RIP Nelson Doubleday, 81

[dgwphotography]

RIP

http://www.nytimes.com/2015/06/18/business/nelson-doubleday-publisher-and-mets-buyer-dies-at-81.html?_r=1

[Edgy MD]

Crap.

No great affection for the guy, but his legacy is undeniable, and it would have gone a long way had the Wilpon-Katz-Wilpon regime done the big thing and put him in the Mets Hall of Fame while he was living.

[Zvon]

RIP Nelson.

[Guest d'Kong76]

RIP

[G-Fafif]

Doubleday 6.0

[Edgy MD]

[Guest Mets Guy in Michigan]

He rescued the Mets from the M. Donald Grant/de Roulet disaster!

[Guest John Cougar Lunchbucket]

Edgy MD wrote: Crap. No great affection for the guy, but his legacy is undeniable, and it would have gone a long way had the Wilpon-Katz-Wilpon regime done the big thing and put him in the Mets Hall of Fame while he was living.

I think we can count on that not happening.

[G-Fafif]

Small thing, but changing Doubleday Awards to Sterling Awards (unless it was to honor Roger Sterling) was slightly nauseating.

[batmagadanleadoff]

"Run for the hills, boys"!

[Edgy MD]

That's how I remember him, as the loud, barrel-chested dude that projected a big appetite and and an intimidating directness. I moved to Washington in 1992, didn't get any yearbooks or anything that might show his picture changing from year to year. Then, in 2000, I absolutely did not recognize the creature accepting the NL Championship trophy. He was lost, dotty, broken, spotted, and seemingly 100 pounds lighter, saying little more than, "All credit goes to him!" seemingly about Steve Phillips but waving toward a gaggle of braintrust guys that suggested he could have meant Bobby Valentine or Fred Wilpon. But it was very affectionate, like Steve Phillips was his personal prot�g� and son-in-law-to-be or something.

I was shocked, I figured, "My God, he must be 90!" but I checked his birthdate, and he was only about 66. I looked at pictures of Fred Wilpon from the early years, and yup, he was still recognizable, but the two Doubledays I could not reconcile.

I figured then he couldn't have had more than two years left. I congratulate him on stealing 13 years from my prediction.

[MFS62]

He was a delegator? (as per the linked article)
I can't think of a better person for him to have delegated to than Frank Cashen.

RIP, Nelson.
Later

[Guest themetfairy]

RIP Nelson

[Lefty Specialist]

My wife worked for Doubleday Dell Publishing back before it was sold to Bertelsmann. Nelson was a man who, to put it politely, liked his drink. He wasn't exactly dedicated to the publishing business, and the Mets were like a toy to him. He got completely outmaneuvered by Wilpon for control of the team, and he resented it bitterly. He was a bit of a dilettante and wasn't accustomed to dealing with sharks.

He had a liver transplant in the 90's which may have explained his haggard appearance then. It's surprising he made it to 81.

[Guest John Cougar Lunchbucket]

Lefty Specialist wrote: My wife worked for Doubleday Dell Publishing back before it was sold to Bertelsmann. Nelson was a man who, to put it politely, liked his drink. He wasn't exactly dedicated to the publishing business, and the Mets were like a toy to him. He got completely outmaneuvered by Wilpon for control of the team, and he resented it bitterly. He was a bit of a dilettante and wasn't accustomed to dealing with sharks. He had a liver transplant in the 90's which may have explained his haggard appearance then. It's surprising he made it to 81.

Not that I know the guy but I think this is a pretty good read. He and Wilpon were both fools, really.

