‘THE MOST GIVING GUY YOU CAN IMAGINE’ : Breitbard Just Can’t Take It : San Diego State: Aztec alumnus can dish out a lot of awards and help. He has had a hand in many things on the area sports scene.

Somebody finally turned the tables on Bob Breitbard.

He has been bestowing honors on San Diego athletes since 1946, first with the Breitbard Athletic Foundation, which soon became the Breitbard Hall of Champions. Ask him today how many awards his foundation has sponsored and he can only guess. And that guess is somewhere in the thousands.

He was on other side of the microphone Saturday. He stood in the spotlight rather than off in the shadows. He was honored as San Diego State’s alumnus of the year.

And how did he feel about it?

Jim Kuhn, president of SDSU’s alumni association, quickly learned when he made the telephone call a couple of months ago to give Breitbard the news.

Breitbard said no.

Kuhn held the telephone to his ear and paused.

This guy was was declining the SDSU alumnus of the year award?

“I’m not worthy of that,” Breitbard told him. “I’ve never done anything worthy of that kind of honor.”

Yes, Kuhn said, but that’s what we’ve decided. Think about it for a few days. Then Kuhn recruited a few people from the SDSU administration to call and help convince Breitbard.

“By then,” Kuhn said, “he decided it was inevitable.”

So the alumni association had a private, pre-announcement party attended by Breitbard and the eight people honored as distinguished alumni. Just before the party, Kuhn asked Breitbard if he would like to say something.

“No,” Breitbard replied, “I sure wouldn’t.”

So the eight distinguished alumni were introduced, and each said a few words. Then, Breitbard was introduced. Because everyone else had spoken, he felt obligated to say something.

“I don’t know why I’m here,” he said. “I’m not worthy.”

Bob Breitbard is one of few people who has Ted Williams’ home phone number. The two were graduated together from Hoover High School in February, 1937.

In a nice twist, Breitbard and Williams were honored this past weekend. Williams’ day was Sunday, when the Boston Red Sox honored the 50th anniversary of Williams’ .406 batting average. Boston Mayor Ray Flynn designated Sunday “Ted Williams Day” and announced that a street behind the left field wall in Fenway Park would be re-named “Ted Williams Way.”

“We’re both being honored at the same time,” Breitbard said late last week, “but he, of course, did something great that hasn’t been duplicated since.”

Among other things, Breitbard has a gift for deflecting the spotlight. Better to give than to receive? Breitbard has carved a life out of that philosophy.

He is the former owner and president of California Laundry/Linen and Industrial Supply. He went into business with his family in 1945 and ran it until 1985, but that was just the way he made his living. His way of life was sports.

He began the Breitbard Athletic Foundation awards in 1946, honoring county high school athletes. He spearheaded the building of the San Diego Sports Arena in 1965, stocked it with the original Western Hockey League Gulls in 1966 and added the NBA Rockets in 1967.

Not all worked out as planned. The Rockets moved to Houston after the 1970-71 season. The Gulls were disbanded in 1974 when the World Hockey Assn. Mariners came to town. For a variety of reasons, his dreams slowly evaporated.

But here he is today, working on moving his Hall of Champions into a new building in Balboa Park. The current location is getting cramped, and it’s business as usual for Breitbard. Full steam ahead.

Others watch and marvel. The man, 72, dresses in a dark suit with a crisp white shirt and a smile. His shoes, black, are immaculately shined, and his agenda, full, is tightly scheduled.

The reviews he receives for his work--and for his demeanor--are as impressive. The only thing that remains a mystery is exactly who Breitbard’s biggest fan is.

“I’m one of his biggest fans,” said Jim Brown, 51, president of Marvin K. Brown auto center and a member of the Greater San Diego Sports Assn.

“I’m one of his biggest fans,” said Vinnie Vinson, also of the GSDSA.

Steve Horrell, vice president of the Holiday Bowl, simply called Breitbard, “The most giving guy you can imagine.”

And then there’s Williams. Stacia Gerow, Williams’ secretary of 29 years, explained last week that her boss was too busy to be interviewed for this story. With the Boston trip over the weekend, she said, Williams really doesn’t have time to talk. Then she said how much Williams thought of Breitbard.

“Say something complimentary,” she said, “and I’m sure Ted would agree with it.”

