Chris Tilley-Imagn Images

Here are two things that are true about Red Sox owner John Henry:

1. He owns a newspaper, the Boston Globe.
2. He refuses to speak to the press.

Henry hasn’t taken questions from Red Sox reporters since 2020, amid the nuclear fallout of his club’s decision to trade Mookie Betts. Following Boston’s excision in April of longtime manager Alex Cora and five of his coaches, the Fenway Sports Group boss faced renewed calls to speak publicly.

“The owner’s silence isn’t golden,” wrote The Athletic’s Brittany Ghiroli, “it’s cowardly and speaks volumes about how one of the sport’s most iconic franchises has become rudderless.”

Stephanie Apstein, then of Sports Illustrated, also excoriated Henry for his refusal to face the music, declaring that he “should sell the team” — an opinion shared by the fans who chanted just that at Fenway Park earlier this season.

With the second half of their season beginning on Friday and the trade deadline fast approaching, the suddenly red-hot — but still sub-.500 — Red Sox face a crucial decision point. Will they be sellers if they scuffle or tread water coming out of the All-Star break? Or load up for a run at a wild card berth? Right now, Boston is only a half-game out of the final spot. Will chief baseball officer Craig Breslow be able to add salary to bolster his squad, winners of nine straight and 14 of its last 16? Through it all, Henry has kept mum.

Back in 2014, after Henry bought the Globe, I wrote a profile of him for Boston Magazine (a publication that Henry added to his media portfolio last year). For the piece, Henry and I engaged in a lengthy email back-and-forth over the future of journalism. After Cora was fired, I figured I’d try sending him another email, this time asking why he’d decided to stop talking to reporters.

“I saw it as unproductive,” he wrote back, in part. “Why? Because the Sox have a baseball chief, a CEO, a manager and a chairman speaking. There are plenty of front office voices every day.”

Henry’s silence over the last several years has always struck me as strange. In 2013, when he purchased the Globe from The New York Times Company for $70 million, it was already clear that you had to be absolutely out of your mind to buy a newspaper. The industry was in free fall, with no bottom in sight (still the case). At the Globe, things were bleak: Just a few years prior, the Times Company had threatened to shut down the paper unless its unions made $20 million in concessions. Other suitors for the Globe were proposing massive cuts to try to bleed out whatever profit they could before tossing its carcass off the Tobin Bridge.

In an interview for that Boston Magazine story, the Globe’s then-and-current editor-in-chief Brian McGrory recalled the sale process: “Do you have any idea what it was like to sit in a conference room at a downtown hotel, day after day, eating God-awful catered food, sitting there with people who you know just wanted to cut the living bejesus out of the place that you love the second they got their hands on us? And you had to be polite, you had to be informative, and these meetings stretched on forever, five, six hours at a time—most of the time I got so bored I just had to leave.”

Henry entered the Globe bidding having seemingly already secured his place in Boston history. Armed with a fortune made in futures trading, in 2002 he led the ownership group that purchased the Red Sox from the Yawkey Trust for $660 million. Henry promptly turned the historically inept franchise into Major League Baseball’s gold standard. The legendary 2004 curse-breaking team was followed by another World Series winner in 2007. As the Globe sale played out, the Red Sox were on their way to their third title in less than a decade, with another to come in 2018.

When I asked Henry why he wanted to buy a newspaper, it became clear that he’d started to think about his legacy beyond baseball. He replied, “I wanted to be a part of finding the solution for the Globe and newspapers in general. I feel my mortality. I don’t want to waste any of the time I have left, and I felt this was a cause worth fighting for.”

Unsurprisingly, his meeting with McGrory was the best of the bunch. Henry made clear to the editor — and the Times Company, which was looking for a graceful exit — that he wanted to save the Globe for the sake of Boston and New England.

And here’s the crazy thing: He has. With his wife Linda Pizzuti Henry installed as CEO, the Globe has emerged as one of the strongest regional newspapers in the country, if not the strongest. (Disclaimer: I am a freelance reporter who sometimes does work for the paper.) The Globe is far from perfect, but it has won Pulitzers, expanded its coverage of New England, and, God bless, continued to let Dan Shaughnessy bash the ever-living crap out of the Red Sox. John Henry has, in many respects, authored a phenomenal media success story.

So why won’t this savior of journalism talk to journalists?

This was the full response Henry sent to my question this spring:

I felt it was important to step forward when the Globe was for sale for the reasons you cited. Local news is key for a community — especially ours. I believe that more strongly than ever. It was hemorrhaging cash and shrinking. It needed a new set of strategies to survive.

It took years of work with a great editor and Linda becoming CEO to turn things around. She has been passionate about the mission, about the business and is a terrific leader.

To your question, I stopped speaking with local media about sports more than a decade ago with few exceptions. As you put it, I saw it as unproductive. Why? Because the Sox have a baseball chief, a CEO, a manager and a chairman speaking. There are plenty of front office voices every day.

I know that local media are frustrated that once again I’m not taking questions from them, but I had a long, close relationship with Alex. I’m not going to discuss why these changes were made. It would be a disservice to Alex and others. This is a very emotional time for my family who loves Alex and his family.

This is a tough business for families, and the Red Sox are a family. I made a statement thanking Alex for what he brought to the organization over the years.

Henry is the person ultimately responsible for setting Boston’s payroll, which has slid from the top of the league in recent years. I emailed him back to ask whether he owed public accountability on that count to the fans. In other words, doesn’t the buck stop with him? This time, he didn’t reply.

In May, Henry accepted a Lifetime Achievement Award from the Sports Business Journal. Standing before a well-dressed crowd at the Marriott Marquis in New York, he said, “When I arrived in Boston 25 years ago, I was told, ‘If you win the World Series in Boston, you’ll never have to buy another drink in this town.’ It doesn’t actually work that way.”

For someone who thinks about his legacy — and for whom the “sell the team” chants clearly rankle — the joke felt close to the bone. Henry continued his speech with an homage to the dedication of his FSG team, saying, “We work every day on behalf of the fans.”

Working on behalf of the fans is great, but if Henry wants those free drinks, he’s going to have to start talking to them again, too.