Larry Lucchino died on Monday at the age of 78, causing baseball to immediately lose some of its energy, zeal, and greatness.
Every obituary and tribute will inform you about a remarkable career, especially in baseball. His leadership of the Orioles and the Padres were influential, highlighted by the development of Baltimore’s Camden Yards and San Diego’s Petco Park.
With principal owner John Henry and chairman Tom Werner, Lucchino brought about a new successful era for Boston baseball: the Red Sox broke the ‘Curse of the Bambino’ in 2004, marking the first of three championships. He also led the purchase and relocation of their Triple-A club to Worcester.
Commissioner Rob Manfred summed it up by calling him “one of the most accomplished executives in our industry.”
Many will talk about this visionary individual, a champion of the game with a passion that may never be matched. Lucchino pushed for MLB to gain global recognition and helped organize regular-season games in Mexico, Hawaii, and Japan. He also had an eye for talent, bringing Theo Epstein to Boston as the youngest general manager in MLB history.
In an era when many teams were building modern stadiums, Lucchino, a history major at Princeton, was a strong advocate for retro designs. He made sure to include traditional elements in each new venue and led the preservation of Fenway Park.
From May 2003 to April 2013, Fenway Park set a Major League record with 820 consecutive home sellouts.
About a decade later, Lucchino showed his commitment to Fenway once again when the Red Sox moved into their new spring training complex in Fort Myers. He oversaw the design of JetBlue Park, which included near-exact replicas of the Green Monster and manual scoreboard.
He is the only person to have a Super Bowl ring, a World Series ring, and an NCAA Final Four watch, as well as being the first to refer to the Yankees as the “Evil Empire.”
He was a strong, influential, and determined figure, but also benevolent, a father figure to many, and extremely generous and charitable. He co-founded and served on the board of multiple charitable foundations and worked tirelessly to improve baseball for fans despite battling cancer multiple times.
This is an understatement for a man who should've been in the Baseball Hall of Fame a long time ago.
I want to tell you about the Larry Lucchino I had the honor of getting to know.
We first met almost ten years ago, before I started working in sports. My family was invited to a Fenway concert as guests of a friend. We were surprised to find out that we’d be sitting in one of the suites. As we walked, I remember telling my father that we were probably sitting there because no one important needed the space, since the team wasn’t playing.
It was Larry who opened the door, of course.
To someone who grew up nearby while he transformed the Red Sox, he was a rock star in his own right.
“It’s you,” I said. Then, realizing that I sounded very lame, I managed to add, “It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Lucchino. I’m such a big fan.”
“Call me Larry,” he said with a smile. “So, you like baseball?”
Just like that, I found myself chatting about baseball, music, and Mexican food with the great Larry Lucchino.
Two years later, we met again, in even more unexpected circumstances. A friend who worked for the team offered to give me a ride home from a dinner in Chestnut Hill, but said they had to make a quick stop to drop off a gift the Sox had for Derek Jeter, of all people. When we pulled into the driveway of this beautiful house, they insisted I be the one to ring the doorbell.
Once again, Larry opened the door.
“Hello,” he said, looking equally puzzled and amused by what was, unbeknownst to me, an ambush by our mutual friend.
“I’m so sorry to bother you so late,” I replied, utterly embarrassed to be showing up unannounced on what was clearly his doorstep. “We’re just here to drop off the Jeter gift.”
“You’ll probably appreciate my baseball room,” Larry said. He then gave me a quick tour of a baseball fan’s equivalent to Disneyland. Then, he told me to open one of the doors near the foyer, and suddenly, I was standing in front of his 2004, 2007, and 2013 World Series trophies.
He took great pleasure in surprising baseball fans in such ways. In recent years, those trophies sat in his suite at Polar Park, and he enjoyed watching fans marvel at the case.
Next week marks seven years since I wrote my first-ever story about the Red Sox. Someone forwarded it to Larry, and he responded with encouragement.
He was someone who still had newspapers delivered. More than once after I began reporting for the Herald, he called to discuss something I’d written, or texted to inform me that it had been too long since I’d been to a WooSox game. I hope I properly conveyed how much it all meant to me.
Larry Lucchino will be remembered for the historic details he thoughtfully included in his ballparks and the countless lives he touched, including mine. Baseball won’t be the same without him, but it is much better because of him.