Two days later, she called back with some words from Williams: “From my high school days until today, Bob Breitbard has been a standout in all departments. What he has done for San Diego is immeasurable.

“I value him as one of my very best friends.”

There was never really a long, complicated plan for either the Sports Arena or the original Gulls. Breitbard and a couple of others from San Diego were at a baseball meeting in Rochester, N.Y., in 1963 and they retired to their hotel lounge at the end of the day.

A couple of young men came in and sat down. The conversation moved along, and Breitbard and his group discovered the young men were hockey players. The conversation Breitbard remembers went like this:

“Gee, I like hockey,” Breitbard told them.

“Why don’t you get a team in San Diego? We’ll come and play for you.”

“That’s a great idea.”

Breitbard returned to San Diego and talked to people with the WHL. They asked him where his team was going to play. They talked in logistics. He talked in dreams.

They granted him a conditional franchise. The condition was that he had to find a place to play.

So he built the Sports Arena. He hustled together some private funds, leased land from the city, broke ground in 1965 and had it operable by 1966. No kidding.

And The Hockey News named him executive of the year in 1967 and 1974.

He turned his attention to basketball and got Walter Kennedy, former NBA commissioner, to award him an NBA franchise. The Rockets were in business. The NBA All-Star game came to San Diego in 1971.

Calvin Murphy, Elvin Hayes, Rudy Tomjanovich, John Block, Pat Riley, Rick Adelman . . . they all played in San Diego for Breitbard. The team made the playoffs in its fourth season.

In those days, the NBA wasn’t as corporate and slick as it is today. Talk to old-timers, and they will tell you about Rocket guard Calvin Murphy entertaining fans at halftime by putting on dribbling exhibitions and doing tricks. A few times, Murphy--a world class baton twirler--performed at halftime for the fans.

But the good times didn’t last. There was a dispute with the city tax assessor. Breitbard thought he was going to get a break on the possessory income tax. He built the Sports Arena without a dime of the tax money, didn’t he? He brought NBA basketball and minor-league hockey to town, didn’t he?

According to published reports, Breitbard had expected a possessory interest tax of $35,000 a year, but instead was hit with a bill of $123,000. He had expected a break either on possessory tax or on parking revenue, but he and several business leaders who supported him couldn’t reach an agreement with the city. The sea of red ink began to swell.

The hell with it, Breitbard said. He sold the Rockets.

A group from Houston purchased the franchise in June, 1971. A franchise that cost him $1.7 million netted $5.6 million. He was the 51% owner and the main beneficiary.

“He would much rather have the red phone to NBA headquarters on his desk than the money,” said Les Land, a minority owner of the Sports Arena and the Rockets who now works for the San Diego Convention Center.

The scars cut deep. Breitbard still refuses to talk about the disagreement with the city or the sale of the Rockets.

“It still hurts to talk about it today,” he said.

Despite his fiscal disagreements at the time, Breitbard made sure to take care of his employees.

“When the sale was consummated, we were all guaranteed jobs (in Houston) if we wanted to go,” said Bruce Binkowski, who was an assistant to the public relations director at the time and now serves as the director of marketing and public relations for the GSDSA and Holiday Bowl.

It was part of the deal. If Breitbard was going to agree to sell the team, the new owners were going to agree to save the jobs.

A few years later, Binkowski returned to San Diego and worked in public relations for the Gulls. When the Gulls disbanded in 1974, Binkowski said Breitbard kept the employees working a couple of extra months and then gave them all sizable severance paychecks.

“He called each and every one of his employees into his office (personally) and expressed sorrow,” Binkowski recalled.

Max McNab, now executive vice president of the New Jersey Devils, worked for Breitbard for eight years as the general manager/coach of the Gulls and tells a similar story. McNab had three sons in college when the Gulls were disbanded.

“I worked eight years for him and never had a contract,” McNab said. “When the team folded, he slipped me a check which, in effect, (paid the college tuitions and) bailed me out of my financial woes.

“Nobody can say anything bad about Bob without an argument from me.”

Is there anything this guy hasn’t done? Breitbard coached baseball and football at Hoover. He helped San Diego State bring football back after World War II. The Aztecs didn’t field a team in 1943 or 1944, and Breitbard was the volunteer--as in unpaid--head coach in 1945. They finished 2-5.

