Remembering Larry Lucchino
Larry Lucchino didn’t merely expect excellence from those around him. He demanded it.
And he didn’t merely demand it.
He taught it.
He nurtured it.
He inspired it.
And he rewarded it.
The former CEO of the Baltimore Orioles, the San Diego Padres and the Boston Red Sox passed away at the age of 78 early this morning. His impact on Major League Baseball was profound. So was the impact he made on countless lives, including my own.
Lucchino transformed 3 major league organizations, ushering in golden eras of Baseball in Baltimore, San Diego and Boston. And none of the 3 franchises were the same, on or off the field, after he left.
The Padres and Red Sox have inducted him into their halls of fame, and the man’s legacy is such that a good argument can be made that a plaque in Cooperstown is overdue.
Lucchino revolutionized the Game, and several major American cities, when he conceived Oriole Park at Camden Yards. It was the first old-school ballpark with modern amenities, and it was the park that reversed the decades-long trend of teams abandoning city centers for the suburbs. It led to the explosive growth of Baltimore’s Inner Harbor, bringing a previously quiet downtown to life.
Coors Field in Denver, Progressive Field in Cleveland, Oracle Park in San Francisco and virtually every other ballpark that has been built across the major leagues and minor leagues since 1992 were based, at least in part, on Lucchino’s Oriole Park blueprint.
In San Diego, he orchestrated a stunning downtown revitalization with the construction of Petco Park after leading a political campaign that captured the support of a staggering 60 percent of San Diegans to authorize the public-private partnership that saved Major League Baseball for the city.
Imagine getting 60 percent of people to agree on anything these days.
And in Boston, not only was he the maestro who conducted the preservation of Fenway Park, but the front office team he built authored the most successful era in the history of one of the Game’s most iconic franchises while, off the field, taking the Red Sox brand to unprecedented heights while also putting together the longest consecutive-game sellout streak in the history of American sports.
It’s easy to forget this now, but there was a time major league teams didn’t televise all of their games. Most teams primarily televised road games, thinking people would have to buy tickets to watch them play at home. In some cases, home games were televised on a pay-per-view basis.
Lucchino smashed that model in Baltimore, when Home Team Sports (HTS) began televising all Orioles games under his leadership. Lucchino believed exposing fans to the product would make them more likely to want to buy tickets. He was right. In San Diego, he built his own television channel in conjunction with Cox Communications. All Padres, all the time on Cox Channel 4.
At each stop, he made sure the teams he led were active participants in their communities, connecting teams, players and fans in ways that were unprecedented at the time. His teams promised college scholarships to inspire middle school students who might not otherwise have the opportunity to pursue higher education, and they created and supported life-saving medical programs.
Lucchino’s teams made life better for children, for people fighting illness, for members of the Military and their families…for countless men, women and children.
Lucchino’s teams showed us the power professional sports organizations with the right leadership possess to uplift their communities in ways that transcend mere wins and losses.
In what may have been his greatest strength, Lucchino was a masterful front office builder. He identified and nurtured talent and gave people the opportunity to do great things.
On the baseball side, he appointed Kevin Towers as general manager in San Diego and brought Theo Epstein west, after the recent Yale graduate had interned with the Orioles. In 2002, having moved back east, Lucchino named the then 28-year-old Epstein general manager of the Red Sox. The rest is Baseball history.
Lucchino was president of the Padres when future Hall of Famer Bruce Bochy managed his first big league game, and he was at the helm of the Red Sox when they hired manager Terry Francona, who will also one day be immortalized in Cooperstown.
He launched the careers of countless business-side front office executives, some of whom have even gone on to run teams themselves.
I started my major league career under Lucchino, first as his public relations director and later as a broadcaster with the Padres. I followed him to the Red Sox, where I served as his Vice President of Communications and later as a broadcaster.
He was a tough boss, but the last thing he wanted was to be surrounded by a chorus of yes men. He wanted the men and women with whom he worked to challenge him and to question him. But you knew he was going to challenge and question you as well, so you had better be on your toes.
Some may remember Larry Lucchino as a bit of a lightning rod. The occasional barbs he’d fire off in the direction of the Bronx contributed to the Red Sox-Yankees rivalry soaring to new heights in the early 2000s. He often took flack for things he said or did when, as club president, he’d be called upon to play “bad cop” to the owner’s “good cop.” The owner gets to announce the good news. The president is often tasked with delivering the bad news. Lucchino understood the job, and he faithfully wore the black hat when it was required of him.
