You Know Feeney, He’s the Guy Who Likes to Play Jeopardy

“Jeopardy,” as I understand it, is the evening television game show without Vanna White. That, I suppose, is evidence that it might actually involve intellectual exercise.

Further evidence is found in the fact that contestants must respond in complete sentences rather than guessing mere letters. That those responses come in the form of questions rather than answers suggests that it, too, is an offspring of television gimmickry.

One of my colleagues brought this game show to my attention one morning this week.

“You’ll never guess who I saw on ‘Jeopardy,’ ” he said.

“Hmmm,” I said. “Vanna White?”

“Nope,” he said.

“Gary Hart,” I said, “ . . . or Donna Rice?”

“Nope,” he said.

“OK,” I said. “Who?”

“Chub Feeney,” he said.

“Chub Feeney!” I said. “What was he doing on ‘Jeopardy’?”

“Answering answers,” my colleague smirked.

This conversation followed the less-than-astonishing revelation that Charles S. Feeney, more informally known as Chub, had been named president of the Padres.

“Well,” I said in conclusion, “I suppose it might be said Chub has gone from on ‘Jeopardy’ to in jeopardy.”

Feeney does not assume command of a club in the throes of even moderate success. He takes over a team in the midst of a reckless romp toward the worst record since the New York Mets were 40-120 in 1962. Within the last week alone, this team has lost one game by 13-12 and two others by 1-0. It has been a thoroughly dismal season.

That Feeney should want to be a part of this is remarkable, and undoubtedly a tribute to the persuasive powers (and perhaps pocketbook) of owner Joan Kroc.

You see, Feeney, 65, retired at the end of 1986 after 17 years as president of the National League. He served his apprenticeship for that position by spending 24 years as vice president of the New York and then San Francisco Giants. Everyone figured he would take his lifetime gold pass and sit up behind third base and just watch this game which has been his life.

Chub Feeney? A club president?

Sure, and Ronald Reagan will come home to run once again for governor of California.

Sure enough.

“This is an attractive kind of situation,” Feeney said Friday, “and I enjoy the baseball business. I retired from being league president, not from baseball.”

He laughed.

“Besides,” he said, “my legs are still good.”

Feeney was calling from the National League offices in New York. Apparently, you can get him out of office, but not out of the offices. He had a few things to do before he acquainted himself with his new office in Mission Valley.

And then he will have a lot to do.

“I will be a hands-on president,” he said, “just like I was with the Giants.”

Obviously, it is premature to identify exactly what he will do with those hands. There likely will be areas that he’ll determine need pats and other areas he might feel like strangling.

“I’ll talk to people and I’ll use my eyes,” he said. “I’m a little surprised to see the Padres where they are. I saw them several times in spring training, and I didn’t think they would be this bad . . . and maybe they aren’t.”

Maybe not, but it cannot be proven by the baseball standings. They represent a daily reminder that this franchise is fielding the worst team in the game.

Chub Feeney’s legs may still be good, but Joan Kroc did not hire him for his legs. He brings credibility to an organization that for the last couple of years has taken an off-the-field battering every bit as severe as what has happened on the field this season.

Feeney’s hiring sends a message that the Padre organization cannot be as bad as it seems. Otherwise a man like this would not become a part of it.

About the only thing this hiring would not seem to provide, at least on the surface, is stability.

When that ill-conceived sale to George Argyros fell through, Kroc said she was taking the club off the market . . . at least until the end of the year.

Coincidentally, Feeney will be club president . . . at least until the end of the year.

What we’re talking about here is a period of 6 1/2 months, a span of time barely long enough to figure out which key unlocks which cabinet.

“I’m certainly not taking the job as a caretaker or a short-term president,” Feeney said. “The reason for the 6 1/2 months is that Joan has indicated the club is definitely off the market until the end of the year. We’ll do it this way so we’ll both be free to make our own judgments. If it works out, it will be permanent.”

This was a matter of keeping options open. If Kroc should decide to sell, Feeney would not want to be bound to work for the new ownership.

My suspicion is that Kroc will not put the Padres back onto the market, at least not in the foreseeable future, and that definitely means beyond the end of the year.

“The way she’s talking, I don’t think there’s much chance she’s going to sell at the end of the year,” Feeney said. “She hasn’t made a definite commitment, but she’s highly enthusiastic and extremely happy.”

She should be. She has gotten out of an ugly deal, and gone right out and hired a most respected individual as her chief operating officer. She is making good things happen for her organization.

Of course, Chub Feeney is recognizable beyond baseball.

You guessed it.

“At the ballparks,” he said, “people are always coming up to me and telling me they saw me on ‘Wheel of Fortune.’ ”

Wrong program, right guy . . . in more ways than one.