Fay Vincent Was Baseball’s Best Friend

I never met former MLB Commissioner Fay Vincent, but I knew him.

When the news came out on February 1 that the eighth MLB commissioner had passed at his home in Vero Beach, Fla., I was sad. A punch to the gut kind of sadness. There are only positive memories I have as a fan of the work that Commissioner Vincent did for the game during his three years on the job.

As a writer, the man was always accessible. I do mean always. When I needed a quote or a story verified, Vincent was my go-to source. In contrast, there hasn’t been a time that I have made a call to former MLB Commissioner Peter Ueberroth that I could five minutes on the phone with him. Not once.

A call to Ueberroth’s home would go something like this – I was directed to call him at the office, where he is. When I called his office, a secretary would ask from what news service I was representing. No return calls. I assume if I was with a major daily newspaper, the results would be different. Or, I would be directed to call his home, again.

National Baseball Hall of Famer Bud Selig is just as hard to reach as Ueberroth. A call to his home, and a message is taken, but no response. Voicemail left at his office, ditto, no answer.

But Vincent nearly always answered his phone. If he didn’t pick up, a message was left stating where he was at – depending on what time of year you wanted to speak with the former commissioner, instructions and a phone number were left. Either at his home in New Canaan, Conn. or his winter residence on Florida’s Treasure Coast, but you always knew where Vincent was. He wanted you to know.

Whether asking for a few quotes or to verify an event during his time as MLB deputy commission when serving under MLB Commissioner Bart Giamatti, or as commissioner, I would call Vincent early in the morning. Depending on when he completed his morning swim, this is when we connected.

Every call with me, and I’m sure with all others, came with a megaphone-like greeting – “Fay Vincent here.”

He truly was an amazing man. His life story would make a captivating film. As a captain of industry, Vincent was at the top of the business mountain.

Long before becoming MLB commissioner, Vincent was a respected attorney. Holding a leadership position with the United States Securities and Exchange Commission, Vincent’s corporate career saw him then become the chairman of Columbia Pictures. While leading the studio, two of their biggest financial success films were Tootsie and Kramer vs. Kramer.

Vincent would next become the vice-chairman of Coca-Cola.

Perhaps what brought me in as a huge fan of Vincent’s came from reading his book. Released in 2002, The Last Commissioner: A Baseball Valentine, I learned much about how MLB operates as a business. In my opinion, I believe that Vincent was under the impression that the Office of the Commissioner operates independently of the game of baseball.

He didn’t follow in lockstep with the clubs’ owners wishes. This, I believe is what cut his reign as commissioner short. Just days shy of serving three full years (1989-1992), Vincent submitted his resignation.

When President George H.W. Bush passed on November 30, 2018, I immediately called Vincent. The former commissioner and former United States President were old friends. William “Bucky” Bush, the youngest brother of the former president, and Vincent were high school pals. Before his freshman year in college, Vincent drove with “Bucky from Connecticut to Midland, Texas for summer work.

Believe it or not, Vincent worked the oil fields with several members of the Bush family. George H.W. Bush has started his own oil company at the time of Vincent’s arrival. Vincent lived at the Bush household that summer and was drafted as an honorary family member.

I missed not seeing Vincent each July in Cooperstown, N.Y., when the National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum hold their induction ceremonies. When he did attend, I knew that Vincent enjoyed his time in the ‘Home of Baseball.’ He often told me so.

However, Vincent stopped making the trip for two reasons. Needing the assistance of a cane and wheelchair to move around, Vincent said traveling become difficult. When I asked him about missing the opportunity to see his baseball friends in Cooperstown, Vincent was blunt when saying - “All my friends are dead now.”

Vincent counted his friends as those halls of famers who starred in his youth. He shared one pleasure that for several years he thoroughly looked forward to when coming to Cooperstown. Going to Sunday morning mass, on induction day, making the trip from his room at the Hotel Otesaga to Saint Mary’s Catholic Church on Elm Street, was a treat.

Vincent shared that he would accompany baseball greats Bob Feller, Warren Spahn, and others who served in the armed forces. Listening to stories about their time serving their country was a privilege for Vincent to observe. Rarely was baseball brought into the conversations.

Vincent was a kid from a working-class family in Waterbury, Conn., who reached great heights in his professional life. He was just as comfortable speaking with fans and stadium workers as he was with club owners. Overseeing the Pete Rose gambling situation, the 1989 earthquake-ridden World Series, and labor negotiations, Vincent relished his tenure in baseball. Growing up a New York Yankees fan, Vincent always had the best interest of baseball in mind.

I know, because he told me so during many morning phone chats, either from Connecticut or Vero Beach, depending what time of year it was.