His Philanthropic Gifts Take ‘Em Out to the Game

Some kids may not know the Lone Ranger from Toronto, although most undoubtedly know that Boston won out as the city representing the American League East in the major league baseball playoffs this week.

Especially is that true of certain youngsters occupying choice box seats in Beantown and the three other playoff sites, including Anaheim Stadium. And it will continue in two of those cities that host the World Series.

It all came about because baseball nut Jay Goldinger of Brentwood, a self-made millionaire investment broker at the age of 32, got a bright idea during the winter: He would try to set aside enough money--more than $70,000--to buy four season tickets from each of the 26 big league teams.

“A few weeks before the season started, I got in touch both by phone and correspondence with all the teams and said I wanted to buy four season box seats, and the rights to any postseason play for them,” he said.

“I asked each team to select a charity to make use of the tickets,” Goldinger said. “There were orphanages, boys’ and girls’ clubs, drug rehab centers.”

All teams but Detroit agreed, and to this day the reasons for the one unhappy exception are unclear to Goldinger. “The Tigers said something about wanting a letter of indemnification in case the charity turned out to be bad,” he said. “It’s a shame. The losers were the children of Detroit.”

In the other 25 cities, however, more than 8,000 girls and boys, many of them underprivileged, have gotten to watch a ballgame from a vantage point very few of them ever expected.

Extra Efforts

Additionally, during the last few days he has been trying to acquire an additional 200 seats at Anaheim Stadium for occupancy by youngsters during the playoffs pitting the Angels against the Red Sox.

Don’t bet he can’t do it. Don’t bet against somebody who was so determined to be a financial success, that at age 9 he had the Wall Street Journal delivered to his cabin at summer camp.

At age 13, he had a bulletin board in the bedroom of his West Los Angeles home, which he revised daily to reflect his financial worth. One of his earliest stock purchases was in a funeral/cemetery company, whose price soon doubled.

So it probably figured that it wouldn’t be long after he was graduated from UCLA with a degree in economics that he and a friend were conducting investment seminars.

Goldinger joined a securities firm as a stockbroker for a couple of years, but was introduced to the world of fixed income securities by Bert Cohen, a partner in Cantor, Fitzgerald and Co. Inc., in Beverly Hills. For the last eight years, Goldinger and Cohen’s sister, Marilyn, have been partners in what amounts to a firm-within-a-firm.

From his days as a member of the Santa Monica Boys Club, he prospered to the point where he was able to buy season tickets to just about everything that sweats--the Dodgers, Angels, Lakers, Kings, Raiders, San Francisco Giants.

A Workaholic

Trouble is, he is an incurable workaholic, who shows up at the office at 5 a.m., doesn’t leave until 8 p.m., and seldom gets to use his choice tickets.

“I have my own separate tickets and I get to see maybe six to 10 baseball games a year, and maybe one game from the other sports. I give away most of my personal tickets.”

You want to be rich at 32, you pay the price. The workday is 15 hours, you scan the daily business sections of 241 newspapers, too often the dinner is yogurt and a turkey sandwich, and you come to the office on weekends because the markets are closed and you can catch up on your paper work.

In fact, for a while Goldinger kept his brokerage firm open 24 hours a day (he has a dozen employees) for the benefit of insomniacs and others who wanted to place buy or sell orders in faraway places.

But being a baseball nut, he did allow himself a week off last February, when he treated himself and his father, retired textile executive Sylvan Goldinger, to five days at the Dodger Ultimate Adult Baseball Camp in Vero Beach, Fla.

An Expensive Fantasy

At a cost of $3,995 each, they got to use uniforms and lockers at the team’s training facilities and act out every fan’s fantasy--batting against Sandy Koufax, Hoyt Wilhelm and Bob Feller, getting hitting pointers from the likes of Frank Robinson, Duke Snider and Harmon Killebrew, and learning how to steal a base from none other than Lou Brock.

To see him through the winter without discontent, such is his fanaticism that the younger Goldinger has been taping televised games, to tide him over the off season.

Nowadays, whenever time permits on a Saturday, the native of West Los Angeles may be found working out with the baseball team at Santa Monica City College--another recipient of his generosity, team equipment.

Mostly, though, it’s the kids who benefit, an investment whose return sometimes comes in the form of a letter:

“Thank you for the game,” said the printing from a child in Houston. “Even though the Astros lost, it was a good game.”

“I will be satisfied if I can make a contribution to society,” Goldinger said. “I can’t give away my time, but I can make it possible for kids to enjoy a ballgame.”

Will the investment broker do a philanthropic encore next year? “Possibly, but only if I can afford it,” he answered. “Four years ago, my net worth was negative. I work for a living.”

Goldinger, who is single, obviously should have kids of his own some day. Whoever his wife turns out to be, she will assuredly like animals, because his favorite destination on dates is the Los Angeles Zoo. “If she likes that sort of thing, I date her again,” he said.

Indeed, when not keeping track of the prices of bonds, he keeps an eye on the prices of hippos ($400), penguins ($1,000), and other creatures. Somewhere down the line he wants to build his own zoo in the Santa Barbara area.

Why not? As more than 8,000 kids can attest, Goldinger is someone who is used to getting things done. As a sign says on the wall of his office: “Blessed are those who expect nothing, for they shall not be disappointed.”