Gene Budig, whose first few months were spent in a Nebraska orphanage, went on to become the president of three major American universities and then the “baseball czar” of the American League. While raising almost $1 billion for college scholarships and distinguished professorships – and while deciding several on-the-field disputes that had a major impact on the Great American Pastime – the actionloving Budig thrived on the kind of high-adrenalin decision-making pressure that would leave most people looking for an exit. His take-home message, at the age of 71: “Life is a marvelous gift, and I’m the most fortunate man I’ve ever met.”
By Tom Nugent
0 1 0 2 30 summer2010
ig d u B ogs Gene D r e v i R n rlesto Cha
“I remember the moment when he arrived,” Budig said during a recent interview in New York. “He came in unannounced, and he scared the entire staff. He didn’t say anything to them – he just stormed in. There was this long hallway, and I’m there at the end of it, and suddenly there he was, bigger than life. “So I offered him a chair. I said, ‘Please sit down.’” And he said: “That won’t be necessary; I won’t be here very long.’ And it was then that he told me what he thought of baseball executives. “It wasn’t pretty. He also pointed out that as a former university president, I was obviously ‘over-qualified’ to serve as the president of the American League. Of course, I had already been warned by some of the other team owners that I would be ‘tested’ by Steinbrenner, and that he could be a real bully, if you allowed yourself to be pushed around by him.” Budig wasn’t about to let that happen, however. “I listened to him carefully and politely,” he recalled. “Then I thanked him for taking the time to drop by and offer me some advice on how to do my job as president of the American League.” While gazing calmly at the snappish Steinbrenner – and while refusing to be rattled by his intentional mispronunciation of “Budig” (as BUD-ig, rather than the correct BYOO-dig) – the steely-eyed AL president refused to blink. In the end, it was The Boss who seemed to lose his cool. Intent on proving that his tirade had achieved its desired effect (even though the target had remained poker-faced and unaffected throughout), the irked Yankee owner barked at a Budig staffer as he departed the premises for his limousine down on Park Avenue: “Well, I think he got the message, all right!” But Budig wasn’t intimidated by that first encounter, as it turned out. In the years that lay ahead, until the end of his presidential term in 2000, Budig fined The Boss several hundred thousand dollars in total penalties for throwing high-profile tantrums of one kind or another – usually during season-ending playoff games when Steinbrenner was desperate to win at all costs. In one celebrated incident during a Yankee AL championship matchup with the Seattle Mariners in 1995, Budig slapped Steinbrenner with a whopping $50,000 fine for suggesting that an umpire calling balls and strikes was in urgent need of an eye exam. Budig reviewed the scorching post-game comments by the Yankee Mugwump, and it didn’t take him long to decide that Steinbrenner had crossed the line.
One morning back in the spring of 1994, an angry man named Steinbrenner decided to pay a visit to a soft-spoken, mild-mannered gentleman from Lincoln, Nebraska. Steinbrenner’s first name was George ... but most of the people who worked for him – or read about him almost daily in the New York City news media – referred to him simply as The Boss. George Steinbrenner was the billionaire owner of the fabled New York Yankees professional baseball franchise, and he was famous for pushing people around. Get in his way, and he’d roll over you like a runaway 18-wheeler and never look back. On this spring morning 16 years ago, the rumbling 18-wheeler was about to make a surprise visit to a gentle-voiced educator for whom he’d already devised a thoroughly sardonic nickname: The Doc. The showdown took place inside a high-rise office building on stately Park Avenue – the elegant headquarters of the American League’s newly installed president, one Gene A. Budig (B.S., ’62; M.A., ’63; Doctorate, ’67). A diminutive man who wears thick, steel-rimmed spectacles that give him the look of a cheerfully meditative owl, Budig was a former UNL English major who’d already served as the president of three major American universities. Only a few months before Steinbrenner’s trek along Park Avenue, the American League team owners had surprised the baseball world by selecting the low-key, self-effacing Budig as their brand-new president. Predictably, Steinbrenner had been appalled by the selection. What the hell did a college “egghead” know about the rough-andtumble world of pro baseball? And where would this “ivory-tower professor” find the steely nerve required to discipline pitchers who threw at hitters’ batting helmets ... or to overrule the incompetent umpires who’d undoubtedly be making stupid decisions that would cost the Yankees important victories in the days ahead? (Describing the new league president to a Big Apple sports reporter, The Boss soon made headlines by thundering: “I’m not sure what Dr. Budig’s experience is, [and] I’m not sure when the last time he wore a jockstrap was!”) Showdown. On this mild spring morning 16 years ago, Steinbrenner had decided on impulse to drop by the AL president’s office and put the fear of The Boss into him.
