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Fred Claire was an unorthodox choice for general manager, a former sportswriter and public relations man who didn’t play baseball beyond the junior varsity level in high school, and his 1987 promotion to head the Dodgers’ front office was met with skepticism around the game.

A year and a half later, after his shrewd moves helped turn the Dodgers into World Series champions in 1988, Claire was named Major League Baseball’s executive of the year by the Sporting News.

Claire, who spent 30 years in the Dodgers’ front office, died Monday on his 91st birthday. The news was shared on social media by former Dodger broadcaster Ross Porter.

An avid runner and golfer fit and trim enough to pass for a man a decade younger, the silver-haired Claire was diagnosed with squamous cell carcinoma in 2015 when what looked like a harmless spot on his lip turned out to be cancerous.

The growth was surgically removed, but the cancer returned in August 2016, and spread into the left side of his face. Claire underwent radiation and chemotherapy treatments to kill the malignant cells in his body, but the cancer returned again in 2017.

An immunotherapy clinical trial saved his life, according to a story in Pasadenanow.com, but then an infection forced him to undergo even more extensive facial reconstruction surgery at City of Hope in Duarte, replacing his jawbone with a bone from his leg.

Claire was so impressed with his treatment at City of Hope that he teamed with author Tim Madigan in 2021 to publish a book chronicling his career and capturing the hospital’s history as well the stories of patients and doctors. The book, “Extra Innings,” can be purchased at Amazon, with all net proceeds donated to City of Hope.

“The main thing that I liked and appreciated about the book was people buying it because of their interest in baseball,” Claire told the Desert Sun in 2021, “then to discover what a great place [City of Hope] is after reading it.”

Claire was also active in helping fund research — he and his wife, Sheryl, set up a scholarship fund with the USC Keck School of Medicine for research in head and neck cancer.

Claire was born Oct. 5, 1935, in Jamestown, Ohio. His parents moved the family — Claire had a brother and a sister — to Torrance when Claire was a teenager. After graduating from Torrance High, Claire earned a degree in journalism from San José State in 1957 before taking his first newspaper job.

“I graduated on a Sunday afternoon,” Claire told The Times in 1997, “and by Monday morning, I had a job at the Whittier Daily News.”

For 30 years, Dodger Stadium was Fred Claire’s home. “Honestly, in my heart and soul, it was a thrill and honor to have the opportunity to walk into Dodger Stadium every day and go to work,” Claire told the Times in 2017.

(Jack Harris / Los Angeles Times)

Claire spent 11 years as a sportswriter and was covering the Dodgers for the Long Beach Press-Telegram in the spring of 1969 when a position opened in the team’s public relations department.

Claire, who always longed to be involved in baseball, expressed interest in the job and was hired as a public relations assistant, remaining in the position until 1975, when he was promoted to vice president of public relations.

He was instrumental in creating the branding that came to be known as “Dodger Blue” and was directing the team’s marketing efforts when the Dodgers passed the 3-million mark in attendance for the first time. He also hired Ross Porter, a Dodgers broadcaster from 1977 to 2004.

In April 1987, then-Dodgers general manager Al Campanis was fired after making controversial and what many said were racist remarks about Black Americans on “Nightline,” during which he told the show’s host, Ted Koppel, that Black people may lack “some of the necessities” to be the field manager or GM of a major league baseball team.

Claire was then-Dodgers President Peter O’Malley’s surprise choice to replace Campanis, and his hiring raised the eyebrows of his new peers, who saw Claire as an outsider with no background as a player, coach, manager or scout.

“I knew some people might say, what does this guy know about baseball, he covered it from behind a typewriter?” O’Malley said in 2017. “But I knew Fred could do it. And he did it. He deserves a lot of credit for stepping in quickly, without advance notice, and doing a great job.”

The Dodgers suffered their second straight losing season in 1987, but Claire made several off-season moves — acquiring outfielders Kirk Gibson and Mike Davis, shortstop Alfredo Griffin and pitchers Jay Howell and Jesse Orosco — that fortified the club.

The Dodgers, led by National League Cy Young Award-winning pitcher Orel Hershiser and most valuable player Gibson, won the National League West in 1988 and upset the 100-win New York Mets in the NL championship series.

The gimpy Gibson hit his memorable pinch-hit, walk-off homer off Oakland closer Dennis Eckersley in Game 1 of the World Series to push the Dodgers toward their fifth championship since moving from Brooklyn to Los Angeles in 1958.

Kirk Gibson reacts to his game-winning two-run homer in Game 1 of the 1988 World Series.

