Larry oversaw all the business dealings - with the TV rights, the stadium, the licensing, the players' association, and the MLB.

I was the junior kid on a four person consulting project that helped structure the business partnership resulting in Home Team Sports - a collaborative venture among the Orioles, Bullets (now Wizards), Capitols, and Westinghouse's cable TV unit.

Pop-eyed! Good ol' Hazel Mae & Larry on NESN

We had Larry in our McLean, VA offices all the time, and as the short-straw newcomer I was often dispatched to tear downtown in my '74 Nova to deliver our work to the grand W&C offices astride Farragut Square on Connecticut Avenue.

The project was a fruitful one, and Larry's career even moreso, ultimately landing him in Boston with the greatest ball team of all.  When I learned my paesano Larry Lucchino had joined the Sox ownership team, I knew we were headed for good times - and the Series rings of 2004, 2007 and - shortly - 2011 all attest in part to Larry's sharp business instincts as well as to his love of the game.

According to Wikipedia, Larry has World Series rings (Orioles '83, Sox '04/'07), a Super Bowl ring ('83, as Williams owned the Redskins), and a Final Four watch ('65 - he was a teammate of Bill Bradley on the Princeton Tigers squad).  The only person in history to obtain all three.

The Boston Globe believes that the team and the ownership are all on the same page, at the moment. And as President, Larry is seeing to it that Boston does not get overbid by the Yankees:

Said Lucchino, “John, Tom, all of us. We emphasize the commitment to winning to our players. We understand that’s the central purpose of this game.’’ That commitment has come at a high price. The Sox, Lucchino revealed, paid approximately $85.5 million to Major League Baseball’s revenue-sharing fund last year and an additional $1.3 million in competitive balance tax.

Only the Yankees, Lucchino said, paid more.

“We do know that we have an intense rivalry with those guys,’’ Lucchino said. “We’ve got to be aggressive with our finances and we’re willing to do that.’’

If that's where my extra dollar for canned beer goes - to fend off the Yankees - then join me and we'll have another round!

Tony C. : paesano

Opening Day Reminiscence:
The '67 Impossible Dream season saw the Sox win the AL Championship and go to the 7-game limit with Bob Gibson and the Card's, but lose Tony Conigliaro to a terrible late season bean-ball injury.  In years following, MA public school teachers used to let us brats tune in the opening game on TV during grade school and junior high.

After missing the 1968 season, Tony C returned 42 years ago on this day, April 8, 1969 to pop a tenth inning 2-run HOMAH and beat the Baltimore Orioles 5-4.  I saw the Principal of my elementary school, Justin O'Connor, cry that day.

Home Opening Day:
I am as excited today as I was in 1969!


Post script:
Sox beat Yankees 9-6 for first win of the season - a glorious game.
YAZ threw out first pitch, PA system played Edwin Hawkins Singers' "Oh Happy Day" at flag drop, Air Force flyover before, and Navy soloist delivered BOLD 5th inning "God Bless America"

 Plastic cup: $8.50 Sam Adams Summer Ale, $8.00 Bud Light!

A Short Swim with Tark the Shark

From 1989 to 1995 I paddled in the sharkpool that is the annual VSDA convention, un-spooling every summer in stiflingly hot Las Vegas.  It's the trade show where all the big home video releases are promoted before the fall/pre-holiday buying cycle.

Tark SharkBite

Christopher Lloyd signs autographs

The LV Hilton exhibit hall would be packed:  Up front: Hollywood Studios with big booths and wild promotions (Warner Bros: "Get your picture taken in front of the car from Lethal Weapon and next to a cardboard standee of Mel Gibson!"; Paramount: "George 'Sulu' Takei signing autographs, 3-4pm today!").

Middle of the pack: independent video publishers, from desperate chop shops like United Video with Go-Go-Gophers, to one-hit golden geese (Lyons Group with the Barney franchise, Andrew Solt selling the Ed Sullivan archive), to high-end special interest catalogs (Kultur, Pacific Arts).

Walking the floor in Vegas...

In the back of the hall, behind a curtain: the motor that drove the video store business - porn.  But that's another story or two....

