Reporters' memorable Steinbrenner encounters

I remember walking out of the elevator and into the lobby of the Yankees' spring-training complex following one of my first days there in 2004, and there he was. George Steinbrenner was sitting in the security booth, alone in the middle of this dark room.

This had to have been around 9 o'clock at night, maybe even later. That day's workout had ended many hours earlier and all the employees were long gone. Except for The Boss. That spring training proved to be one of the final times when Steinbrenner was actively available to reporters, which made for an unforgettable journalistic experience.

He was a reporter's dream, of course, because you never quite knew what he was going to say. Or when he was going to talk.I remember conducting an interview with him from the street while shouting over bushes. And another time he answered questions through the passenger window of his car while he signed autographs through his driver's side window. Sure, the uncertainty of keeping tabs on The Boss at all times made for many headaches, but the unpredictability kept it fun and memorable.

- Jim Baumbach

Before one of the games in Cleveland during the Yankees' dominant run to the 1998 world championship, a few of us writers just happened to be heading upstairs at Jacobs Field the same time George Steinbrenner was. We didn't have to wait long because the elevators and everything else ran smoothly at The Jake, the beautiful, then-new ballpark in Steinbrenner's hometown.

"Gee, what a stadium this is," said the man who almost never would admit that anything, anywhere was better than anything that involved the Yankees.

"We need one just like it," he added.

Of course, it took me about a minute, upon reaching the press box, to write that as the lead paragraph to my story for the Oct. 10 paper. But the few of us who were there knew that Steinbrenner wouldn't settle for a park just like The Jake. Eleven years later, he would be there to see the opening of the much grander, one-of-a-kind new Yankee Stadium.

- Mark Herrmann

George Steinbrenner said that he had a demanding father, and with every move he made, you saw George Steinbrenner acting as a father figure: Exceedingly demanding, yet ultimately supportive.

Having been around the Yankees extensively since 1998, my favorite George moments undoubtedly occurred during spring training. He was around nearly every day -- he constructed Legends Field to be an easy drive from his Tampa home -- and he was relatively relaxed. After all, his team was still undefeated.

He could still get irritated and provide good quotes, however, so we always had to be on the lookout. We staked him out as he ate lunch, and at the elevator bank. We chased him up and down hallways and from one floor to the next. It was like a Keystone Cops cartoon.

On the final day of spring training in 1999, the Yankees were one out away from finishing their Grapefruit League schedule, breaking camp and flying to Los Angeles. Hideki Irabu was on the mound, and he had made news for failing to cover first base in his previous start.

So, with one out to go,there was a grounder to the right side, and Irabu failed to cover first base. The entire press box knew exactly what to do: We jumped from our seats and ran toward the elevator. We had to get George.

He emerged, furious, and gave us an all-timer: Irabu, he said, looked like a fat toad.

Chaos followed. Irabu refused to leave camp with the team. The Yankees' flight was delayed for hours. George, as always, was in the middle of it, running things and occasionally checking in with the media. Ultimately, the team left without Irabu.

It was classic George, the carnival barker in a three-ring circus that he created. There will never be anyone else like him.

- Ken Davidoff

My one encounter with George Steinbrenner lasted all of about nine seconds, maybe 15 seconds if you include the actual time of visibility. Of course, I had to wait about five hours for it to happen, but such is life when your assignment that day was "Steinbrenner Watch."

Basically, the task is to wait outside the Stadium entrance before the game and hope he stops and says something. Then, you wait outside the Stadium entrance after the game and hope he says something.

That day was Sept. 4, 2004, one day after Kevin Brown broke his non-pitching hand punching a wall.

Steinbrenner whisked by a group of us before the game. Said nothing.

After the game, a 7-0 loss to the Baltimore Orioles, we caught up to The Boss as he walked the few feet from his side entrance to the Yankee blue Lincoln parked outside the door.

He didn't stop.

But, we yelled questions and he answered.

His answer: "No, I'm not happy."

Steinbrenner then got in his car. Before he pulled away, he rolled down his window and put his hand on a young boy's head and offered a few words. And yes, myself and the other reporters flocked to the child and asked him and his dad some questions.

"That's good for a few hundred words," a reporter said to me afterward.

And with that, Steinbrenner drove off.

- Mark La Monica