Yankee director fired by Steinbrenner many times, but never left

Rick Onderko was the director of operations with the New York Yankees from 1993-98. He remembered Steinbrenner as a demanding boss that had fired him numerous times but never really meant it.

"He was tough, but he was fair," Onderko said. "I miss it at times now. He gave me some tough skin to be out there in the world."

Onderko recalled the first time single-game tickets to spring training were sold at what was then Legends Field. A line of fans stretched from the box office to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard.

Onderko said he got a call from Steinbrenner demanding to get coffee and hot chocolate to the waiting fans. Onderko followed the orders, only to get a call from The Boss a while later wondering why there weren't any doughnuts.

"They had to be Krispy Kreme glazed doughnuts," Onderko said, "Because that's what he liked."

That afternoon, fans still were in line, and Onderko decided to be proactive, handing out free hot dogs to those fans still waiting for tickets.

Steinbrenner called and asked about lunch and Onderko said it was taken care of.

"You know how much that will cost me?'" The Boss asked. "It's coming out of your paycheck."

Of course, Onderko said, it never did.

"At the end of the day if he liked you, he would always say good job and wink at you," Onderko said. "We had our moments. I was fired over 100 times, never had to clear out my desk."

Malio Iavarone, owner of Malio's Steak House, said Steinbrenner was a regular at the landmark eatery in South Tampa, before it reopened downtown. The Boss had his own room. So, too, did Tampa native and current Chicago Cubs skipper Lou Piniella. Steinbrenner would hold court in his private room, occasionally confiding in Iavarone after difficult days and sometimes doing blockbuster deals, such as signing pitcher Roger Clemens.

Iavarone said Steinbrenner was extremely generous to him and everyone at Malio's, from handing out huge tips to restaurant staff to bankrolling Iavarone himself. One day, Steinbrenner asked Iavarone what he was paying on his business' loan, and the restaurateur told him 7 percent interest. So eager was Steinbrenner to help his friend that he offered to give Iavarone a $1.5 million loan with no interest.

Figuring he had to pay at least something - to satisfy the IRS, if nothing else - Iavarone insisted he should pay at least 2 percent, and the two men struck a deal. Another beneficial term: Iavarone wasn't required to pay back the principal until the restaurateur retired. He eventually paid back Steinbrenner in full, he said.

"I loved George," Iavarone said. "He used to call me the godfather of Tampa, and I used to call him the J. Edgar Hoover."

Dick Greco, former mayor of Tampa, has fond recollections of Steinbrenner.

Steinbrenner was one of the most fiercely competitive people Greco ever met, the former mayor said. Once, the two men were watching a Buccaneers game at the old Tampa Stadium when a player dropped a pass. When the player's coach patted him on the back, Steinbrenner recoiled.

"What is he doing?" an incredulous Steinbrenner asked. "When you miss a pass, you don't pat someone on the back!"

That competitiveness showed up in everything Steinbrenner and Greco did together, whether watching ballgames, playing tennis or fishing. And it must've led to the high-profile run-ins Steinbrenner had with former Yankees such as Dave Winfield and manager Billy Martin. Steinbrenner felt he had to be tough on his players and employees to bring out the best in them, Greco said.

But, Greco insisted the Yankees owner had a softer side that few knew about. If he heard about a person who couldn't pay for a funeral or someone who needed help rebuilding a house, he'd often call up the mayor to get more information.

The same day that he lambasted the player for dropping the easy pass, Steinbrenner nudged Greco and pointed toward the sunset.

"Now, why would anyone not want to live here?" Steinbrenner said of his beloved Tampa.

Steinbrenner was much more than the fiery persona known up north.

"We got to see the whole person," Greco said. "And New York didn't know that."

Coleen Mayo, a waitress at the International House of Pancakes on South Dale Mabry, recalled Steinbrenner as being a regular customer and that he always sat in the booth by the door so he could see everyone coming and going.

"He would say hi to everybody," she said. "He was nice to customers, would say hello to anyone who came up to him."

Mayo said Steinbrenner's favorite dishes included liver and onions and an occasional steak.

"He was an awesome tipper," she said. "And he would tip all the staff in the restaurant, not just his waitress."

Mayo said Steinbrenner invited some of the staff to a Yankees spring training game a few years ago. She said he made sure they got VIP treatment. And that's how she remembers him - as someone who made everyone feel special.

"Tampa's going to miss him," she said. "New York is going to miss him. Baseball is going to miss him."

When thieves broke into Gwen McCree's School of Music off Martin Luther King Boulevard in east Tampa and stole $10,000 worth of instruments, she feared that would be the end of her program that serves inner-city students.

Then George Steinbrenner read the story in The Tampa Tribune and came to her rescue. He promptly sent over a check to replace the stolen equipment.

"He wasn't the type to just hear about a problem and move on," says McCree of that 1998 burglary. "He became part of the solution. The man had the heart of God."

Steinbrenner was contacted by the Tribune shortly after he made the donation. Asked why, he answered simply: "I believe we build cities and we build communities one young mind at the time."