(John Swart / Associated Press)

Claire dealt a smallish and seemingly fragile pitcher named Pedro Martínez to Montreal for second baseman Delino DeShields in what turned out to be one of the game’s most-lopsided trades. DeShields hit .241 in three years in Los Angeles, while Martinez went on to have a dominant 17-year career that earned him a 2015 Hall of Fame induction.

But during Claire’s 11-year tenure as GM, the Dodgers won a World Series, two division titles, a wild-card berth and a first-place finish in the strike-shortened 1994 season.

Claire also changed the culture in the front office, hiring an analytics expert, holding regular conference calls with coaches and scouts and canvassing the clubhouse to talk with players about everything from their families to their on-field performance.

“Fred gave us that first edge of being progressive and aggressive,” Hershiser told the Times in 2017. Added former Dodgers utility man Mickey Hatcher: “Fred Claire was amazing. For a guy who was suddenly put into the limelight, he asked all the right questions, listened to everyone and believed in all of us.”

Claire was fired along with then-Manager Bill Russell on June 21, 1998, five weeks after executives from Fox News Corp., which purchased the Dodgers earlier that year, engineered a blockbuster trade — deflating to many fans — of All-Star catcher Mike Piazza to the Florida Marlins without Claire’s involvement.

Claire, a man of “integrity and dignity,” as former Times baseball columnist Ross Newhan wrote, walked away with no harsh words or public regrets.

“Honestly, in my heart and soul, it was a thrill and honor to have the opportunity to walk into Dodger Stadium every day and go to work,” Claire told the Times in 2017. “This is truly enough for me.”

After his departure from the Dodgers, Claire worked as a columnist and analyst for MLB.com, a radio show host, an instructor at USC and a consultant to companies involved with sports. He co-authored an autobiography, released in 2004, titled “Fred Claire: My 30 Years in Dodger Blue.”

His response during an interview with Business Renaissance Quarterly in 2007 shed some light on Claire’s philosophy. The question: What do you want to be remembered for?

“I was once in the presence of the late Dodgers owner Walter O’Malley when he was asked this question by a reporter from United Press International,” Claire said. “Mr. O’Malley spun his ever-present cigar, paused for just a second and replied, ‘I want to be remembered for planting a tree.’

“Walter O’Malley’s answer, in my mind, overshadowed the great question. He wanted to be remembered for helping things grow, and in my mind, that meant his family, his friendships, the good causes he was involved in.

“I have seldom planted a tree, but I would proudly borrow Mr. O’Malley’s answer to this question.”

Claire is survived by his wife, Sheryl, and their three children, Jen, Jeff and Kim.

Democrat Xavier Becerra and Republican Steve Hilton debated for 60 minutes Wednesday night on a soundstage in Burbank. Times columnists Gustavo Arellano, Anita Chabria and Mark Z. Barabak watched the gubernatorial match-up and weigh in.

Arellano: Steve Hilton came in with next to no chance of becoming the next California governor, but maybe if he focused on touting the feel-good messages he’s been spouting since launching his campaign in front of the Huntington Beach Pier earlier this year — Make California Gold Again! Califordable! I’m a Legal Immigrant with a British Accent! — he might’ve convinced at least a few voters to go with him.

Instead, Hilton debated like someone already preparing to launch a podcast or beg for his old Fox News job back after he gets walloped. When your solution for solving California’s housing crisis is building 10 new cities, you’re not running for California governor — you’re angling for an influencer job with the Irvine Co.

He whined and grumbled and grinned and quoted someone calling Becerra a “bitch ass,” which would’ve been a funny dig if he wasn’t running to run the greatest state on Earth. Hilton is charming in person, in the way all British people inevitably, initially come off as to Americans, and he has traveled to every California county — and especially to Latino-majority cities. He should’ve shared some of the many stories of hardship that I’m assuming he’s heard over the last year.

Nope! Instead, Hilton attacked Becerra again and again — why? California is a super-blue state, Latino Trump supporters notwithstanding, so Hilton should’ve tried to at least offer a reason for voters to choose him instead of saying — not completely inaccurately — that the problems Californians deal with are the fault of Democrats.

But blaming the other side only gets you so far — just ask Democrats how it worked out with them in 2024.

“We’ve got to try something different,” Hilton said in his concluding remarks. Californians agree — and his name is Xavier Becerra, who last I heard isn’t Gavin Newsom, no matter how much the California GOP is trying to convince people otherwise.

Becerra, meanwhile, didn’t offer much in terms of vision, mostly because he played defense most of the evening. But he didn’t have a major flub, except maybe raising a CNN coffee cup a few too many times. Why, Becerra sometimes even smiled — proof that he’s not some Chicano automaton. He hasn’t agreed to any more debates with Hilton — but after this blowout, Becerra should take the both of them on the road to make Hilton the next John Cox.