You may have heard he could be confrontational. He occasionally had conflicts with other owners and with the Players Association. It’s no secret that he and Epstein clashed at times.
That’s all true.
Lucchino could be short, and he could raise his voice in expressing an opinion or in making an important point. If you told him you were going to do something, he held you accountable. With Larry Lucchino, nothing ever slipped through the cracks.
He wasn’t one for small talk. You’d answer your phone, he’d tell you what he needed to tell you and…click.
He’d breeze into your office, say what needed to be said, and he’d often be gone in the blink of an eye.
He wasn’t one to begin emails with “Hope all is well…” He got down to business and moved on to whatever was next.
Truth be told, I know he wouldn’t have had the patience to read this far into this tribute.
I get it. I always understood it. He wasn’t for everyone.
But he was for me. And he was for countless others who wanted to be a part of something special and wanted to learn about the Game and about life from one of the wisest men around.
He pushed me harder than anyone I’ve ever been around. And he brought out the absolute best in me. I would have run through a brick wall for the man.
He was driven and laser-focused and demanding. I didn’t ever want to let him down. I didn’t ever want to fall short of the standard he set.
He engendered loyalty for many reasons, but one stands out to me. Unlike many in leadership positions, he took the time to make sure you knew he appreciated you, both in word and deed.
I could tell 100 stories that illustrate what kind of a leader Lucchino was, but I often think of this one.
During a particularly challenging Padres Spring Training that began with the death of young outfielder Mike Darr, Lucchino called me in Arizona on a Friday morning and told me he knew it had been a tough few weeks, and he wanted to fly me home for a few days because I “deserved” a weekend with my wife. I told him I appreciated the gesture, but there was no way I could break away with all that was going on.
This was one instance when Lucchino would not be challenged.
He told me what time the car would be picking me up to take me to the airport, and he told me about the reservation he’d made for my wife and me for later that night at a French restaurant in Rancho Santa Fe. As I recall, he may also have made a menu recommendation or 2.
And…click.
My wife and I had an unforgettable dinner, and I enjoyed a great weekend at home. But that kind of leadership was precisely why I also couldn’t wait to get back to work for the man the following Monday morning.
I was often struck by the number of former Lucchino employees who at times complained about working for him, but oh how they appreciated him—and even missed him—when he had moved on to his next challenge. With the benefit of hindsight, they realized that he had made them better.
Upon leaving the day-to-day operation of the Red Sox, Lucchino led a group that purchased the Triple-A Pawtucket Red Sox in 2015. When a deal to replace the quaint but outdated McCoy Stadium couldn’t be completed, he moved the team about 40 miles to Worcester, MA, where he built his next transformational baseball cathedral, Polar Park.
While he had been largely outside of the public eye nationally since leaving Fenway Park, and it’s been years since he and I were in regular contact, there weren’t many days that passed when Larry didn’t cross my mind. Lucchino-isms frequently roll off my tongue (“All’s well that ends” is one personal favorite). And memories of incredible personal and professional moments he made possible are plentiful.
While he’s faced many medical challenges over the years, waking up to the news of his passing this morning was a shock for which I was unprepared.
A Pittsburgh native, Larry was Steel City tough. He had a fortitude and a grit about him that made it hard to conceive of a day he wouldn’t be leading, challenging, pushing, motivating and making people’s lives better.
Today’s been a tough day for a lot of people who knew Larry Lucchino, but there’ll come a time when the sadness will give way to gratitude and probably even to a desire to push ourselves harder, just as Larry would have expected.
As he would have demanded.
We’ll never forget the bar he set and the heights to which he pushed us. And we’ll all take pride in the fact that his legacy will live forever in the ballparks he built, the cities he transformed and, especially, in the hearts of the people whose lives he touched.
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Quite a story. Quite a life. You were fortunate to work with such a person and have him as part of your life.
Excellent - one of your most flowing and engaging pieces since I have followed you. We are lucky to have one or two influences in each of our lives. I also heard David Samson's podcast tribute to Mr. Lucchino this morning before I read your work. Thanks.