So it's 1994 and we're set up in our little Discovery Channel booth in the "Special Interest" section, showing off Nature, Science, History (a.k.a. Military), People & Places, and Human Adventure titles.  Coming up the aisle? A glowering, lumbering hulk with a low-brow look, surrounded by an entourage of husky peackeepers and a school of beanpole remoras (remorae?).  It's him!  The Towel Chewer - Jerry Tarkanian!

Tark coached the UNLV "Runnin' Rebels" hoop team, and had been notorious for over 20 years for his winning ways, NCAA-infuriating violations of recruiting and other policies, and "questionable associations" with Las Vegas sports, gambling and other nefarious denizens.  The hoop arena was close by, nearly around the corner on the short drive between the strip and McCarran airport.  He must have just popped over to review the fun at the rear of the hall.

I had all of three seconds in the paint, to think fast, pick, roll, and reach for the spinner rack.  With Discovery's annual "Shark Week" stunt coming shortly and already getting heavy on-air promotion, we'd featured a series of Shark titles in the booth.  "Hey Tark!  Sign my Shark box!" He ambled over, took the magic marker from me and scribbled "Tark the Shark" across its face, and kept moving.

I later gave the box to a wide eyed intern as a prize for some sort of sales support contest.

Don't Miss: "Jerry Tarkanian and other Runnin' Rebels" premiering tonight and playing all this month during March madness, on HBO!

Rangel Redux: A Jive Turkey Gets Trussed

I'm afraid that my friend Charley Rangel is again popping up in the news as a shameless opportunist and sanctimonious, scenery-chewing blowhard, one who should be censured in Congress, found in contempt in a court of law, disbarred in NY, and jailed.

The current contemptible behavior is described here, and my acquaintance with Charley here.

Sadder is the fact that the student mentioned in today's news - who departed boarding school last spring and clearly has been on a rapid, downward spiral - is someone I've met and for whose future I despair.  She and my daughter were classmates and teammates on a girls' basketball team, and it is always a tragedy when one so young has her life wrecked; in this case (it appears) by her own choices.

Afrika, Charley Rangel will NOT be your salvation but rather the vulture who picks at your flesh for his own sustenance.

Making the Connection with David Stern

"Traveling" called on NBA Commish:

Running for my gate in Chicago's O'Hare Airport - C Terminal - 23 years ago, I spotted NBA Commissioner David Stern approaching briskly, briefcase in hand and garment bag over his shoulder.

Like corpuscles coursing in opposite direction through the capillaries, we flashed past each other and it was over... No trash-talking, no obstructionist pick, no zone defense, no two-man weave.  Just pure airport artistry, (like O.J.!)

1984 NBA Finals - Ring Ceremony with Larry Bird of World Champion Boston Celtics

See Also: Nantucket Week - Danny Ainge

Chillin' wit NBA All-Star Chris Webber

A 43" vertical leap is one thing, but I still can't shoot a free throw...

MICHIGAN FAB FIVE: Juwan "Big Nook" Howard, Jimmy "Jim-Jam" King, Ray "Money" Jackson, Jalen "Jinx" Rose, and Chris "My Discovery" Webber

When former overall #1 NBA pick Chris Webber tired of the Golden State Warriors after one season, he packed his bags to head east and join college teammate Juwan Howard in DC on the Washington Bullets.

The Undisputed 'Truth': Polite tall guy.

Webber had been National HS Basketball Player of the Year at Detroit Country Day School in 1991, and our Discovery Channel communications topper Jim Boyle was an alumnus.

It must have been through Jim's industry that we snared Chris in 1995 to narrate an American history CD-ROM educational game: SkyTrip America.  Others contributing narration to the project were tennis champion Michael Chang, magic libertarian Penn Jillette, architect prodigy Maya Lin, and Irene Bedard (voice of Disney's Pocahontas).  We had them all in the studio at different times.  I managed to drop by Capitol Video the day Chris was in da house.

Chris came and did his job - very well, for a power forward not trained for voice-work.  I commended him for "Putting our Bullets on the map!" and asked about our chances in '96.  He declined to promise a championship* outright, but suggested season tickets would become an appreciating asset. Webber was easygoing and understated - dressed in chinos and a polo shirt.  No bling. No Michigan Wolverine "Fab Five" baggy shorts and black sneakers.