Chabria: Becerra came out as more of a fighter than we’ve seen before, even in the earlier Democratic debates. He held his own against Hilton, who is a skilled orator and attacker with a pointed wit and slick accent. But please, for the love of God, Hilton, button that shirt. This is not a casino.

Becerra was the clear winner, and to be honest, Hilton — usually a nimble pugilist — came across flat too much of the time. Maybe he’s already signed his Fox contract, as Gustavo suggests.

But Becerra also failed to lay out any kind of vision for the future of California. He did a good job of fending off Hilton’s attacks, but never told us what a vote for him will bring to the average Californian. There was some talk about housing, about protecting health insurance, but no big picture of what the California Dream of the future is and how we deliver it for the next generation.

I walked away from this debate certain that Hilton hadn’t gained a single voter, and equally certain Becerra hadn’t lost one. But also certain that Californians are rightfully disenchanted with this political moment because it offers little for the people who are voting. Becerra is going to ghost-coast into leading the most powerful state in the nation, and none of us will know what that will mean or why we should care one way or another.

Yes, there is a strong Legislature that will certainly keep the next governor focused on Democratic priorities. But what Becerra stands for remains a mystery that only the next four years will reveal. Let’s hope it has to do with our collective well-being.

Barabak: Xavier Becerra walked onto Wednesday’s debate stage as the overwhelming favorite to become California’s next governor.

Becerra exited the stage a little over an hour later, still the overwhelming favorite to become California’s next governor.

As the Democratic nominee in a state where Democrats enjoy big numerical, structural and political advantages — and have for decades — Becerra needed only to show up at CNN’s Burbank studio, field some questions alongside Hilton and avoid a Bidenesque disaster. (Even that might not have mattered.)

It was an exceedingly low bar, and one Becerra easily surmounted.

He was authoritative, crisp and kept on the offense most of the night, which raises the question of why his campaign handlers have been sheltering him up to now. Yes, it did get a bit repetitive when the Democrat’s response to so many questions amounted to: Trump, Trump, Trump! But that’s hardly surprising in a state where the president is about as popular as $6-a-gallon gas and $10-a-pound hamburger.

What was surprising was Hilton’s failure to do more to unshackle himself from the ball-and-chain sitting in the White House.

He allowed a smidgen of daylight here and there, but not enough to doff the MAGA mantle Becerra has draped around him. If anything, Hilton yoked himself even closer to Trump, sounding at times like his wacky Health secretary, Robert F. Kennedy Jr,. as he talked about vaccines — Hilton said he was for them, but also favored more parental discretion — and re-litigated masking and other pandemic policies from the Biden administration.

Hilton’s most effective moments came when he asked why unhappy California voters should expect anything different if they keep electing Democrats. Not an unreasonable question. Trump Lite, however, doesn’t seem like the remedy most are looking for.

Little to nothing seems likely to change as a result of Wednesday night’s encounter. Still, it was important to give California voters an opportunity to take the measure of the two gubernatorial hopefuls side by side and hear — in something more than a 30-second commercial — how they would lead the state.

It’s far more probable than not Becerra will be the candidate voters choose on Nov. 3. But for those who don’t like Becerra’s vision, his record, Democratic affiliation or, heck, his glasses or salt-and-pepper hair, Hilton offered an alternative — albeit more of a grouchy one than the happy warrior who’s appeared on the campaign trail.

Hilton gave it his best shot. Becerra ably deflected him.

Despite being a lifelong Sunderland fan, Chandler admits basing his team on Kevin Keegan’s Newcastle – with entertainment even placed above winning.

“There was a standing joke in the team, two or three at the back? One time we chased a game with two at the back,” he says.

“The Premier League can be so boring; fans want to be entertained, that’s what we promised.”

Chandler was already a Whitley Bay hero when he was appointed manager by chairman Paul McIlduff, having scored the winner in the 2002 FA Vase final against Tiptree United at Villa Park.

After a slow start as the then-35-year-old with no prior managerial experience found his bearings, Chandler built a talented team which became the envy of non-league football nationwide.

“We played good football. We had pace on the wing, fantastic midfielders, and strikers who were deadly,” says McIlduff, who has been Whitley Bay chairman since 2001.

“When we brought them in, it was about fitting the psychology of the dressing room. No-one thought they were better than anyone else, they played for each other.”

A growing influence in the side was the ‘Whitley Bay Maradona’.

Paul Robinson came through Newcastle United’s academy before a career spent across various non-league clubs in the north-east – including Whitley Bay from 2007 to 2013.

Like several other players and staff, he worked with Chandler both in his day job at software company Sage and at Hillheads Park.

“He was my manager at work and football, I was sick of him,” he tells BBC Sport. “But it helped get time off for matches.”

