Jimmie Lee Solomon
By Jack DeGange, former sports information director at Dartmouth

Jimmie Lee Solomon weighs about five pounds less than when he was a fleet wide receiver for Dartmouth’s football team in 1976-77.

He’d better be in good shape, considering the pace he maintains — like the business trip that took the senior vice president of baseball operations for Major League Baseball (MLB) from his office in New York to Los Angeles and back to Chicago, all in one day last June.

He likes to run three miles at least three times a week but that morning “my legs got heavy after a half-mile,” said Solomon.

It was one of the rare moments when Solomon slowed down in a position that led Sports Illustrated to rank him ninth among the 101 most influential minorities in sports. His former Dartmouth teammate and NFL linebacker, Reggie Williams, now the vice president of Disney Sports Attractions, was 88th in the rankings.

Solomon’s job description touches virtually every aspect of Major League Baseball. He oversees major league, minor league and international operations as well as the Major League Scouting Bureau and the Arizona Fall League. He implements and enforces major league rules and regulations, reviews game protests and club-to-club grievances, and handles approval of contracts, facilities and ground rules.

There’s one more duty that gives the job a dimension that Solomon finds most satisfying: handling various special projects relating to MLB.

These are the initiatives that get Solomon’s adrenaline pumping: creation of the MLB Baseball Academy, the All-Star Futures Game that showcases minor league prospects, the Reviving Baseball in the Inner City (RBI) Program, and the Minority Umpire Scholarship Program.

“Basically, I’m a boring administrator,” said Solomon, “but my passion is to develop these projects. I decided I’m not going to stay within the box of my job description. I want to let my passion dictate what my job is and who I am in this industry.”

Incidentally, if you take a walk through MLB’s executive office in midtown Manhattan you’ll find the place is as Green as Fenway’s Monster. The place is a perpetual Dartmouth mini-reunion site. Solomon’s boss is Sandy Alderson ’69, executive vice president of baseball operations. Their boss is Bob DuPuy ’68, the president and chief operating officer of MLB. Down the hall are Tom Ostertag ’78, MLB’s general counsel, and Ed Burns ’85, another MLB staff counsel.

MLB’s staff in New York probably outnumbers the entire population of Thompsons, a speck on the Texas map southwest of Houston where Solomon, the son of a rancher, grew up. A captain of his high school football and track teams, he was heading to Kansas State until Dartmouth’s track coach, Ken Weinbel, came calling.


“Coach Weinbel was in the area recruiting another kid and decided to stop by,” recalled Solomon. “He invited me to visit Dartmouth and I ran into some of the football coaches. I met with (coach) Jake (Crouthamel) and it became a dual recruiting visit.”

Solomon arrived at Dartmouth in 1974 as “a rural southern Black guy in a time of a lot of social change. I felt isolated. Think about this: having to drive two hours to get a haircut from a Black barber. (Sociology professor) Ray Hall was from Texas. He helped me tremendously to deal with social issues but I nearly left after my freshman year.”

The man who convinced Solomon to stay at Dartmouth was Harry Wright, one of his high school coaches who became one of the first Black high school principals in Texas. Ten years later, Solomon was instrumental in recruiting Harry Wright Jr. to Dartmouth. Wright became an All-Ivy linebacker and co-captain of the 1991 team. At Dartmouth, Solomon became a favorite target of quarterback Buddy Teevens, who later was Wright’s coach. During two seasons, Solomon caught 37 passes for 420 yards. He also became an All-Ivy sprinter for Ken Weinbel.

The history major and Albert Bradley Scholar had two options when he graduated in 1978. “I was hoping to play in the NFL,” he said. The Houston Oilers gave him a tryout but when the Oilers said “no” Solomon had Plan B in place: He’d been accepted into Harvard Law School.

Three years later he moved to Washington, D.C., where he still lives (commuting to New York every Monday morning). He spent ten years with the law firm of Baker & Hostetler, working with a variety of corporate clients but also handling assignments for the NFL Management Council. The firm also allowed him to represent some professional athletes and college coaches. One of those coaches was Teevens who Solomon represented in contract negotiations with Dartmouth and Tulane. As Solomon recalled, “It became ‘Go Big Green’ in more ways than one.”

Solomon’s move to Major League Baseball came in 1991. “I’d met Steve Greenberg (a Yale grad and son of Hall of Famer Hank Greenberg),” said Solomon. “He was deputy counsel to (Commissioner) Fay Vincent and introduced us. We talked about the need for someone to oversee minor league operations.” Within two weeks he was offered the job. As executive director of minor league operations for MLB (Solomon suggested the title), he had authority over 17 minor leagues and 171 member clubs.

His first task was to heal what had become an adversarial relationship between MLB and the minors. He made it happen though the process was long and took every ounce of Solomon’s patience. But he learned about the baseball industry and was ready for more when Commissioner Bud Selig promoted him to his current position in 2000.

Today, Solomon is what MLB.com writer Tom Singer calls “an agent for change,” charged with developing the initiatives that will help to secure baseball’s future.

“The NFL is very popular,” said Solomon. “The NBA with Michael Jordan and now LeBron James is popular. We have a declining number of African Americans and other inner city minorities in the U.S. who are being exposed to baseball.

“We’re losing good athletes to the other sports. And, these kids aren’t becoming fans.”

Add it all up and Solomon sees the problem: declining numbers. His solution: Introduce baseball back to the inner city where politicians and city planners are working to revitalize downtown areas. It’s easy to lay down blacktop and put up a basketball goal. Green space, including baseball diamonds that involve maintenance expense, is another story.

“We’re working against that pressure,” said Solomon.

The trip last June to Los Angeles was to discuss MLB’s first domestic Baseball Academy in nearby Compton (others already exist in the Dominican Republic, Venezuela and Puerto Rico).

“This is where I’m going to be an agent for change,” said Solomon. “The baseball academies will bring a bricks and mortar presence that supports the Reviving Baseball (RBI) program. My hope is that every major league club will want an academy in the shadow of their own ballpark.”

Solomon doesn’t think these facilities have to be big and magnificent. “Jazz up an existing area, build a clubhouse and classrooms,” he said. “The concept is more than baseball instruction and clinics. The academies will teach other skills — groundskeeping, umpiring, scouting plus computer skills.

“We want to have more than baseball players there, like the Minority Umpire Scholarship Program that will help us get a more diverse group of umpires — Hispanics, Latinos, Blacks — into the system.

“This will bring more people into the baseball industry. If the Central Office does it, all 30 (major league) teams benefit (rather than working independently to develop talent). It makes economic sense.”

Making new fans is what prompted Solomon to create the Futures Game (the first, in 2000, was part of All-Star Week at Fenway Park).

“The All-Star game showcases major league talent,” he said. “We’ve had an Oldtimers Game to recall our history. I don’t know about you but an old guy in jeans or a baseball uniform isn’t that attractive to me.

“I don’t want to forget the past but I want to show our future. Have the guys from yesteryear sign autographs and be honored but leave the playing to our present and future guys. That shows the fan what’s in store for them if they give us a chance.”

The last thing Jimmie Lee Solomon is today is a mundane, boring administrator for Major League Baseball. He’s moving faster than when he was a split end/flanker for Dartmouth. His current definition of a touchdown pass is a new idea, something “outside the box” that creates change and will position baseball as the Great American Game for years to come.

***Please note, this story was used in a previous Ivy League Black History Month celebration. It is reproduced here for archival purposes and has not been updated.***