I know I don’t speak much about it on here, it was a relatively short period of time in my life, but I once was employed by Mr. George M. Steinbrenner and the New York Yankees. The call came in April of 2001 as I was teeing off on the 3rd hole at Remington Golf Club in Kissimmee, Florida. I remember it like it was yesterday.

I was your typical college student at the University of Florida, a junior who earned good grades, but made sure he had fun in the process. I mean to say I didn’t work hard wouldn’t be fair, but I made sure to put a lot of effort into my leisure time.

The voice came from a male, “Joseph, this is (I’ll leave the name out) with the New York Yankees, we wanted to let you know that you’ve been offered an internship with our Tampa office.” (Those were EXACTLY the words used). Two weeks later, I was an official employee of the greatest sports franchise on the planet.

The office was everything I dreamed it would be. Yankees photos and awards everywhere. Baseball was on everyone’s minds…16 hours a day, 7 days a week, there were very few holidays. You see, during baseball season things could change in a matter of minutes and to quote another high level employee, “We aren’t the f****** Pittsburgh Pirates.”

My first interaction with Mr. Steinbrenner, who was simply known around the office as “The Boss” (Eat your heart out Springstein) was a week in. Fairly new to the game and nervous, a warning came into our conference room turned office. “Mr. Steinbrenner is in the building, if you’re f****** off, stop now.” Truthfully, we weren’t screwing around. There wasn’t time to screw around, the draft was a few weeks away and the other intern and I were maybe third of our way through creating prospect folders.

Then he walked in. I panicked. What do I do? Do I acknowledge this guy’s presence? Do I just look busy? Do I introduce myself? No. Before I knew it I heard his voice creek out with, “Hello.”

Heart beating, pulse pounding, I spoke the ONLY words I possibly could think of. “Hey Dude.” DAMMIT. Did I just call probably the most powerful man in baseball “dude”? Oh my God, I’m going to be packing my bags any second now. Way to blow an opportunity.

He barely reacted. I don’t know if he even heard me. He just looked at what we were doing and said, “Well, who do we have here?”

“Uh…stats.” You’re really putting on a show now Trey, stats? That’s the best you can come up with? I mean the guy is looking at a paper with about 100 numbers on it. He has been looking at papers with numbers on them his whole life.  Of course he knows they’re stats. A senior employee then interrupted and saved me.  Whew.

As the summer drew on, I had several run ins. None would ever be more embarrassing than this next one. It takes the cake and runs it through a blender.

Our complex was a good size. Large workout facility. Training room. All that nice baseball stuff. It was about 6pm, and for the most part all the support staff had left for the evening. They usually let us know when the Boss had arrived or was arriving, to put us on guard. I was sent by someone to go find a pitching coach. I walked through the dark halls and into the training room and finally turned into a large whirlpool room.

I won’t go into detail, but lets just say, the Boss wasn’t happy with what I saw and interrupted. “Who the hell is this?”

A trainer quickly responded, “An intern. He’s a hard worker.”

Having seen the Boss buck naked, I knew for a fact my face was ghost white. I couldn’t feel it. Or my fingers. Or my toes. In fact, I was 99% sure I was stroking out right there. I responded, “Looking for Mr. (Insert Name), sorry.” I left in a hurry. By the time I got back to our section of the building the other guys were rolling. Apparently, my response sounded like I had marbles in my mouth. Probably because I was petrified. It was a regular Costanza.

Not every moment was as death defying. There were moments of humor. I was caught running in the halls during the Spring of 2003. He yelled at me, but after noticing that it was a 5’3″ midget, he chuckled and called me, “The Express.”

I remember shagging fly balls during BP, and to his amazement I was able to run quite a few down. I came back into the clubhouse and he joked, “You just cost me a steak dinner.”  

“Thanks for your confidence,” I responded with a quirky smile.

My last day of Spring Training 2003 he came in with a few envelopes and handed them out amongst the employees. In it, a check for $1000 bonus and a personallysigned thank you for the hours and days we had put in. I still have that letter.

I am not one to talk about these experiences. I don’t like to brag or make myself look like a better human being for it. However, many people only know the Boss as this gut wrenching, talon digging, ruthless win at no cost owner. However, America needs people like Steinbrenner to keep things afloat. I learned a very valuable work ethic from his organization, as I know many people who worked for him did.

To this day I still keep in touch with many of those guys. Each had different experiences. Many would be fired 2-3 times for things like eating the Boss’s burger, but they were usually rehired an hour or so later. It’s just who he was and how he operated. Which is why  to this day, the New York Yankees are the most valuable sports team in the world, despite being popular in only about a third of it.

Baseball lost its best asset today. Rest in peace Boss.

Trey

Gator fan. Magic fan. Attorney at large.

More Posts