Richard Justice: The Letter

[weams]

Schuerholz was 26 years old and plenty happy teaching at North Point Junior High in his hometown of Baltimore. He was newly married and making the whopping sum of $6,800.

Life was good.

"I loved teaching," Schuerholz said.

His original career plan was to play for the Orioles. He'd attended Baltimore City College High School across the street from Memorial Stadium, and spent plenty of hours gazing at that magnificent structure thinking it was meant to be.

"For some reason," said Schuerholz, "they overlooked my talent."

Schuerholz did star in both soccer and baseball at Towson State. When he finished his degree in secondary education, he found something he loved.

When Schuerholz wrote the letter in 1966, he was teaching world geography and other classes, while also taking night classes at Loyola University -- aimed at getting a master's degree.

Then, for some reason he still can't explain, during a break one day, he sat down and crafted a letter to Hoffberger. He just had a nagging sense that he was meant to do something else.

"I wanted to be in baseball," Schuerholz said.

His timing was perfect in ways he couldn't have imagined.

"I explained to Mr. Hoffberger that I was near my master's degree. I'd played baseball, I was decent at it, I still love it, it's still in my blood," Schuerholz said. "This combination of an administrative/academic background I'm providing myself and my love of baseball might be attractive, yada, yada, yada."

Hoffberger handed the letter to his team president, Frank Cashen.

"My letter arrived at a time when everyone had just been promoted," Schuerholz said. "Harry Dalton was promoted to general manager, Lou Gorman was moved up to director of player development and there was no one on the bottom rung of the ladder in baseball operations/assistant director of player development."

Schuerholz? That name rang a bell with Cashen.

"In addition to being a lawyer and working for the brewery, he was at one time a sportswriter," Schuerholz said. "When he was a sportswriter, he knew of the Schuerholz family name. My grandfather, William, was one of the most renowned basketball coaches of his era. My dad, John Boland Schuerholz, was regarded as the Bob Cousy of his day. My uncle, Gilbert, who was my godfather, was the goalie on the United States Olympic Soccer Team. Frank Cashen used to read about and write about and know about my family.

"He said, 'If this guy comes from this family, we at least ought to talk to him. He comes from good stock.' That's what he told me when I went to talk to him."

And so the Orioles asked Schuerholz to come in for an interview.

That day, he met with three legendary baseball men -- Cashen, Dalton and Gorman. At the time, the Orioles were on their way to sweeping the Dodgers in the 1966 World Series.

They'd constructed a franchise that was smart and efficient, a franchise built on great people -- not only talented executives, but great scouts and smart instructors. Later, their work would come to be known as the Oriole Way. Back then, it was just the way they did business.

Schuerholz's core beliefs were shaped in those four years in Baltimore, watching and learning.

"Harry and I had a nice conversation," Schuerholz remembered. "He [was] so sharp. He [could] analyze. I answered honestly and passionately when I felt it and whatever. He took me to Lou Gorman. Lou and I hit it off. We were like two peas in a pod. He knew immediately. After he hired me, he said, 'As soon as I had my talk with you, I knew you were the one I wanted to work with. I wanted you to be with me.'"

Only thing is, weeks passed, and Schuerholz didn't hear back from the Orioles. He figured he'd given it his best shot.

He was two courses from finishing his master's, which would mean a nice bump in that $6,800 salary.

"I came bounding in the door one Saturday morning with a trophy not much larger than your iPhone," Schuerholz said. "[i was as] proud as a peacock because our faculty basketball team had just won the Baltimore County Recreation League Championship. I've got this trophy, and I'm flying high. I didn't think I could feel any better.

"I had a message to call Lou Gorman. I said, this is 'Thanks for your interest, but the job's going elsewhere.'"

Gorman got right to the point.

"I'm going to offer you the job to be my assistant with the Baltimore Orioles," Gorman told him.

http://m.braves.mlb.com/news/article/102179572/richard-justice-john-schuerholz-is-a-baseball-institution-after-almost-50-years

And congratulations to Silent James and Kate.

[weams]

"That was our philosophy -- the Oriole Way," Schuerholz said. "I learned that from Lou Gorman and Harry Dalton and Frank Cashen. Surround yourself with good, talented, committed people. Lay out the vision clearly. Map out the goals precisely. Provide a roadmap, so that every individual knows what they have to do and how they must do it to get to the organization's goals -- and their goals individually for their career path. Empower them. Honor them. Trust them. Motivate them -- and stand back."

Another Harry Dalton apostle, Dan Duquette, won the Baseball America Executive of the Year award today.

[OFFNY]

Richard Justice: The Letter

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