The $400-Million Fan : In Philanthropist / Techno-Nerd John Moores, the Padres Finally Have an Owner Who Really Cares About the Team

He is a self-described computer nerd who has turned software into an impressive collection of hardware.

John Moores, formerly of Houston and now of San Diego, is said to be worth more than $400 million, but he hasn’t forgotten humble roots.

His success in computers and real estate has been accompanied by wide-ranging philanthropy.

He even contributed an estimated $80 million to rescue a charity case known as the San Diego Padres from the fire sale regime of Tom Werner and partners.

Did it in December of 1994, amid what club officials have described as the triple whammy of baseball’s labor dispute, the Southern California recession and the community perception that Werner and associates had not been committed to a franchise that has had a history of erratic ownership.

“Everyone gets a historical footnote, and I suspect mine will be that I was the only person ever to buy a baseball team in the middle of a strike,” Moore said, relaxing in his office at Jack Murphy Stadium. “I did it to have fun and don’t regret it for a second.”

Considering there was--and maybe still is--some question whether the Padres can turn a profit or even survive in a market bordered by Mexico, the Pacific Ocean and two other major league franchises a couple of hours away, Moores’ dividend is likely to be more psychic than financial.

“I have a tough time now dragging him away from baseball to consider something that may produce a profit,” said Charlie Noell, the Baltimore-based president of John Moores Investments Inc.

“As much as he understands the software industry and has been successful at it, he loves sports.”

Said Moores: “My goal is to stabilize the club financially so that it can be competitive on the field and accepted in the community. We’re here for the long haul, and it helps that we’re using my money and not someone else’s.

“We can look at it from a longer viewpoint than someone who’s borrowed money from investors, expecting a quick and superior return.

“I’m no great fan of committee operation [such as the 15-partner Werner ownership] for a number of reasons, not the least of which is it doesn’t work. I mean, everyone has their own agenda. Some are in it for the fun, some for the investment. There’s a dumbing-down effect. All you have to look at is the U.S. Congress. It operates by committee and doesn’t work.”

What Moores and staff have done in San Diego does seem to work.

Only a week after Moores became owner, the Padres completed a 12-player trade with the Houston Astros that brought third baseman Ken Caminiti, center fielder Steve Finley, shortstop Andujar Cedeno and a payroll increase of about $5 million.

The Padres went on to become the most improved team in the National League last year and seem to have taken it another step in 1996. Although rebuffed by free agents Ron Gant and Craig Biggio, new General Manager Kevin Towers signed free agents Rickey Henderson and Bob Tewskbury and traded for Wally Joyner. A payroll that was about $15.4 million when Moores took over is now about $27.2 million, but the Padres lead the Western Division and are responsible for about 290,000 of the National League’s 490,000 attendance increase while averaging 23,959, including three sellouts in the first week.

“He’s breathed life into the franchise,” acting Commissioner Bud Selig said of Moores, adding that the economics are still a question mark “because there’s little margin for error in a small market, but the early dividends of an energetic and aggressive philosophy are paying off.”

Tony Gwynn, a right-field constant since 1983, ticked off the names of players who left during the Werner regime--Fred McGriff, Gary Sheffield, Roberto Alomar, Joe Carter, Darrin Jackson and Bruce Hurst among them--and said it was maddening.

“I tried to bury myself in my work, but I was as frustrated as the fans,” he said. “We were at rock bottom, but John Moores came in and helped us climb the mountain.

“He came in with a game plan and delivered on every level. I can’t say enough positive things.”

What Gwynn doesn’t say, fans do. Moores, 51, walks around Jack Murphy Stadium during batting practice almost every night.

He abhors ties, favoring khaki pants with golf-style shirts devoid of any logo except the Padres’. He is almost always in a team cap festooned with team pins. Larry Lucchino, the club’s CEO and former president of the Baltimore Orioles, laughs and says:

“I tell him he looks like a geek with those pins in his cap, but he says he likes it. I would say he has a natural self-acceptance of who he is, who he wants to be. I mean, having $400 million helps, but I think he had found the key to enjoying life before that. There’s no ego. It’s as if he walked in off the street. I would call him affirmatively average.”

Said Moores: “I believe there comes a time when we all have to look in the mirror and say, ‘Hey, I’m the most ordinary person in the world, and that’s OK.’ I’ve been described as a pudgy computer nerd. I think two of three are correct.” Moores obviously takes exception to the pudgy reference, but his everyman appearance seems to have contributed to his credibility. Fans extend hands on his stadium tours, thanking him for what he has done for the team and city.

“Ownership is too often underappreciated as a marketing aspect,” Lucchino said. “Fans do respond to stability, positive involvement by the owner.”

