A prayer for Van McKenzie

So Roger Maris dies. It's Dec. 14, 1985. Van's at the height of his powers in Atlanta.

Ed Hinton is one of 3 AJC'ers assigned to a Georgia Southern national championship football game in Tacoma.

"Eddie, on your way to Tacoma," Van says, "stop in North Dakota for Maris's funeral."

On his way? "Van, Fargo's not on the way to anywhere."

Van says, "It's out there somewhere. Just go. Get me a prize-winner."

It's mid-December, the great plains, 20-below, -59 wind chill, snow 8' high along the road from the Fargo airport to the one Holiday Inn in town.

Fast Eddie's at the bar, looking for grizzled Yankees from 1961. Plays some $2 blackjack, legal in North Dakota. Sees Bob Allison. Who needs Bob Allison? Now he sees Whitey Ford, a sighting that sets off the newshound alarms in Eddie's brain while also reminding him, "Ford hates the media. Like to tell us, 'Go shit in your hat.'" But you can't fly from Atlanta to Fargo, see Whitey Ford in a bar the day before Roger Maris's funeral, and not move on him.

Only, when Eddie looks up, Ford's walking out of the bar. And now Eddie's in pursuit, 30 feet behind, trailing him "at detective distance." Sees Ford go into a big banquet room, dark, the door open. "And there was every Yankee from the '61 team. Maybe not Yogi. But every other one. Richardson, Duren. They're not drinking because Richardson's a Baptist preacher and Duren's a recovering alcholic. There's Mantle. He's swaying. "Serendipitously," Eddie says, "Clete Boyer's there. And I know Clete 'cause he ended his career in Atlanta. I shout at him and he says, 'Eddie, come on in.' Clete's with Mantle. My God. Ford wants me to shit in my hat, Mantle's swaying, and I'm hearing Van in my head, 'Bring me back a prize-winner.'"

"No, no, no," Mantle says to Hinton. Boyer intervenes. "C'mon, Mick, Ed's a good guy." Mantle reconsiders and says, "Before you take that notebook out, let me get one thing straight with you." Hinton nods to Mantle, who says, "I'sh am not drrrrrunk."

Boyer puts one condition on the interview. Hinton has to drink with them. Boyer: triple vodkas. Hinton: double Scotches. Boyer's comment on Hinton's doubles: "Pussy."

Stories galore. Maris, the great guy, great player, great teammate, misunderstood, terrible the way he died. Mantle says he sent Maris to the same cancer hospital in Dallas that treated his son. As they talk, Hinton notices a thick icy glaze on the banquet-room windows, dead-ass winter as dead-ass as winter gets, so he asks Mantle, "Those '61 Bronx Bombers -- you ever think Roger Maris would wind up in a place like this?" Mantle's expression doesn't change. Tears slide down his cheeks. "I want to go back to Commerce," he says. Boyer says, "I just took my brother Ken back to the Ozarks." Another round here, barkeep.

Prize-winning stuff -- if Hinton can remember any of it in the morning. Can he remember it? With the Gen. George S. Patton of Sports Editors waiting for the story -- that's what Eddie called Van, "Patton" -- damn straight he's going to remember it. Drinks 'til 4 a.m. starts writiing for the Journal's afternoon cycle. "We were in a 24-hour news cycle, and Van wanted it as soon as you had it."

Later that morning at the graveside, a school bus arrives. It delivers reporters from the Times and other New York media outlets. Here's what Van's hungover/done-writing/it's-in-the-paper prize-winning man in North Dakota thought of that moment: "All you New York sumbitches, your asses are beat."

On to Tacoma, but stuck in Denver, a blizzard. Hinton, exhausted, flu's coming, calls Van: "We got 2 other guys going to Tacoma, can I come home?"

Van says 1 guy is driving through Oregon in a snowstorm. Other guy is stuck in San Francisco fog. "You gotta go, Eddie," Van says. "I figure 1 of the 3 of you will get there, I just don't know which one."

Week later, after covering the funeral in North Dakota and the game in Tacoma, Hinton, with the flu, comes to the office.

"I hope you know what I went through," Hinton says to Van. "But I got you your prize-winner."

"See, Eddie," the big man says. "When you get good assignments, you get good stories."

Hinton's Maris coverage won first place in spot news in APSE judging that year.

 

Wow. Just wow. I can't stop laughing at that line.

 

Whenever I read about pay, and the trouble the newspaper business is in, and think of what else I could have done, I hear a story like that, and it reminds me exactly why I started doing what I started doing in 1977, even though a lot has changed in 30 years.

 

Outstanding.

 

