On a beautiful July morning in 1991, three men gathered in a hotel suite for an informal breakfast and conversation. The discussion ranged widely over events and characters of the past, famous names and fabled accomplishments flowing along with the coffee and juice. Two of them, Ted Williams and Joe DiMaggio, were the ultimate symbols of athletic glory for generations of American men. The third man, Fay Vincent, was living a dream, sitting with and asking questions of his boyhood heroes.
Fay Vincent never set out to be the commissioner of baseball. He got into the game alongside his good friend A. Bartlett Giamatti, as deputy commissioner, when Giamatti was named to the sport's highest office in 1989. They spent their first spring and summer dealing with Pete Rose's gambling, and Vincent's legal expertise complemented his friend's moral thunder. But that was to be their only season working side by side, as Bart Giamatti's heart gave out just days after the announcement of the Rose suspension. Vincent found himself the only logical candidate to fill a position as guardian of the best interests of the game he loves.
In The Last A Baseball Valentine , Vincent takes us along for the ultimate fan's fantasy camp. As commissioner, he got to talk baseball with the likes of Yogi Berra, Larry Doby, Warren Spahn, Ernie Banks, Eddie Lopat, Whitey Ford, and Henry Aaron. He brought his legal training to bear on the delicate issue of whether Roger Clemens uttered the magic word that would justify his being tossed out of a playoff game (and it's not the word you think). He was one of the few outsiders at the annual Hall of Fame banquet for the new inductees and their immortal peers, where he watched, amazed, as Johnny Mize demonstrated to Ralph Kiner his method of hitting an inside pitch -- a piece of advice from forty years past. And he brought equal respect and attention to the greats of the Negro Leagues, listening to the gracefully told stories of Joe Black and Buck O'Neil, slowly learning how Slick Surratt earned his nickname, hearing Jimmie Crutchfield give as good a definition of a well-lived life as we will ever know.
Vincent shares these stories and his high regard for umpires, instilled in his youth by his father, an NFL official and respected local ump; his close relations with the Bush family, forged in a summer spent working in the oil fields with his schoolmate Bucky Bush, the 41st president's brother (and 43rd president's uncle); his unusual experiences with the relentless George Steinbrenner, including the famous meeting where the Yankees owner was facing a two-year suspension and plea-bargained it down to a lifetime ban. Vincent also gives his candid views on the state of baseball today, firm in his belief that the game will survive its current leadership and even prosper.
Through it all, Vincent's deep love of baseball shines through. His most remarkable accomplishment as commissioner may have been to emerge from the office with his fandom intact. The Last Commissioner is truly a valentine to the game, written with the insight and vision that comes from the lofty perch of the ultimate front-row seat.
Francis Thomas "Fay" Vincent Jr. was an American entertainment lawyer, securities regulator, and sports executive who served as the eighth commissioner of baseball from September 13, 1989, to September 7, 1992.
Fay Vincent's, The Last Commisioner, is both an entertaining and informative read. Vincent recounts his life, with an emphasis on his time as commissioner, through a series of small anecdotes, some of which are funny, some of which are poignant. He tells the story of his life, of how he became commissioner and what he did while holding that title, through a series of interludes and conversations with famous men and women involved in the game in some respect. With chapters that cover such things as his formative years, the Pete Rose debacle, baseball greats from his beloved team and baseball greats from the negro leagues, Fay Vincent uses first hand accounts with players and baseball people to paint very real and intimate pictures of his heroes, his adversaries and those who shaped the game and shaped his own life. Vincent's love of the game is clear, as is the beauty and calmness he finds in it, but he doesn't shy away from the darker side of it, as he describes the pressures and disappointments of the Pete rose case, nor does he romanticize the game. Rather Vincent tries to keep the game in perspective and show that, though it is not life itself, he says, it is an important part of our lives.
