A prayer for Van McKenzie

More Van stories please.

Instead of just being sad -- although sad is good, too -- let's laugh a little. Seems like an appropriate tribute to someone so full of life who touched so many.

 

I have several very close friends who are either at the Sentinel or used to work there. I have never heard a negative thing ever said about Van McKenzie and in this industry, where even the greats are openly criticized and second-guessed, that is almost unheard of.

 

To all who have come here to pay tribute....
Thank you.

Van died at 3:31 a.m. with his wife and sons at his side.
Tears now.
Laughter coming soon because that's the way he lived.

 

No doubt, Van already has found the entrance to Heaven’s dog track, where the weather is perfect, the booze is free and his dog wins every time. I might be young, but I certainly understand the magnitude of the news that greeted my morning: We lost a legend today.

I feel extremely fortunate to have been inspired by Van before he left us. He provided me with a priceless appreciation for old-school journalism that I will carry with me throughout my career. If you ever had the opportunity to have a drink (or 12) with Van, you know why his passing saddens many. We might have lost a legendary editor. But we also lost a legendary man.

I’ll never forget how he inspired me, but I’ll also never forget all the amazingly funny Van moments that I experienced in the few years I knew him. Like the time a few of us debated for hours as we threw back dozens of pitchers about whether it was acceptable for Mike Bianchi to steal the uneaten pickle from the room-service tray left outside a stranger’s hotel room. This repulsed Van. Not because Bianchi didn’t know where the pickle had been. But because everybody knows you shouldn’t eat a warm pickle.

Van also was a man that attempted to convince myself and another female reporter why it would be beneficial to our industry if we created “little journalism babies.” He might be the only man I’ll ever meet that could actually seem serious – and not insulting in the least – while producing his argument.

I’m certainly saddened by today’s news. But I’m also thrilled my grandfather finally has a worthy friend and drinking partner in Heaven. This man truly was a legend. He influenced so many lives, including mine. And I will never forget him.

 

So one time I'm beating my brains out on an Ali investigation. It involved Ali's shyster lawyer, Richard Hirschfeld. I'm obsessed with Hirschfeld's evil abuse of Ali's name. I spend 3 months investigating. I've nailed it. I write it.

Van reads it. Says, "Dave, this is about Ali, right?"

Yes.

"But your lede is the lawyer."

Well, he's the bad guy.

"And the next 8 grafs are the lawyer. Every time I think I'm about to read about Ali, I step on that little turd again."

I never said Van was an elegant wordsmith and I never said he practiced sophisticated analysis of journalism. What I have said, and will say forever, is that he had the best instincts for a story of any editor I ever worked for.

I disappeared the little turd into the 12th graf.

 

Thanks for sharing these stories. RIP Van.

This quote immediate came to mind, mostly because as a young journalist, I feel it's important to know and learn about those who succeeded before us:
“A generation which ignores history has no past and no future.”
-Robert Heinlein

 

R.I.P. Van. You will be missed. :'(

 

Never had the opportunity to meet, from all accounts, sounds like a great man in our business. Yet reading the posts here are enough to make me feel incredibly sad. RIP.

 

I dunno, Jeff. If his dog won every time, I don't really think Van would know what to do with himself.

 

Van often lamented the dying breed of true characters in the sports department, and I'm not sure he ever appreciated that he was one of the best and most colorful. I hope everyone gets a chance to read the Sentinel story linked above.

"A journalist by trade and a gambler at heart, McKenzie lived his life with the subtlety of a horse being saddled for the first time. He loved taking risks and fittingly had a fondness for inside straights and slow-running greyhounds."

For Van, every trip to the dogtrack or the jai alai fronton was a chance to get rich, but those who sat around a poker table -- playing obscure games to which only Van knew the rules -- or competed in his beloved fantasy football league knew that it wasn't about the money. He wanted to be the best, and you could see that in every sports section he put out. He had grand visions and surrounded himself by people who could execute them. And I mean grand. One year for the football preview section, Van was convinced that the section absolutely had to have President Bush posed in a Yale cheerleading uniform. Nothing was impossible to him. Even years later, he'd note that, "we almost got him, too..."

I'm not sure a boss could inspire loyalty the way Van did. I'll remember doing shots in a Gainesville Bennigan's the day he told us cancer had found his liver, and I'll remember him dancing in the BET Club in Downtown Disney, getting his son, a sheriff's deputy, to talk the Mickey police out of cuffing some of his irresponsible staff members. I'll remember him in his office and the track and fronton and the poker table. I'll remember ordering nachos on the regular Friday visit to a bad Mexican restaurant -- because he thought nachos was good Mexican food. I'll remember how much he cared for his family and his two little yapping dogs. I'll remember his stories about The National and I'll remember each of our last conversations. "You can never think too big," he said.

A good friend on the Sentinel staff just emailed me a few Van quotes. Here's one:

Aug. 18, 2005, office discussion somehow turns to what happens after Van dies. Van says he has instructed his wife that when he dies there will be no funeral, only a keg. Moments later, Van: "I figure I'll try to die around 1 in the morning, so you guys will be saying, 'Damn, we can't get a beer anywhere. Well, hell, Van's dead! We can drink now!"

And if you didn't make it all the way through the obit, this was at the very end:

"In lieu of flowers, contributions may be made to the Van F. McKenzie Endowed Scholarship Fund c/o CFCC Foundation, 3001 SW College Road, Ocala, FL 34474. This scholarship will be used exclusively to help a promising sports writer/editor. Gifts are tax deductible and will be eligible for state match on a one for one basis. For further information call 352-873-5808."

He'll be missed.