Moores and staff hold a monthly focus meeting with groups of fans. The club and players have initiated a program annually guaranteeing $5,000 college scholarships to 25 middle school children if their academics and citizenship remain positive. Moores has pledged $1.5 million to the construction fund for a San Diego sports hall of fame and contributed $3 million to renovate the San Diego State baseball stadium and have it named after Gwynn. He has contributed $50,000 to help San Diego conduct the Republican National Convention, although he generally supports Democratic candidates.

Philanthropy is a way of life.

He has contributed more than $72 million to his alma mater, Houston University, including a 1991 gift of $51.4 million for construction of a football practice facility and the Moores School of Music. He flew the Boston Pops Orchestra to Houston for a university fund-raiser in February.

In addition, Moores established a fund to eliminate river blindness in third-world countries and now channels $25 million through the Carter Center--he is a close friend of the former president--to fight that tropical disease.

Moores said his generosity stemmed from recollection of his mother reading compassionate Bible stories while a youngster, the simple pleasure that comes from paying back some of his good luck and the unfortunate fact that “if we didn’t do it, who would? Besides, you really can’t take it with you. We all die poor.”

Moores didn’t inherit his wealth. His father was a newspaper photographer and part-time musician in Corpus Christi who often worked two jobs to sustain his family. His “techno-nerd” son married Becky Baas, the first and only girl he ever really dated, at 19, soon welcomed a son and daughter and prayed that the car didn’t break down.

“I did everything backward,” he said. “Married young, had kids young. If the car broke down, I had to fix it because we couldn’t afford to have it done. Went to night school, took forever to get a degree. Went to law school when I was unequipped and had no real interest in becoming a lawyer.”

He and Becky both passed the bar, but Moores drifted, always hating to be called away from a computer screen.

While working as a programmer for Shell Oil in his early 30s Moores devised a method of accelerating information-processing on mainframe computers, ultimately left Shell to form his own company, BMC Software, on a shoestring and took off with the computer boom of the ‘80s.

The stock options he had given modestly paid employees when the company was formed were worth about $1.5 million when BMC went public in 1988.

Moores ultimately sold his own stock for about $400 million and formed a venture capital company that has widespread holdings in commercial real estate and owns 15 to 17 software companies, including Peregrine Systems Inc. in Del Mar, which he oversees himself.

He also has houses in Rancho Santa Fe, Carmel, Vail and Houston, a fleet of Ferraris, a collection of Corvettes, art by Peter Max and Georgia O’Keefe, among others, and a private jet. With the Oilers moving to Memphis, Moores said he would eventually like to own an NFL team in Houston and thought he had a fully negotiated deal to buy the NBA Rockets in 1993 before that deal broke down. Moores insisted, however, that he is not a carpetbagger, has not left his heart in Houston. He and his family fell in love with San Diego and the weather many years before buying the Padres, he said, and now the entire clan, including brothers, sisters and in-laws have moved or are moving to the area to root for the Padres.

He believes the Padres can draw between 2.5 million and 3 million (they have never drawn more than 2.2 million) and bought in at a dark time for the club and industry because, “I don’t think it will ever get darker. Baseball is fundamental in the national landscape. We were assured that revenue sharing would be approved to help the small markets, and I don’t think there is any better place than San Diego. This is where we wanted to live and play a role in the community.”

It is not clear what Moores’ decision would be if, by the time the Padres’ lease expires at Jack Murphy after the 1999 season, there is no agreement on a new, baseball-only stadium. Jack Murphy is being expanded to 72,000 seats for the Chargers, and Moores said only that a new, more intimate stadium is essential, and that the Padres will begin to concentrate on that later this year.

In the meantime, the new owner isn’t afraid to speak up.

According to sources, Moores and Lucchino didn’t hesitate to confront New York Yankee owner George Steinbrenner and Chicago White Sox owner Jerry Reinsdorf in a heated debate some feared would produce blows during a recent owners’ meeting dealing with revenue sharing.

Moores and Lucchino believed there was a need to simplify the proposed package; Reinsdorf and Steinbrenner suggested to Moores that he hadn’t been around long enough to know. The proposal was eventually simplified and awaits union approval.

“[Steinbrenner and Reinsdorf] were a lot more ring experienced, but we had plenty of heart,” a laughing Lucchino said of the incident. “The smart money was on the new guys.”

Smart money? Moores has plenty of that. How much he will have to go through to prove the Padres can survive in San Diego remains to be seen.

He claims to have lost $17 million last year but should reduce that if fans continue to respond to a competitive team. Nevertheless, Moores recalls an incident when he was first thinking about buying the team and how he went up to a ticket booth and asked the seller if she had any of the best seats still available for that game. Her response: “All you want.”

“That kind of scared me, but I hope we’re in the process of changing that,” Moores said.

After all, you can only be philanthropic for so long.