When Padres owner John Moores answered his cell phone, he was in the Caribbean, hanging around, just, you know, being a rich guy. He recently had deposited CEO Sandy Alderson and his Gilligan friends at the club's spanking-new digs in the Dominican Republic.
So, in that Moores wasn't doing much, I asked him what's going to happen to his baseball team.
"I'll go on record," he said. "One hundred sixty-two wins."
I laughed and told him he knew that wasn't what I was asking, at which he couldn't help chuckling. People are wondering, and it has nothing to do with wins and losses. The 2008 Padres will win their share and lose their share.
What we're asking: Whose share will they be under?
After 44 years of marriage, Moores' wife, Becky, has filed for divorce. In California, there is an equal split in community property, and Padres property certainly was part of the John and Becky Moores' community when hubby purchased the baseball team in December 1994.
So, we can't help wondering. My bosses can't help wondering. The fans can't help wondering. What's going to happen to this team, other than 162-0?
But, for obvious reasons, Moores, who doesn't discuss much with the media, anyway, is very reluctant to let us know what's going on in his private life, although he is not shy about speaking of other things on his mind. But long ago he went on record saying he intended daughter Jennifer, who now serves as a minority owner and a member of the team's board of directors, to eventually take over the ballclub.
This he again acknowledged: "And I hope, one day, my grandchildren are involved.
"But I think things are going to go along like always. I can't comment, except to say owning the Padres has been one of the great jobs of my lifetime."
Jennifer is the daughter of John and Becky. So, it's doubtful things are going to change much in that regard, but there's a whole lot to divvy up here.
During our conversations in the past, Moores, who also serves as chairman of the board of the philanthropic and important Carter Center, has expressed his concerns about many things, some involving the way this city is run.
But, for years, since he got Petco Park built and then revitalized downtown, he has been concerned about the Chargers' search for a new stadium.
And he still wonders – there are times when he seems to worry more about the Spanoses' football team's plight than his own baseball club – as the Chargers spelunk in Chula Vista for new property. He says people assume he knows what's going on with the Chargers, in that he went through the arduous and costly travails of getting his own ballpark built.
But he always asks me what I know. And I only know what people tell me, so I don't know much. What's going to happen with the Chargers is an enigma wrapped around Agatha Christie's head.
"I don't know," Moores said. "I don't understand how San Diego works. We went through the fires of hell to get something built. But this is so obvious. Oh, my Lord."
Once again, Moores is speaking of his pet topic, the 96-acre Tenth Avenue Marine Terminal, which he correctly has called a "ghost town," and real estate that would be an ideal spot for the new football stadium.
A few years ago, a couple of colleagues and I toured the terminal at 1:30 on a Tuesday afternoon. The warehouses were empty. The only human beings we saw were the security guards, who had no problem allowing us on the site without identification.
Mark Fabiani, the Chargers' general counsel who runs point on new stadium issues, has said the terminal would be an ideal spot because all roads, parking and infrastructure are in place. But it's Port of San Diego land, and the Port, giving in to the unions, has said no.
"The best site is the one you toured, where you didn't see diddly in the way of commerce going on," Moores says. "It's probably the most underutilized piece of great real estate in Southern California. The unions regard it as their property, but there's so little activity; what goes on there easily can go on someplace else.
"All that stuff should be gone. The thought of having a port downtown is laughable. I don't think, other than you, anybody's looked into that place. There's nothing there. It's a wasteland on the water in downtown San Diego. We can put the Chargers there, but Chula Vista is the right answer now?
"Tell me. What was the last successful development in San Diego? Petco Park. That terminal is so small. Building a stadium on that site would be great for everybody."
Moores genuinely is concerned about the Chargers.
"If the Chargers leave town, the real loser is San Diego," he says. "People who don't think the Chargers are at risk aren't thinking seriously."
Even when their private lives have gone wrong, there are people in this city – maybe because they were born and raised somewhere else – capable of thinking clearly.