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Newspaper Cub Lands Blockbuster Interview!
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spaper reporter never forgets. t was the kind of moment a youthful new reporter was one Gene A. Budig. The year was 1961, and the youthful king as a cub on the Lincoln His assignment: find a way – while wor an interview with one of the get to Star and attending UN L on the side – e Hall, the founder of the mighty titans of American business: Joyce Clyd Hallmark greeting card empire, who had , recently returned to his native David City . for a brief visit , Budig, barely 22 years old at the time An . him nst knew the odds were agai intensely private man, the millionaire entrepreneur rarely granted newspaper interviews. But Budig’s editor at the Star was had insisted ... and the reporting tyro h. trut of ent mom now facing the Standing on the front porch of the Hall home in David City, the jittery Budig took a deep breath. Then he rapped on the door. Thirty seconds passed ... and the imposing front door finally opened. It was the titan’s sister Marie ... and she did not look happy to see the cub. “I identified myself and asked if I l– could have a few words with Mr. Hal ’t do that,” the didn just l Hal Mr. that d and she explaine a door swung open behind her, then t 71-year-old Budig remembered. “Bu and then he nodded and said: ‘Come and there he was. He listened to me ... on in and let’s talk!’” ed up and talked at length about “It was a remarkable exchange. He open of Hallmark, and he told me how his life and times, and about the founding cards on the streets of David City.” he’d gotten his start by selling penny post l would also have an For Budig, the interview with Joyce Hal and soon after becoming the ... unforgettable sequel. Twenty years later the former cub reporter would call chancellor at the University of Kansas, s needed to build a major new on Hall’s son Donald in search of fund pus. academic complex on his university cam lt was the architecturally resu the Donald was happy to help ... and ies on the KU campus, toward magnificent Hall Center for the Humanit million dollars. which the Hall family donated several life,” said Budig. “That meeting “It’s amazing how things work out in me to go see him in Kansas City two with Don’s father opened the door for us launch a terrific academic decades later, and that meeting helped resource. career, and knocking on that door “I think I’ve been very fortunate in my moves I ever made.” n in David City was one of the luckiest
“I knew that if I allowed him to get away with blasting our umpires – while referring to them by name – I would lose all credibility with the rest of the owners,” said The Doc. As the embattled AL president mulled his decision, he felt no fear. Why should he? Gene Arthur Budig, who had spent the first few months of his infancy in a Nebraska orphanage, and who had gone on to become a Nebraska gubernatorial aide and then the president of three major American universities (Kansas, West Virginia, and Illinois State), had already overcome some formidable odds in his extraordinary life ... and he would not be cowed by the glowering visage of the roughest and toughest man in American sports. “I saw what I had to do,” Budig remembers with a quiet smile, “and I knew that I didn’t really have a choice. “I thought about it for a day or so ... and then I brought the hammer down.” Although The Boss didn’t like it much, he paid the fine on time – and he even made a few suggestions about which charities Gene Budig should select to receive the $50,000, once the check had cleared. “George and I went around and around for a few years,” said Budig with a smile, “but we became great friends in the end, and I was delighted to be able to profile him in my recent book about nine remarkable American success stories, “Grasping The Ring” [University of Nebraska Press]. He complained about my portrayal of him, of course – and then ordered 25 copies for his grandkids! “George Steinbrenner is a tough, tough man, that’s for sure. But I also think he’s been very good for baseball. He’s brought a great deal of attention to the game, and that has helped to sell a lot of tickets over the years. Say what you will about George, he’s a truly dedicated baseball executive. And what a lot of people don’t realize is that he’s actually got a kind heart. “Every time I ever asked him to write a check for a charitable cause, he not only came through ... he often wrote that check for two or three times the amount I was hoping to get!”