[Guest John Cougar Lunchbucket]

Leave it to Marty:

By Marty Noble / MLB.com | 2:19 AM ET The traffic on the Major Deegan was at a standstill in both directions; it had been for close to 30 minutes. It was about 8:30 p.m. The Yankees were playing at the Stadium, and they were playing the Mets. It was June 1997, the first year of Interleague Play in the big leagues. And for the first time since the Giants played the Dodgers in 1957, two New York teams were playing in a regular�season game. Those stuck outside on the paralyzed highway couldn't help but hear the raucous reactions of the 56,000 who had gathered to witness history. Hearing the crowd noise and the distinctive public�address introductions of Bob Sheppard wasn't enough for the robust and happy man who walked between the frozen lanes of traffic. He needed more, he needed to know what was happening. So, as he moved down the Deegan on foot, Nelson Doubleday Jr. stopped at cars with windows open and radios audible and asked for updates. "I stopped only at the cars that had our guys doing the game," the former Mets owner would say by telephone after he had found his seat inside the enemy's fort. "If they had [Mets radio announcer Bob Murphy] on the radio, I'd stop and ask, and maybe listen to an at�bat." That was Nelson Doubleday, a regular guy. Just your everyday, pedestrian multi�millionaire hoofin' it down a major thoroughfare on an early summer evening in the Bronx, giving up his ride about a mile from the Stadium and enjoying every step of the everyman experience. "We'd scored a couple when I got out of the car," Doubleday said, "and I didn't want to miss too much." Such was the telling snapshot of the man who financed the renaissance of the Mets in the 1980s. Doubleday was wealthy by any measure. And he was fun�loving by every measure. He was as generous with his money as he was with his smiles. It was his practice to buy more than one round. And now the smile, that hearty laugh and vigorous personality are gone. Nelson Doubleday Jr. died on Wednesday at his home in Locust Valley, N.Y. After 81 years of living good life, he succumbed to pneumonia, 13 years after he excused himself from the business of baseball. The Mets released this statement after receiving word of Doubleday's death: "We were saddened to hear the news of the passing of Nelson Doubleday, Jr. Nelson had a love of baseball and the Mets. On behalf of everyone at the organization, we send our condolences and sympathies to his family." "Where would we be without Mr. D?" Mets third baseman Hubie Brooks said late in the 1984 season when the guidance of general manager Frank Cashen, Doubleday's first hire with the Mets; the emergence of Dwight Gooden and Darryl Strawberry; and the Doubleday treasury turned the Mets from an annual 90�loss also�ran into a 90�victory team that, two years later, won the World Series and took over the New York baseball market. "I had nothing to do with it," Doubleday said three days after Jesse Orosco flung his glove skyward to initiate a wild celebration at Shea Stadium. And, aside from bankrolling the team, Doubleday's role was minor. He assigned the rebuilding project to Cashen, who had been working in the Commissioner's Office, and then stepped aside. He urged the acquisition of slugger George Foster after the 1981 season and pushed Cashen to bring Tom Seaver back to Shea. But mostly, he said yes to whatever Cashen proposed. Money was not an issue. Weeks after the World Series, Doubleday decided no Mets player would take a salary cut and suggested New York clubs should routinely pay their players 10 percent more because of the high cost of living in the New York area. That pronouncement made Cashen's signature bowtie a tad tighter. And, from overseas, Doubleday essentially ordered then�GM Steve Phillips to re�sign free agent Mike Piazza following the 1998 season. "Give him what he we wants, 'cause we want him," is how Doubleday later characterized his influence. Doubleday & Company, the book publishers, had purchased a controlling interest (87 1/2 percent) of the Mets early in 1980. City Investing (6 1/2 percent) and Fred Wilpon's group of investors (five percent) bought from the Payson�de Roulet family that had owned the club since its inception in 1962. The sale price was $21.1 million, the most ever for a sports franchise at the time, and about $7 million more than the next�highest offer. The