my memories of van are far different from others.
they aren't about drinking or gambling.
i saw another side of van.
i was robin to his batman for the past 8 years.
we talked about his love of zz top. yes, zz top.
we talked about his love of '50s doo wop music. i was even forced to listen to it over and over.
we talked about his love of broadway shows, especially smokey joe's cafe.
we also spent many, many hours talking about his love of dogs.
his dogs. my dogs. other people's dogs.
we even spent one lunch or likely 2 lunches talking about starting up a doggy daycare business.
he drew up plans for the building and he even went so far to want to scout out locations.
we talked about tv screens in the rooms. we talked about cameras so people can watch their dogs.
we talked about cost of the service and how i would have to drive around to pick up all these dogs.
and i think my wife would have to spend her day washing these dogs.
i thought it was ridiculous. but he was always the optimist.
that's what life was like around van. never a pessimist.
he listened to the beat of his own drummer.
instead of working, we went shopping, lots of shopping.
we went shoe shopping. we bought drinking glasses from sam's.
we even went to toys r us to buy a plastic horse for his granddaughter.
my favorite shopping story was while we were in seattle for a meeting.
we went to lunch and blew off a meeting, of course.
and he wanted to go to this high-end mall. of course, since i love to shop, i go.
we walk around up and down levels and finally found this one store he wanted to go into.
no, i said. i'm not going in there. come on, he said. just for a minute.
it was a high-end baby clothes boutique.
so we walk in. this 350 pound larger than life man. and his 160 pound sidekick.
we walk around and walk around and this one store clerk, giving us this weird look, walks over and asks whether we needed any help.
no, van says. we're fine.
i'm thinking she probably thinks we're a gay couple finding clothes for our adopted child.
we pick out a few items and he holds them up.
"you like the one with the lady bug?" he says.
"that's pretty cool. what size?" i say.
"i have no idea. she's about this size" as he holds out his arms.
"uh, if it doesn't fit, you can't send it back. we're in seattle! at this fancy clothing store."
"don't worry about it. this is fine. it'll work out."
ever an optimist.
last sunday, when i saw him for the last time, i leaned over to listen to him.
he whispers, "we'll go to lunch soon."
i said, "definitely. looking forward to it."

 

Beautiful, Lynn. Absolutely beautiful.

 

This thread is absolutely heartbreaking even for those who never knew Mr. McKenzie. Because the number of those like him in this business continues to dwindle.

They just don't make legends like this anymore.

 

Best thread ever. Not only am I sad I never worked with Van, I'm sad that I've never worked anyone close to inspiring these kinds of memories and careers. Great stuff from everybody here.

 

I've been around this joint since the beginning and this is quite simply the most life-affirming thread ever.

Obviously never met the guy but when I pass on, I want to find the bar in whatever place he ended up.

RIP

 

Someone sent me the Vanifesto, and forgive me if this was posted earlier, but for those who may have missed it:

April 12, 1999

To the sports staff of the Orlando Sentinel:

I am looking forward to working with each of you very soon.

Not much new has happened in sports sections over the last few years. That’s about to change right here in Orlando, and you’re going to be part of it. Together, we’re going to develop and produce the model for the sports section of the new millennium.

Starting immediately, every decision made will be based on reaching a goal to be the best sports section in the country. Not one of the Top 10. The Best One. It is a lofty goal, and we’ve got some work to do to get there. We’ll start by raising the journalistic standards of the Orlando Sentinel sports section to a higher level. What was good enough yesterday isn’t good enough today. And what we do today won’t be good enough tomorrow.

My first few weeks on the job will be devoted to communication and planning.

I will meet individually with each of you. I expect you to come to the meeting prepared with 10 ideas that will make the sports section better. Those could include investigative and enterprise stories, features or series, beat coverage, graphic and photo coverage, etc. The ideas do not need to be limited to your beat or area of expertise. I have asked
Lynn Hoppes to coordinate these half-hour meetings over the next few weeks.

There will be weekly meetings to discuss each beat. Johnny Whitehead, Roger Simmons and Lynn will arrange these. Various writers and editors, including but not limited to the beat reporters, will be invited. Come with ideas.
We will begin a series of long-range planning sessions with various assistant editors, layout and copy editors, reporters and columnists. Our goal will be a major enterprise project for each day, complete with artwork or photos, starting June 1. To accomplish this, we will need to plan these projects out 100 days and more in advance. All reporters and writers will be assigned at least two enterprise writing projects in addition to their daily beat work and general assignments. I have asked Joan Andrews to oversee this project.

A new daily work schedule will be posted. Everyone will be included: editors, columnists, writers, reporters, etc. When not on assignment, Orlando-based reporters and writers will be expected to be in the office no later than 1 p.m. daily. You will be expected to do much of your writing in the office. Some reporters will be designated as general assignment. Reporters based in other towns will be assigned to be in the office at least once a week.
A few of my ideas and policies everyone should be aware of:

Words to live by: "Never Assume Anything."

Words to die by: "That’s not the way we do things around here."

Every inch of the sports section will be reevaluated. Some former features will be eliminated, making room for new coverage and ideas.

Emphasis will be placed on breaking news. Not just Orlando stories, but national stories too. Reporters will be expected to never be beaten on a local news story. Woe to the reporter who has to cover a press conference to get news.

The best writers I know are also the best reporters I know.

The best reporters work the telephone daily and have personal home numbers for every player in the league they cover.

There will be a premium on ideas that will establish the Sentinel sports section as a unique product with a "personality" all its own.

There will be more opinion and analysis in the sports section.

File photos will not be used for centerpiece art. Live photos and artwork will be used daily. File photos will be used for mug-shots only. This requires advance planning and coordination with the photo and art department.
Copy and layout editors will be expected to be a daily source for stories and graphic ideas.
Stories will be edited tighter, although not necessarily shorter. Some stories, such as game advances and results, will be shorter and more analytical.

It sounds like a lot of extra work. It will be. You might ask, when does the "fun" that I promised start? It starts when you enter a press box and other writers are buzzing about the new Orlando sports section. It starts when other sections across the county copy the new Orlando sports section. It starts when you contact sources and they know you and your newspaper. Most important, it starts when you know you are an important part of the best sports team in the county.

It will happen here.
I promise.

Van F. McKenzie

 

Wow.

 

If I were Johnny Hayseed and reading that memo, I might take it the wrong way.
But it shows the cache he had, to be able to get away with writing that.