AN AIDE TO THE GOV, AT AGE 24 orn in Lincoln in 1939 (“My first address was the St. Thomas Orphanage”), Gene Arthur Budig was
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soon adopted by a family from McCook ... where he grew up as the son of an underpaid auto mechanic and a nurse’s aide, both of whom struggled to get by on their slender earnings. “My early days in McCook certainly weren’t easy,” the 71-year-old Budig recalled, “and as I grew up and went to school, I soon realized that my parents were locked into their situations by lack of education. My father was a kind, thoughtful man ... but he had quit school in the sixth grade, and he wasn’t going to be able to do anything more than work on cars for a living. Unfortunately, both my parents lacked the tools to improve their lot in life. Without higher education, they were in no position to dream. “I remember as a kid thinking about how hard they worked and how little they had to show for it, and I realized that I wanted to do something with my life that would have an impact. Even before reaching high school, I think I understood that education is the great equalizer, and I was determined to get the best education I possibly could.” Although he spent a lot of hours studying and working part time as a schoolboy, the youthful Budig also found time for what became one of his great passions: baseball. “I played Little League,” he said with a glint of pride, “and if I may say so, I was a much better hitter than [Nebraska] Sen. [Ben] Nelson (B.A. ’63; M.A. ’65; J.D. ’70), who also grew up in McCook and was only a year ahead of me. “By the time I hit the sixth grade, I already knew all the players in the major leagues. I knew their histories, and I knew their batting averages. I became a real student of the game ... never dreaming, of course, that one day I’d end up as the president of the American League.” Along with hitting baseballs and earning high grades most of the time, the hard-charging Budig early on discovered another talent that would stand him in good stead: the ability to shape powerful sentences in English. That gift paid off handsomely, he said, after the local newspaper in McCook assigned him to write feature stories about student life in the westNebraska town of about 7,500. “The Daily Gazette was very good to me,” he recalled with a gleam of nostalgia, “and the experience I got writing stories for them was extremely helpful in landing me a reporting job at the Lincoln Star, once I started taking classes at UNL.”
Somehow, the remarkably ambitious Budig found a way to work full time at the Lincoln paper while also taking a full academic load. Arriving on the UNL campus in the fall of 1958, he soon capitalized on his writing skill ... and on his connection to the local newspaper. “I was quite fortunate, really, because my professors in the English Department would often read my stories and comment on them. “They would also offer suggestions on how I could go about making my stories deeper and richer, and the discussions we had were very helpful in broadening my outlook as both a writer and a newspaperman.” Budig’s growing number of contacts in the Lincoln area soon paid off in another way: even as he worked on his UNL master’s degree and then a doctorate in education (1967), he was getting to know elected officials from one end of the Cornhusker State to the other. Within a few years, he was tapping those contacts with masterful skill ... en route to becoming a key administrative aide to Nebraska Gov. Frank B. Morrison (196167) ... at the tender age of only 24. “Looking back, it’s a little hard to believe,” he said. “I was extremely fortunate, that’s all – but I soon found myself writing speeches for Gov. Morrison, and then a little later, I became one of a dozen or so gubernatorial assistants who would prepare speeches for LBJ and Hubert Humphrey. For me, being able to accomplish all of this while still in my 20s was a hugely important lesson – because it showed me the power of the written word, and how far your writing skill could take you, if you were willing to work hard at it.”
What followed was a meteoric career as a chief executive in the rarified world of higher education. After four years at ISU, Budig landed the top job at West Virginia University (1977) and then at the University of Kansas (1981). During his 22 years as a university president, he raised more than $900 million for student scholarships, endowed professorships and infrastructure development. So how difficult is it to spend your days in a ceaseless quest for major financial contributions from well-heeled alumni? “At first I felt a little uneasy about asking people for money all the time,” Budig recalled with a chuckle. “But then one day I suddenly realized: Hey, this money isn’t for me. I’m not getting any of it; these resources are going to be spent on helping students to get an education, and on building new classrooms and medical research facilities, and on bringing some of the world’s best teachers and researchers to campus. “From then on, it was actually rather fun to travel all around the country, looking for ways to raise all of these endowment funds from hardened business people who wanted you to account for every single dollar.” During his six years as American League president, Budig reconnected with his lifelong passion for baseball. While mediating numerous play-calling disputes on the field and presiding over continued growth in attendance at the nation’s major-league ballparks, he realized all over again that he loved the game with a deep and abiding affection. Three years ago, he made sure that his connection to the game will remain unbroken ... by purchasing a New York Yankee minor-league baseball affiliate, the Charleston RiverDogs. Along with co-owner and business partner (and superstar movie actor) Bill Murray – whom he describes as both “the funniest man in America and a terrific businessman” – Budig said he’s now having the time of his life as a baseball owner in his own right. He’s also very proud of the fact, he said, that his Charleston ball club not only admits kids under 12 to games free of charge on Sundays ... but also lets them consume all the hot dogs, hamburgers, popcorn and soda they want without paying a single dime. Along with urging the RiverDogs on to victory several times a week,
ENJOYING HIS NEW LIFE – AS CO-OWNER OF THE RIVERDOGS fter spending several years as Gov. Morrison’s chief of staff, Budig signed on as an aide to then-UNL Chancellor Clifford Hardin. Because of his earlier experience in the statehouse, he was perfectly qualified to serve as the popular Hardin’s liaison to state and federal government. By 1973 – and by now armed with his UNL doctorate in higher education administration – the upwardly mobile Budig emerged as a prime candidate to run a university ... and in that year nailed down the first of his three university presidencies, at Illinois State.