Much Drama
A flashy Bullet nonetheless, Chris had a few run-in's with the D.C. Police before winding up and parting ways with the team in 1998. A year later as "C. Webb" he released hip-hop CD "2 Much Drama" featuring the single Gangsta, Gangsta (How U Do It) and more recently dated Tyra Banks.  From strength to strength!  WebbaGotGame!

* Capitol Bullets 1995-1996: 39-43 (.476) 4th place, 21 GB

Bruce Jenner: The Last American Hero?

Fifteen years ago tonight, Bruce Jenner and I sipped beers and ate giant steaks as we watched Cal Ripkin, Jr. break "Iron Man" Lou Gehrig's record by playing in his 2,131st consecutive major league baseball game.

Then, I was running a software business for Discovery Channel, and had traveled to the Ritz-Carlton Laguna Niguel for the 1995 RetailVision sales conference to pre-sell new CD-ROMs and videogames to the trade.

Typically we would commission a developer to produce our titles, but in this instance we had out-bid the competition to pick up North American rights to the IOC's "official" history of the Summer Olympic Games - a multimedia encyclopedia of facts and highlights that would be introduced in March, ahead of the Atlanta Olympics.  This was our chance to demo the title for buyers and meet the press reviewers.  Through his wife Kris, my teammate Val had lined up Bruce to pitch the title and he was gung-ho to do it.

Our pitch spot was 7:30 - 7:55am, the morning of September 7 - so the night before, we'd agreed to meet at The Cliff restaurant, with a gorgeous lookout view over the Pacific.  It was a perfect SoCal night, and the indoor/outdoor restaurant was packed with people.  All heads turned as Bruce moved through the room, smiling and waving.  The guy was clearly in his element - the center of attention.  Still fit nearly 20 years after winning the '76 Olympic Decathlon in Montreal, full of charm and all smiles.  We settled in at a table with a view of the ocean as well as large screen coverage of the historic Orioles game getting underway, and we talked about Bruce's career from HS to Graceland College in Iowa, to the Olympics.

Jenner 2012 - Still Got It !

What a thrill to hear about the 1976 Olympics from the Wheaties Champion himself - and when he learned I had spent the summer of '76 wearing a paper hat at McDonald's and handing Olympic scratch-off cards to customers who hoped to win a Big Mac, he actually grabbed a handful of fries off my plate and shook them at me, hooting while he cited the promotion: "Gold medal: Big Mac - Silver medal: a MEASLY BAG OF FRIES!!!"

Well, Cal's feat became official the moment that the game passed 5 1/2 innings.  We all stood and cheered in  the deafening din - and Bruce led those around us in a clapping exercise, beaming and nodding approvingly.  Cal tipped his hat.  "Good job, Cal!" said Bruce.  The cheering continued a minute or two, Cal repeatedly tipping his hat and waving.  "Yeah, this is your moment, buddy" added Jenner, slowing his clap tempo noticeably.  Long, loving panning shots of the stadium. Still the clapping continued.

Cal broke into a loping lap around the perimeter of the park, and the fans went wild.

"Yeah, this is all great, but, you know, it's going on a little bit, don't you think?" said the smiling Jenner, his gleaming teeth now gritted.  "Little bit long??"

Cal finished his victory lap, and the place was still going up in flames.

By now Jenner's eyebrows had that distinctive "V" shape.  "Cal's not likin' this - Yeah, I know what its like.  He's gettin' a little TIRED of this!  'Cause I know I sure am!"

Eventually after the fervor subsided, and the game resumed, Bruce was able to resume a calm state too.

Reality Check (l to r): Decadent & Decathlete...

We made a number of appearances together over the next many months - Bruce still sporting the same blown-dry 70's bowl cut that had shamed Jimmy Conners and left Pistol Pete Maravich in the dust, back when.  Bruce did a great job, always stoked, and always a lot of fun.  He was a class act, and distinguished by his positive vibe, high energy, and focused professionalism. We had a lot of laughs... and coming out of our discussions I was able to piece together the amazing interlock of relationships connecting the Jenners, Michael Jackson, Elvis, OJ, and - a name no one yet knew - Bobby Kardashian.  When the darn thing turns up I will mind-map it and update this post.