publishing company eventually bought out City Investing, and in 1986, Doubleday himself and Wilpon became equal partners and then, over the ensuring years, adversaries �� in court and on those rare occasions when they shared airspace. Doubleday and Wilpon were at odds, particularly in 2002, when they couldn't agree on the value of the franchise that would come to belong to Wilpon. Doubleday eventually received $155 million for his share. He had put the franchise's value at $500 million. The first notion of the publisher firm purchasing the Mets occurred while the publishing executives were on retreat and on a yacht. One of them asked, "Hey, Nellie, why don't we look into buying the Mets?" Doubleday's response was to have one of his lieutenants contact John Pickett, the former owner of the Islanders of the National Hockey League. Pickett brought the eventual owners together. Within seven years, the Mets' one�year revenue more than quadrupled the sale price, and the team was in the midst of a seven�season sequence of great success that troubled the owner of the other baseball franchise in the city. "I'm sure George is thrilled for us," Doubleday said after the '86 World Series. Doubleday did refer to George Steinbrenner as "a pal," a term he saved for people he favored. He said he once invited the late Yankees owner on a trip to Europe to hunt quail. "George said he was too busy trying to win back the city from the Mets." Doubleday's involvement with the Mets' day�to�day operations was inconsistent. His interest faded at times when personal matters �� his daughter's wedding �� took precedence. Early in his ownership years, Doubleday was a central figure in the successful effort to oust then�Commissioner Bowie Kuhn. * * * * Doubleday was an intensely private man who, unlike Steinbrenner, was most comfortable when the spotlight shone on another. He gave orders to television cameramen that his family member were never to be shown. He had the common touch. He made a point of introducing himself to Sheppard in his 1997 visit to Yankee Stadium, because "I like the way he does things, so refined." Doubleday treated his players as he treated his children. Ron Darling noted Wednesday night that Doubleday was the same person when the Mets were the National League doormat and when they were World Series champions. "He's no stranger to success," Cashen once said. "He knows how to handle it." Cashen was always grateful for the chance to rebuild the Mets and for Doubleday's patience during the reconstruction. Doubleday had a special place in his heart for umpires and often visited them in their Shea Stadium dressing room. He was a bear hug master. He loved to throw parties and to make the arrangements himself. The night before the first game against the Yankees at Shea, Doubleday was checking a tent constructed beyond the left�field wall, where the party was to be staged. When someone suggested his guests would be uncomfortable in the forecasted heat and humidity, he pulled out his cellphone and ordered air�conditioning that he paid �� $75,000 �� for himself. The Mets' World Series party in 1986 was an absolute extravaganza, with Carly Simon, Glenn Close and Broadway performers entertaining. Doubleday had handled most of the arrangements, and the club added to the monies the Commissioner's Office had provided. Doubleday had numerous other investments, including a partnership with Jack Nicklaus in the golfer's equipment. He enjoyed golf and often was dressed for it �� in case an emergency match developed. He wore bright green slacks with whale figures on them. "Does that make me preppy?" he'd ask. Doubleday was a Republican who had a personal relationship with George H. W. Bush and who was quite comfortable among celebrities. Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis was a member of his staff at the publishing company. He was on a first�name basis with Sophia Loren. He once compared her to Mets manager Dallas Green. "When she looked at you, you knew you'd been looked at. The same with Mr. Green." Doubleday was the grandson of Frank Nelson Doubleday, founder of the publishing company in 1896. He was also a descendant of Abner Doubleday, the mythical inventor of baseball. "I had nothing to do with that either," he said once. Marty Noble is a columnist for MLB.com. This story was not subject to the approval of Major League Baseball or its clubs.

