A 'Man of Mystery' Steps Into the Spotlight
Principal Owner Theodore N. Lerner Prefers to Let His Ownership Team Do the Talking

By Les Carpenter
Washington Post Staff Writer
Thursday, May 4, 2006

Glasses clinked and there were smiles and hugs in the Roosevelt Room of the Fairmont hotel last night as the new owners of the Washington Nationals waited to make their debut.

But Theodore N. Lerner, patriarch of a real estate empire, did not smile. His first news conference was clearly not something he looked forward to. "How do you deal with this?" the notoriously reticent Lerner asked sportscaster and partner James Brown, muttering that he certainly hoped this would be the last news conference he ever attended.

Then a publicity man shouted for everyone to line up. It was time to walk across the hall and meet the world. Lerner frowned as he took his seat at the front of a packed dais, flanked by his son Mark on one side, team president Stan Kasten on the other. Packed around them was a rainbow coalition of minority partners, whose existence has been the subject of so much consternation.

"I had not realized I was such a man of mystery until I read a couple recent newspaper articles," Lerner told the assembled throng.

"Let me tell you a little bit about me," he said.

Lerner tried, waxing nostalgic about selling Liberty magazine and the Saturday Evening Post door-to-door to earn the quarter that would gain him entry to the Griffith Stadium bleachers where he watched Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig and Ted Williams play.

But then came the questions, four of the first five of which had to do with either why Lerner refuses to speak to the media or how serious a role his minority partners would actually play.

Lerner responded by leaning back in his chair and deferring to his son and Kasten, making it clear that the former Atlanta sports executive would be the public face of the franchise.

At one point, a reporter tried three times to ask Lerner about his competitiveness only to have Kasten, son Mark D. Lerner and son-in-law Edward L. Cohen answer instead. Ever persistent, the reporter tried a fourth time and Lerner finally responded by saying, "I concur with everything that's been said."

Soon the questions stopped being about Lerner at all, and shifted to race. As in the frantic scramble some have suggested the Lerners made to grab African Americans to join their group and match the diverse makeup of rival groups in an effort to placate Major League Baseball.

Among those around him were Brown, Rodney E. Slater, the former U.S. secretary of transportation, Paxton K. Baker, executive vice president of Black Entertainment Television's digital networks, and B. Doyle Mitchell Jr., the CEO of Industrial Bank N.A.

"We're all Americans -- Hispanic Americans, African Americans," Baker said.

Just this week, D.C. Council member Vincent B. Orange Sr. (D-Ward 5) derided the late announcement of Lerner's minority partners as "renting blacks" while council member Marion Barry (D-Ward 5) called it "show dressing and store fronting."

But when the Lerners walked into the auditorium beneath the Fairmont for their news conference, Orange was standing in the crowd. He was introduced. Smiles all around.

Then as local sportscaster George Michael was trying to get Lerner to gush over a congratulatory e-mail from Wizards owner Abe Pollin that Lerner hadn't even seen, Barry walked in.

At first he was invisible in the packed room. A knot of reporters clogged his way. But the former mayor has not endured all these years without knowing something about an entrance. Clad in a tan suit he gently shoved his way through the crowd with a robotic walk.

Slowly he inched his way forward, nudging himself toward the front of the auditorium one step at a time until he stood halfway up the crowd in plain view of the stage below. Suddenly, Edward Cohen pointed into the television lights.

To Barry.

And the room was filled with applause, from the owners on the dais, the members of their families in the crowd and even Orange. Barry beamed.

Soon the woman moderating the news conference said there would only be a couple more questions "before everyone melts" in the heat.

Ted Lerner looked relieved.

But even those last queries would not be easy. To Slater: Is it true he is thinking of running for governor of Arkansas? Slater said he has a friend running and left it at that

To Faye F. Fields, who owns a technology company in Falls Church: "Can we hear from the woman partner?" Fields replied "you have to ask me a question."

Then it was over and Barry practically bounded down the stairs to embrace Brown who had just stepped down from the platform. He looked at the stage, still filled with most of the owners, and jumped up. Someone said something about a picture and everyone gathered in, Barry and Orange sliding right into the middle.

Barry thrust out his chest, squinted his eyes and smiled wide.

Ted Lerner, his ordeal finally over, quickly left the stage followed by his partners.

Only Barry lingered.

"They asked me to come up here," Barry said. "You should have heard the applause I got when they introduced me. They know what time it is."

Barry had stolen the moment but not Ted Lerner's day.