Of course the Kardashian girls were just budding Marymount High Schoolers then...

September 6, 1995: I watched one great athletic hero have his "moment," in the company of another great whose moment lives on for me, ... and maybe for you too?

Nantucket Week: Danny Ainge

I love to visit the island in mid June, when it's warm and sunny enough for the beach, but just ahead of the end of school, and the madness (and Main Street congestion) that it brings.  In June of 1989 I made a token 8-day appearance in my new job at The Discovery Channel, then promptly headed with my wife to the island on a Saturday, for 2 weeks.

Four days earlier the Detroit Pistons "Bad Boys" had swept the L.A. Lakers in the NBA Finals (Series MVP: "Joe Duuuuuuuu-mars!"), gaining revenge on the Lakers in a rematch of the 1988 finals.  Although my own allegiance was, and is, to the Celtics, at the time my wife was a die-hard Lakers fan - her father had worked for Jack Kent Cooke at the L.A. Forum in a senior capacity - thus the 1985 and 1987 series had made for some "tense moments"... but I digress.

Joe's Barbershop - (508) 325-4091

On-island and needing a summer haircut, I found Joanna at Joe's Barber Shop outside town on Pleasant Street, near the windmill.  After hearing what I was looking for, Joanna turned around and slapped her hand on a picture taped to the mirror - "Sure you don't want something like this? He was just in here yesterday!"  Here was Danny Ainge, who apparently got his hair cut every summer in the same chair I was now sitting in.  Now, the week before Danny (traded by Boston late in the '89 season to Sacramento) had no doubt watched the same playoffs as I had, from a similar couch position, so I grabbed his chair and gave it a spin.

"Let's go for it - give me the Danny Ainge!"  Joanna did her magic, and my hair did achieve an ersatz spiky obnoxiousness that I liked for a few days (but couldn't maintain).

I thought fondly of my tufted haircut, and the combative, scrappy Ainge, the following season when, on the Celtics' first Ainge-less appearance at the Forum, CBS Sports and Brent Musburger pointed out a courtside hand-made sign: "We STILL Hate Ainge!!!"

George Steinbrenner, R.I.P.

In the winter of 1982 I was a wide-eyed young man working in Washington DC, and lucky enough to have my esteemed boss Bob Schmidt introduce me to the notorious owner of the New York Yankees club, George Steinbrenner.

Bob and I had attended a Paul Kagan Pay TV Sports conference that day. MLB teams were all joining with basketball and hockey franchises and local cable companies, forming regional TV networks (SportsVision, NESN, Box Seat, Prime Ticket & Home Team Sports all emerged at this time), and our little firm CTM represented the Yankees organization in its negotiations with Cablevision-owned SportsChannel. At 5:00pm we sat in the atrium bar of the Omni Shoreham hotel – the same Shoreham immortalized by Jim Bouton in Ball Four as a locus of Yankee debauchery in the Mickey Mantle 1960’s. Over an hour we three had a couple of drinks apiece and I sat rapt, listening as these two jocks shot the breeze about the Yankees’ prospects for 1983 (it would be third place, 7 games in back of the Orioles but still ahead of the Red Sox, 20 games out), how Washington had fared since the Senators departed for Arlington TX, and the competitive, brutal personal disdain in which the ballclub owners held one another. I admired the World Series ring on his notably delicate fingers.

Mr. Steinbrenner then shared a fresh anecdote: during the preceding weekend, he had been visiting his daughter Jessica, then a student at Sweetbriar College in Lynchburg VA, 3 ½ hours south of Washington. This interested me because at the time I was dating a lovely French girl who’d have been Sweetbriar class of 1983 but had been invited to leave the institution due to misbehavior early in her career. In any case George, while in a restaurant “trying to enjoy a soda with my daughter,” was approached by a woman patron who smiled and politely said “I’m so sorry to interrupt you - but I hope you won’t be too insulted by this: has anyone ever told you how much you look like that awful George Steinbrenner?” I hooted at his response – “In fact I have heard that a couple of times before, Ma’am, and I always try to take it as a compliment!”

Before settling down to business the next time I am at Fenway Park, I shall try to enjoy a soda, in his honor. This Red Sox fan found Mr. Steinbrenner to be a humble and charming man. I’m glad that I met him.