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Budig On Baseball
American League (1994-20 00), During his six years as President of the e’s most revered superstars. gam Gene Budig got to know many of the from the American Pastime. Here’s his take on six legendary figures ger-outfielder, who died of e, superstaAugr slug Mantlholi Mickey ust, 1995: “He was a human tragedy. tions from alco sm in complica ete in the history of sports, but he Mantle was perhaps the most gifted athl played five or six more years if he’d took no care of his body. He could have taken care of himself.” and the , batting legend for the Boston Red Sox illiams.400 Ted W was our “He 1): (194 on seas plete com a ng duri er to hit over
last play poken, and was also a hero in two John Wayne. He was big, strong and outs teams – the Boston Red Sox and wars as a [combat] pilot. He loved two a man of remarkable insight and the United States Marines – and he was courage.”
the Charleston-based Budig flies back to New York City frequently in order to work at his other job ... as the Distinguished Professor and Senior Presidential Adviser to the non-profit College Board, which advocates for better writing and science teaching in the world of higher education, among other national education goals. In recent months, Budig has also spent a lot of time in New York as the chairman of the upcoming “Pinstripe Bowl” football game, which will later this year pit a top gridiron team from the Big East college ranks against a high-ranking team from the Big 12. In a twist of irony that he now finds delightfully amusing, the Pinstripe Bowl (to be played yearly from now on at the new $1.5 billion Yankee Stadium in late December) was the brainchild of none other than ... New York Yankees owner George Steinbrenner!
of New York Yankee immortal, and one ggio, the Joe ’sDigreaMa k he thin ’t don I ... test legends: “DiMaggio was so complex
baseball that all of his fame would someday was ever truly happy. I think he feared driven a shrink crazy. That shrink be taken away from him. He would have aggio as a patient.” would have retired after having Joe DiM who received , a 22-year major-league hitting phenom but is now acknowledged as one little media attention during his career minimal media coverage until his of the game’s greatest players: “He had when his stats finally emerged and closing years [Aaron retired in 1976], e his achievements]. He was never challenged the whole world [to recogniz until after he retired. But he handled it accorded the recognition he deserved represented his sport with grace.” well, because he’s a humble man who
Hank Aaron
demeanor l of Fame pitcher known for his fierce bson, Hal Bob Gi en to driv was “He rs: hitte wing brushback pitches to intimidate and thro pitchers of all time. He was so excel, and he became one of the greatest he was actually menacing in that focused and so dedicated to winning the major leagues revered him as a his appearance. But every manager in ected.” professional who was universally resp
“The Boss,” the notoriously ner, akaNew einbren GeoredgeandSt York Yankees since 1973: blunt-spoken owner of the
hard-nos so mild-mannered and soft-spoken, “He would always kid me about being being that. But that’s the way he was, as if there was something wrong with t people did not like him on that especially on the first meeting ... and mos first meeting. talked issues that involved money “He was also very shrewd. And if you ever s that represented dollars to him – – like television issues or scheduling issue good friends eventually, but he wasn’t you’d better be prepared. We became office and demand to see you alone. easy to deal with. He’d walk into your of the room, He’d ask you to send your assistants out not them. you, see to and he’d always say: ‘I’m here American [as you ng payi e we’r I know my stuff, and League President] to know your stuff. ing!’” “‘Let’s get the cards out and start play
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Having raised three kids with Gretchen Van Bloom Budig [BA, ’71], his wife of 48 years, and having risen to the highly esteemed rank of eminence grise in both the sports world and the world of higher education, Gene Budig is today enjoying his life as an author who’s published half a dozen books on sports and higher education and also as a veteran teacher who’s proved that “America truly is the land of opportunity, for those who want to work hard and continue educating themselves throughout their lives.” Above all, he said, his life is about “giving back,” and his message is a message of gratitude: “When I look back at what I came from – as a little baby living in an orphanage, and then as the adopted son of an automotive mechanic with a sixth-grade education – I feel very fortunate, indeed. “Really, when I think about it ... I’m the luckiest man I know.” n