He was the last of a kind — a personable, hard-charging baseball executive who demanded results, never suffered fools, and most of the time made things better for fans. He should be in Cooperstown simply for Camden Yards (which changed everything about the fan experience in every ballpark built after 1993), and he could have been commissioner of baseball, but Boston was best served because Lucchino ran the Red Sox from 2002-15.
The Sox haven’t been the same since he “retired,” and you can be sure Lucchino wouldn’t have tolerated the “let the fans eat cake” message ownership delivered in
the recent non-full-throttle offseason.
Larry Lucchino. Think Harry Sinden with a law degree. Think Red Auerbach brawling with NBA owners at Board of Governors meetings. Think Tommy Lee Jones as Deputy Marshal Samuel Gerard in “The Fugitive.”
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He grew up in the shadows of Pittsburgh’s Forbes Field, an all-star baseball player at Allderdice High School (future home of Curtis Martin).
“Forbes Field was across the street from the library, which was across the street from the YMCA, which was across the street from a pizza place,” Lucchino once said. “So you had all your essential elements of life in one system. You had everything together.”
A member of Bill Bradley’s Final Four team at Princeton, Lucchino never lost his love of asymmetrical green ballparks, replete with nooks and crannies, tucked into city neighborhoods. This is why Camden Yards was built and became the most important MLB change since Jackie Robinson integrated the sport in 1947. This is why Fenway Park was preserved when new Sox ownership took over in 2002. This is why Lucchino fined employees a token amount if he heard them refer to Fenway or Camden as a “stadium.”
I met him in 1979 when attorney Edward Bennett Williams bought the Orioles. One of the great trial attorneys of the 20th century and a proud name on Nixon’s enemies list, Williams also owned part of the Washington Redskins and brought Lucchino into baseball as a club vice president and general counsel.
As a reporter covering those Orioles, I came to think of Lucchino as the power behind the throne. Young Larry was involved in all Oriole matters and never shied from a healthy disagreement. When he was particularly angry, he would poke you in the chest to make his point.
By the time he came to Boston as president/CEO with the new Red Sox ownership, Lucchino had already built Camden Yards, broken ground on Petco Park in San Diego, and made a raft of enemies.
In 2002, Red Sox principal owner John Henry (who also owns the Globe) told me, “Larry brought me in, actually. I was working on [buying] the Angels. He was working on this deal [buying the Red Sox with Tom Werner and Les Otten].
“At one point, it became apparent to me that we weren’t going to be able to make a deal for the Angels. And I remember I called Larry on my cellphone, and he was at the Yale Bowl. It was Nov. 3 [2001]. And I said, ‘How’s it going in Boston?’ And he said, ‘We’re dialing for dollars.’
“And so I asked him if there was a possibility for an investor to come in. I told him I was only interested if I could be the lead investor, and he said, ‘That would be great. Let me talk to Tom.’ That’s how it happened.”
A few months after the sale was approved, Lucchino summoned 28-year-old protégé Theo Epstein, who’d been learning the baseball craft under Lucchino in San Diego.
A Pittsburgh guy who’d made his baseball bones in Baltimore and San Diego, Lucchino immediately understood the Boston Baseball Experience.
The old Yawkey/Harrington Red Sox — like the Bob Kraft Patriots — had a frosty relationship with Boston City Hall, but Lucchino put a stop to that immediately, forging a strong relationship with Mayor Thomas Menino. Before you knew it, Menino had a nightly suite at Fenway (I think Lucchino let the mayor make out the Sox lineup a couple of times) and the Sox were getting everything they wanted from the city.
Lucchino embraced conflict. He once called Scott Boras “a liar” — to his face. He openly mocked George Steinbrenner. When he reluctantly agreed to be interviewed for a book I was writing with deposed Sox manager Terry Francona, Lucchino insisted on having a Sox employee record the session.
Dueling recording devices. It was like the Nixon White House.
On the other hand, Francona told me that Lucchino was the only member of the Sox ownership trio who called him after
Bob Hohler’s explosive story on the ex-manager in October of 2011.
Lucchino’s hate for the Yankees earned love from Sox fans.
“To be a true baseball fan, you’ve got to despise your nearest rival,” he once said. “That’s easy for the Red Sox. I was signing some autographs the other day, and I asked the guy, ‘Would it be OK if I write “Yankees suck” on there?’ ”
Lucchino was briefly considered for a spot on a special “contributors” Hall of Fame ballot last summer, but failed to get enough support.
“I’ve got some scar tissue from the battles in baseball,” he acknowledged. “I think you could round up some of the usual candidates. Judge me by my enemies as well as my friends.”
RIP Larry Lucchino. Boston is forever grateful for your time here.
