Chapter 25 - My relationship with Arturo
I did not speak to my father for eight months after his removal from the board except through counsel or necessary family logistics.
Then Noah asked:
“Can Grandpa come to my game?”
I stared.
“Do you want him?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He likes baseball.”
Noah did not play baseball. Let's make soccer? Maybe Noah could play baseball. Fine. He liked rockets, could play baseball too.
Arturo came.
Sat four rows away.
No champagne.
No executive audience.
Just a grandfather in sunglasses.
Noah struck out twice.
Arturo did not yell coaching instructions.
Progress.
Afterward he approached.
“Good game.”
Noah said:
“I struck out.”
“You also hit a double.”
“Yeah.”
No moral lesson about resilience.
No:
Real men shake it off.
Just baseball.
He looked at me.
“Thank you.”
I nodded.
That was our first exchange.
Over the next two years:
Coffee.
One birthday lunch.
A holiday.
Never financial partnership again.
I remained managing director of VGD.
Arturo remained shareholder until he sold part of his stake in a negotiated secondary transaction.
He kept enough to receive distributions.
No board authority.
That boundary never reopened.
Could I trust him to love Noah?
Yes.
Could I trust him to take Noah to lunch by year three?
Yes.
Could I trust him to sign for the company?
No.
May you like
Different doors.
No contradiction.