[Benjamin Grimm]

Wasn't there a (probably apocryphal) story that somehow linked Nelson Doubleday to Rudyard Kipling?

I remember when we were first introduced to Doubleday, in 1980, there was a quote of his that got a lot of play. When he was a kid, other kids teased him by saying something like, "You little stooge, your great uncle invented baseball." I mainly remember reading that "little stooge" quote multiple times.

[Frayed Knot]

Good piece (as usual) by Marty.

Lefty Specialist wrote: My wife worked for Doubleday Dell Publishing back before it was sold to Bertelsmann. Nelson was a man who, to put it politely, liked his drink. He wasn't exactly dedicated to the publishing business, and the Mets were like a toy to him. He got completely outmaneuvered by Wilpon for control of the team, and he resented it bitterly. He was a bit of a dilettante and wasn't accustomed to dealing with sharks.

That's the impression I always got too, including from someone I knew who worked for the team during the later years of NDD's ownership; that he was only a casual baseball fan and owning a team to him was akin to a rich man's toy that he'd eventually tire of and sell. None of which made him a bad person, just that I always pushed back against some of what I considered to be revisionist history, which somewhat understandably popped up as the Wilpon brand wore down, that had him him as the driving force behind the NYM good years and if only he'd never left those times would have never ended.

Noble mentions the Piazza FA resigning but it was the trade that brought Mike to NYC which is often cited by the Doubleday-ians as proof of his hands-on, midas touch management style even though, by Nelson's own admission if IIRC, his role in the deal was nothing more than a suggestion to Phillips that he look into it following Phillips' initial statement that the Mets weren't going to pursue Piazza on account of already having Hundley under contract and rehabbing an injury and so the resources it would take to land someone like Piazza would best be spent elsewhere.

[Edgy MD]

Marty Noble wrote: He was on a first�name basis with Sophia Loren. He once compared her to Mets manager Dallas Green. "When she looked at you, you knew you'd been looked at. The same with Mr. Green."

Which one was it in Houseboat? Sophia Loren or Dallas Green? I always confuse the two.

[Centerfield]

I was too young to pay much attention to ownership during his heyday, but you have to give credit to a man that hires good staff and lets them do their job.

I don't know much about Nelson, but I do know two things:

1. Was instrumental in the re-signing of Piazza, and possibly the trade to get him in the first place.
2. Hated the Wilpons

And that pretty much makes him ok in my book.

[Guest sharpie]

Have worked with many people who knew him.

A woman I know worked for him directly at Doubleday. He would always throw a big party in a tent in the parking lot for some of the publishing people he used to work with on Opening Day.

[Lefty Specialist]

They used to have a section at Shea for the Doubleday employees, where there'd be a lottery for free tickets. I saw a lot of the Mets for free in 1986 thanks to Nelson. My wife would hound people to put their names in even if they didn't know what a baseball was. Then if they won, they'd give her the seats. Decent seats, too, like section 17 of the loge, if I recall.

She saw game 2 and 6 of the World Series that way. (Yes, THAT game 6.) I saw game 2 with her, but she promised her dad tickets to game 6. He had the ticket framed afterwards.

[Guest sharpie]

I started working there in '89 so the section was no longer available but many people I worked with had been to the '86 series in that section.

[Lefty Specialist]

As soon as he sold the company, that was the end of the free seats.

[stevejrogers]

Frayed Knot wrote: Noble mentions the Piazza FA resigning but it was the trade that brought Mike to NYC which is often cited by the Doubleday-ians as proof of his hands-on, midas touch management style even though, by Nelson's own admission if IIRC, his role in the deal was nothing more than a suggestion to Phillips that he look into it following Phillips' initial statement that the Mets weren't going to pursue Piazza on account of already having Hundley under contract and rehabbing an injury and so the resources it would take to land someone like Piazza would best be spent elsewhere.

Don't forget, not that they'll let you, that legend has it that Doubleday got the idea after listening to Mike & The Mad Dog "suggest" that the Mets go after Piazza.

[Edgy MD]

The idea to get Mike Piazza occurred to anybody remotely aware of baseball simultaneously the moment he was dumped to the Marlins. As ideas go, it was hardly Newton's Three Laws of Motion.

[Frayed Knot]

Except that Phillips initially rejected it based on the idea that Hundley was due back at some point and therefore the price it would take to get Piazza would be better off spent in some other way. Now maybe that was just public posturing in SP's part but at some point Doubleday suggested/demanded to Phillips that he was worth pursuing and which point Russo & Francesa went on a days-long campaign to get momentum behind the idea. Or it was M&MD who started the whole thing which in turn prompted Nelson to go to Phillips.
Since no one version is the known truth, fans were free to choose their own genesis of the idea and to what degree -- a suggestion or an order -- Doubleday was involved.

[Guest John Cougar Lunchbucket]

Black armbands tonight?

[Guest sharpie]

As soon as he sold the company, that was the end of the free seats.

As soon as he sold his piece of the Mets, that was the end of the Opening Day tent party

[Edgy MD]

I'm certainly familiar with the story.