COMMENTARY : The Once-Mighty Steinbrenner Has Been Struck Out

Let it be known with all the clarity that comes with the ringing of a bell that the man who sentenced George Steinbrenner to a “life outside baseball without parole” showed more compassion than the banished owner of the New York Yankees ever displayed to any of his subordinates or adversaries.

Steinbrenner was a bore, a braggart, a bully.

Commissioner Fay Vincent, still in his rookie year, took on the loud and loquacious Steinbrenner, who usually has his own way, in a confrontation that led to him being told to divest himself of the authority he has exercised for almost 18 years in his operation of the Yankees.

What was once regarded as the quintessential organization in all of sports, the proud Yankees, were taken to rock bottom by Steinbrenner. The stern yet equitable decision by Vincent wasn’t influenced by the fact they had gone to the same college, Williams, and shared mutual friendships.

In the parlance of the police precinct, Vincent “got the goods” on Steinbrenner and told him to take an intentional walk away from the Yankees and baseball. He must resign as general partner by Aug. 20 and, reduce his ownership in the Yankees to less than 50 percent.

Steinbrenner, in stepping aside, is trying to turn over the direction of the team to his son, Hank, but that can be done only if the commissioner approves. Furthermore, Vincent said, “We haven’t ruled out his son as a general partner, but we have imposed very severe restrictions on any family member involved with the team. If a family member was found to deal with Mr. Steinbrenner, he could be expelled from baseball.”

So, if the son succeeds the father, he will not be able to listen to suggestions or solicit advice. And, starting next spring, the only time Steinbrenner the elder, age 60, will be able to enter a ballpark is with the permission of Vincent and then it will be for only a “limited number of games.” It’s a discipline that is far-reaching and devastating ... just short of being totally disbarred.

It was Steinbrenner’s actions in paying a known gambler, one Howard Spira, $40,000 to dig for information that could be used to discredit one of his players, Dave Winfield, who feuded with the owner and was subsequently traded to the California Angels. Steinbrenner had earlier agreed to help finance the Dave Winfield Foundation, which was headed by the outfielder, but then became unhappy with his financial arrangement and began trying to damage Winfield’s reputation.

In asking to explain his unusual dealings with Spira and why he made the financial payment, Steinbrenner gave rambling reasons in trying to describe his actions. Everything from attempting to shield his family from violence to protecting two members of the Yankees’ organization for what he said were petty thefts of souvenirs. At one point, the name and credibility of Lou Pinella, a manager Steinbrenner had once fired, was painted with the innuendo of being a gambler.

Vincent was upset and quickly cleared Pinella of any such wrongdoing. In an effort to collect support from the press and public, Steinbrenner talked openly of his problems in getting involved and cited some of the reasons, which sounded like fairy tales rather than fact, as to why he gave Spira the “hush money.”

The commissioner, to his credit, kept bringing the Yankees owner back to the essence of the inquisition. Vincent wouldn’t be conned or confused by the Steinbrenner orations. And he showed that the affluence and influence Steinbrenner had didn’t amount to a row of pins to him.

Vincent used the same powers that permitted the game’s first commissioner, Judge Kenesaw Mountain Landis, to bar nine players of the Chicago White Sox for throwing the 1919 World Series to the Cincinnati Reds. Vincent used the all-encompassing clause that provides the commissioner the right to exercise what he perceives to be “in the best interest of baseball.”

It’s an autonomous rule, listed as No. 21 in the book, that gives the baseball commissioner a knockout punch that his contemporaries in other sports have never had, simply because the Supreme Court ruled in 1924 that baseball is free of antitrust regulations. One owner, Charles Adams of the Boston Braves, in 1941, was given the ultimatum of either selling his racing stable or the ballclub. He sold the horses.

In 1943, Bill Cox, owner of the Philadelphia Phils (which for a time then were called the Blue Jays), was banished from baseball for betting on games. His demise made it possible for the family of Bob Carpenter to buy the club and do wonders in rebuilding a team that was far worse off than the present Yankees, even after Steinbrenner’s at-times bizarre decimation of a once-proud and powerful dynasty.

Deputy commissioner Steve Greenberg, son of the late Hall of Famer Hank Greenberg, put the disciplinary action in the harshest of terms when he said, “Anybody in baseball who deals with Mr. Steinbrenner now is in peril. Anybody in baseball who violates this decree jeopardizes his baseball life.”

Steinbrenner, who can be so obnoxious he is an embarrassment to himself, agreed to abide by the commissioner’s ruling and will not proceed to a court of law. He’s surrendering and is being moved aside for “the best interests of baseball.”

The once-mighty Steinbrenner has been struck out.