And it meant he also had an understanding boss if his mind drifted at work.

“Zoning out happened regularly, picturing scoring and winning, what the opposition would be like – hoping they were rubbish so we could have an easy stroll,” he says.

Perhaps Robinson’s greatest Whitley Bay moment came in the 2010 FA Vase semi-final second leg, when his last-minute diving header in the driving rain secured a 6-5 aggregate victory over Barwell, sparking a pitch invasion.

“Everyone goes to the finals, you were there, you could enjoy it,” says Robinson, who is now academy head at South Shields.

“But the rounds before were the bigger games. At home, we would get 2,000 or 3,000 at every game. You felt like a real player. You associate those memories with 90s FA Cup you never think it will happen in non-league.”

Chandler played in a 2-0 win over Preston in round two as they reached the FA Cup third round for the first and only time in the 1989-90 season, and they also progressed to round two the following campaign.

Those seasons of success – made The Bay a feared side for non-league clubs across England, and meant they were ready for the big games in a way most amateur sides are not.

“One quarter-final against Biggleswade [in 2009], they turned up in suits and ties,” says Robinson. “We thought, this is their day out, their cup final. We won 5-2.

“By the end, teams were turning up afraid of us. We had it won beforehand.”

Daley Cross, manager of the England team, said of Lucy’s role: “She was just trying to do her best for him and trying to find a way to motivate him.

“His wife did drop in the conversation that he used to play at Manchester United as a schoolboy. So that got our ears twitched instantly.

“You could tell from him being on the pitch, even though he was so fresh into his journey, that he knew the football game and he would be such an incredible asset to us.

“You can be in a dark place, at the time of diagnosis, through your treatment or even post-transplant. So to have us exist to help and inspire people means that we are getting some incredible footballers.

“And that really is the power of it: to that transplant community or to the world, showing people that when you’ve had organ failure, your life isn’t over. There is a chance for you, and you can go and resume and live your life.”

As the recipient of a donor heart, Jackson has to manage his exercise workload more carefully than his team-mates, many of whom have had kidney transplants, the most common transplant in the UK.

His role in the side tends to involve 10-minute bursts, rather than playing for the duration of matches.

An Australian indoor fitness athlete apologized Thursday for continuing to participate in a recent competition after apparently soiling herself.

Joanna Wietrzyk, a 24-year-old Melborne resident, could be seen with what appears to be fecal matter on parts of her body as she competed in a Hyrox event Saturday in Beijing, China. Despite that, she was permitted to stay in the race — even though the running-workout event involves the shared use of equipment by multiple competitors — and eventually was declared the winner with a time of 1 hour, 1 minute and 23 seconds.

Wietrzyk has decided to “retroactively withdraw from the race and forfeit the points I earned,” she indicated in a Sept. 18 statement posted on Instagram.

“I want to offer my sincere apology to the people of China, my fellow competitors, the spectators and the HYROX organizers for what happened during the race in Beijing,” Wietrzyk wrote.

“I felt completely fit and healthy at the start of the race, with no reason to expect any illness. Looking back, I regret the decision to not have stepped off the track. I recognize that I should have made a different choice. I take responsibility for my decision to continue and am deeply sorry for the discomfort and disruption it caused.

“I know my actions had an impact beyond myself, and I am genuinely sorry to everyone who was affected. I am learning from this experience and will carry those lessons with me, including remembering that there is more to life than racing and knowing when it is right to step away.”

The message contrasted from that of a post Wietrzyk made earlier in the week that, according to the Athletic, also included a selfie of the athlete apparently in a hospital bed.

“Go hard or go home … a win is a win,” the since-deleted post reportedly said. “In all seriousness, thank you for all the support. I’ll be back soon.”

First introduced in 2017, Hyrox indoor fitness competitions are made up of eight 1-kilometer (.62-mile) runs that are separated by intense exercises at eight different workout stations (ski ergometer, sled push, sled pull, burpee broad jump, rowing, farmer’s carry, sandbag lunges and medicine ball squat/throw). Wietrzyk holds the world record in the women’s event with a time of 54:26 set earlier this year.

Hyrox co-founder Moritz Fürste posted a statement Sunday on Instagram apologizing for “the recent events in China” and indicating that the competition has taken unspecified steps to prevent another such occurrence.

“I apologise to all that were directly or indirectly affected, as well as to everyone who felt like we did not handle the situation like we should have,” Fürste wrote. “HYROX made a mistake by not reacting immediately during the race. In the end it is my job to foresee these potential incidents — and I did not.

“Of course, we started improving event processes, plus making rulebook changes immediately. As of this moment, there are new rules and procedures in place to prevent situations like this from happening again.”