Fay Vincent was not only commissioner of baseball from 1989 to 1992, he is also clearly a true fan of the game and shows it in his "baseball valentine". Vincent's book is jam-packed with fascinating anecdotes about players from DiMaggio and Williams to Vincent's close friends Ralph Branca (who famously gave up the "Shot Heard Round the World" to Bobby Thomson in 1951) and Slick Surratt of the Negro Leagues. Vincent makes no bones about his fannish joy in meeting baseball legends; he refers to a breakfast invitation from Ted Williams as "an invitation to the Church of Hitting...you can't -- or the twelve-year-old in you, anyhow, cannot -- pass it up", and it's endearing to see his enthusiasm.
I was less enthused about the whole half chapter on the Bush family, which seemed rather more about Vincent's political inclinations than about baseball, but the chapters on Vincent's predecessor, Bart Giamatti (subjective though it obviously is, the two having been the best of friends), and the Pete Rose betting scandal were as interesting as the player anecdotes. The Last Commissioner is a little self-indulgent at times, but Vincent's love for the game makes it a very appealing book.
Enjoyed this book. Given the times now when we’re stuck inside for hours due to the virus reading this brought back memories of baseball legends I knew and I learned about other older players I didn’t know that much about. Some interesting information on the Pete Rose scandal and the Dave Winfield scandal. As expected the owners don’t come off well
It was all right. Definitely not the greatest baseball book of all time. While there are some cool inside baseball stories, it comes across a bit as WASPy namedropping. And he REALLY did not like Selig (which may have proved a good observation). Interesting getting the background on the Pete Rose situation and how he handled the 89 World Series and the earthquake as a brand new commissioner.
Many years ago my grandmother gave me this book as a Christmas gift and I finally got around to reading it. Fay Vincent describes his time as a baseball commissioner from 1989 to 1992 here while also honoring the people who have inspired him across his lifelong fascination with the game. He grew up as a great athlete in Connecticut, and although his athletic career ended following an accident he suffered while in college in 1956, he went on to executive positions at Columbia Pictures, Coca Cola, and finally Major League Baseball. I have much respect for his stance on the issues that confronted the game during his time as commissioner. He took a strong stance against betting during the investigation of Pete Rose, for instance, and knew that more minorities and women needed to be hired in executive positions to make the game reflective of United States demographics. He also writes of his frustration that the players union and the owners have had such an adversarial relationship and offers his thoughts on what might be done to shore up that situation (he believes that the players union and owners would all benefit and develop a harmonious relationship if each of them owned a share of the profits in the game, like shareholders in a company). I am glad he included his thoughts on these issues, although I wish he had addressed the issue of performance enhancing drug use in baseball. I recommend the book for all who want to look behind the scenes at what a commissioner must confront during his time in office and reflect on the beauty of the game.
Fay Vincent's baseball memoir seemed to lose some steam about two thirds of the way through and suffered a bit from some material that felt like padding, along with some proselytizing and mildly excessive baseball hosannas. However there is enough great insight and inside baseball material here, delivered in a candid and brutally honest way that feels intuitively on target and trustworthy, for the book to merit 4 stars rather than 3. Especially incisive are the details shared of Fay Vincent Sr., Bart Giamatti, the Pete Rose scandal, Vincent's tumultuous times as Commissioner and Deputy Commissioner, and his struggles dealing with hard headed and wrong headed owners. Recommended for any baseball fan of that era.
Surprisingly good. Second-gen Yale man Fay Vincent was portrayed as a bumbling oaf during his MLB heyday, but he actually had a hell of a life, of which baseball constituted only a small part. This is a deeply fascinating book about his fall from power and what it portended about a big-bucks sport that may disintegrate once all the regional sports networks and those $$$ broadcast rights go away in the next 2-3 years.
The original Fay Vincent shows up in a variety of places, including a "Smoky" Joe Wood biography I read last year, because he played baseball (Wood managed the Yale team, well according to the bio and poorly according to Vincent Jr.) and football at Yale - to good effect in both cases. The son was on pace for a fine football career at Williams until he fell out a window and suffered debilitating, mobility-inhibiting injuries. In spite of that, he became a real big wheel, a "pro" lawyer and executive in every sense.