He is on the GSDSA, Holiday Bowl and Sharp Hospital boards. He has season tickets to the Sockers, Chargers, Padres, Gulls and SDSU basketball and football, as well as the symphony, Old Globe and Starlight Opera. He goes with his wife, Lil. Obviously, they don’t get to everything. But when you’re in your 46th year of marriage, you know how to compromise.

Lil Breitbard doesn’t like the spotlight, either. When her husband first declined the alumnus of the year award, she supported him.

So what else is new? Shift the attention to others . . .

“He has often written personal donations to various (Holiday Bowl) or GSDSA functions, but insisted they be anonymous,” said John Reid, executive director of the GSDSA.

He likes things to be done right. When Harry Cooper secured an International Hockey League franchise this year, he discovered that Breitbard still owned the name “Gulls.” He asked if the new organization could resurrect the old name. It didn’t take Breitbard long to respond.

“I told them that as long as they ran a first-class operation, I’d let them use the name,” Breitbard said. “They’ve been very good about the use of the name.”

There are those who think Breitbard sold the Rockets too quickly, that it was a knee-jerk reaction in a moment of anger. He won’t apologize, but neither will he make excuses. He simply doesn’t want to discuss it. That was another day, another time. Now, there is more to be accomplished, such as moving the Hall of Champions.

He has done things his way. Be it the Gulls, Rockets, the family laundry business . . . a first-class operation is all Breitbard ever really wanted. The man used to test the hot dogs and peanuts at the Sports Arena each night before games to make sure everything was fresh.

As general manager, McNab said, he had to keep an eye out for Breitbard.

“He was a spoiler,” McNab said. “I had to watch him. He loved athletes. If they ever got past me to him, he was not difficult. He was not a hard contract man.”

Land, though, recalls another kind of moment with the Rockets.

“A forward, Don Kojis, brought in a salary demand to Bob,” Land said, “and Bob gave him everything he wanted.”

Soon after, though, an NBA salary survey was published. Kojis was unhappy with his salary in comparison to other NBA players and returned to Breitbard to renegotiate. A deal is a deal, Breitbard said.

“Shortly thereafter,” Land said, “Kojis found himself playing for Kansas City.”

The Breitbard Athletic Foundation? It was modeled after the Helms Foundation in Los Angeles. Breitbard didn’t think they were honoring enough San Diego athletes--particularly high school athletes--so he started his own foundation.

“They told me when I started it, the secret is to have consistency and keep going,” Breitbard said. “That’s what we’ve done.”

The Hall of Champions?

Breitbard was a collector before memorabilia collecting was the thing to do. He had a few things sitting out in his garage. One of the bats Ted Williams used the season he hit .406, a tennis racket and a pair of shoes that had belonged to Maureen Connolly when she won at Wimbledon and Willie Steel’s Olympic broad-jump medal.

The theory behind the Hall was simple. Why should these things collect dust when others could enjoy them? Soon, there would be a sports museum.

The Hall of Champions opened in Balboa Park’s House of Charm in 1961. It was moved to the reconstructed Casa de Balboa in 1983.

Soon after the Hall moved, in January, 1983, Breitbard asked Williams to come out for a dinner.

“And Ted Williams doesn’t do that sort of thing,” said the GSDSA’s Vinson. “But a few days later, Bob pulled something out of his pocket and said, ‘Look at this.’ It was a check for $1,000. He said he was driving Williams to the airport when Williams reached into his pocket and pulled it out.

“ ‘I didn’t even get a chance to thank him,’ Bob said.”

Said Breitbard: “That’s the way (Williams) is. He’s nice. He’s a real man’s man.

“He’s done a lot for the Hall. He’s been here several times, and he’s said the Hall is one of the great museums in the country.”

Breitbard smiles. If someone--particularly a respected friend like Williams--compliments his museum, that’s about the highest honor Breitbard could receive.

About as nice, of course, as the highest award bestowed by the SDSU alumni association. For years, Breitbard has attempted to do things for his city, tried to do something nice for high school athletes . . . now, after all these years, people finally got to watch something nice happen to him.

The dinner Saturday turned out to be wonderful, Breitbard said. There were approximately 750 people there. Highest attendance yet.

But he tried so hard to get out of it.

“The thing is, there are so many fine people who graduated from San Diego State,” Breitbard said. “I’m getting older. Maybe that’s the reason. It’s quite an honor.”

“He kept saying no, no and no,” said Lil Breitbard, “but they kept calling.”