ST. ANDREWS, Scotland – Louis Oosthuizen walked over the Swilcan Bridge toward a victory that was never in doubt Sunday at St. Andrews, another big moment in sports for South Africa.

This celebration, though, carried a different tune.

The drone of vuvuzelas, all the rage at the World Cup, was replaced by the skirl of bagpipes coming from behind the Royal & Ancient clubhouse. For the 27-year-old South African, the sound could not have been sweeter.

With a performance that rivaled the dominance of Tiger Woods at the home of golf 10 years ago, Oosthuizen led over the final 48 holes and blew away the field by seven shots to capture the British Open.

“To win an Open championship is special,” Oosthuizen said. “But to win it at St. Andrews … it’s something you dream about.”

The timing could not have been better — one week after South Africa concluded a wildly popular World Cup, and the day Nelson Mandela celebrated his 92nd birthday.

“It felt a bit special, really,” he said. “When I walked down 18, I was thinking about his birthday.”

By then, the hard work was done. Oosthuizen (WUHST’-hy-zen) made only two bogeys over the final 35 holes in a strong wind that swept across the Old Course. He closed with a 1-under 71 for a seven-shot victory over Lee Westwood, who was never in the game.

The only challenge came from Paul Casey, who got within three shots after the eighth hole, then drove the green on the par-4 ninth. Oosthuizen answered by hitting driver onto the green and knocking in a 50-foot eagle putt to restore his cushion.

Three holes later, Casey hit into a gorse bush and made triple bogey, while Oosthuizen holed an 18-foot birdie putt.

Oosthuizen spent the final hour soaking up an atmosphere unlike any other in golf with his caddie, Zack Rasego. He finished at 16-under 272 and became the first player since Tony Lema in 1964 to win his first major at St. Andrews.

Just as Lema did when he won, Oosthuizen ordered bottles of champagne for the press.

Never mind that everyone struggled to pronounce his name. All that mattered was the spelling on the bottom of that claret jug. And yes, the engraver used the abbreviated version — Louis — not his given name of Lodewicus Theodorus Oosthuizen.

With the fifth victory of his career, Oosthuizen moved to No. 15 in the world. And as a sign of just how global golf has become, it’s the second time this decade that the four major championship trophies reside on four continents.

“Nobody was going to stop him,” said Casey, whose adventures in the gorse sent him to a 75 and a tie for third with Rory McIlroy (68) and Henrik Stenson (71). “He didn’t miss a shot today. I don’t know if he missed one all week. That was four days of tremendous golf. He didn’t flinch today.”

No, there was only that gap-tooth smile that earned him the nickname “Shrek” from his friends. And there was amazement across his face when he cradled the oldest trophy in golf, a silver claret jug with his name etched alongside Woods, Jack Nicklaus, Ben Hogan, and the other South African winners — Gary Player, Bobby Locke and Ernie Els, his mentor.

Without the Ernie Els & Fancourt Foundation in South Africa, the son of a farmer could not have afforded the travel required to reach the game’s highest level.

“It was great to have a South African winning it on Mandela Day,” said Dennis Bruyns, the chief executive of the Southern Africa PGA. “And there was a great sense of satisfaction in having a South African caddie with him, too.”

It was the fifth major for the Springboks dating to Retief Goosen winning the U.S. Open in 2001, and the first at the British Open since Els won at Muirfield in 2002, a victory that inspired Oosthuizen.

“Shrek is on the move,” Goosen said. “I knew he had a lot of talent. He grew up in an area (Mossel Bay) that’s very windy, so for him, these conditions are normal. The guy’s got one of the best swings on tour. I think he’ll be around for many years to come.”

Some 45 miles away, Player was returning from a golf outing and listening to every shot on the radio, proud as can be. He saw the potential during a practice round they played at the Masters this year.

Player called Oosthuizen on Sunday morning and gave him a pep talk.

“I told him he’s got to realize that lots of people are hitting bad shots,” Player said, not knowing how few of those the kid would hit. “And I told him the crowd was naturally going to show a bias. But I reminded him when I played Arnold Palmer in 1961 at the Masters, only my wife and my dog was pulling for me. I told him he’s got to get in there and be more determined to win.”

Oosthuizen was relaxed as he could be, putting his arm around Rasego after hitting off the 18th tee and walking over the Swilcan Bridge, thousands of fans packed into the grandstands, along the road and peering out the shop windows.

“It’s a proud moment for us, especially with the Old Man, winning on his birthday,” Rosega said. “Winning at St. Andrews, it’s unbelievable. He deserves what he’s just done.”

The 150th anniversary of golf’s oldest championship was memorable in so many ways.

It began with Rory McIlroy tying the major championship record with a 63 in some of the calmest conditions at the course. It ended with someone other than Woods hoisting the claret jug in front of the R&A clubhouse.

Woods tapped in on the final hole and removed his cap to salute the gallery, just as he did the last two Opens at St. Andrews. Only this time, the tournament was still two hours from finishing. Woods made two double bogeys on his way to a 72 and tied for 23rd.

It was his seventh tournament of the year without a victory, matching the longest drought of his career.

“I’m not going to win all of them,” Woods said after his worst 72-hole finish in a major in six years. “I’ve lost a lot more than I’ve won.”

No way he was going to win this one. Neither was anyone else.

Oosthuizen might have been nervous, but it didn’t show. Charl Schwartzel, his best friend from their junior golf days in South Africa, ran into him on Saturday and said Oosthuizen was showing him comedy videos on his phone.

“This was about an hour before he teed off,” Schwartzel said.

If anyone showed nerves, it was Casey. With the warm applause from a British gallery that had not seen one of its own holding a claret jug in 11 years, he hit wedge to 4 feet below the hole at No. 1 to send a message. The birdie putt caught the right lip, however, and it took until the sixth hole before Casey could make a birdie.

He wasn’t alone. Of the final 10 players to tee off, only Goosen made a birdie on any of the opening five holes.

Oosthuizen plodded along with pars.

“He’s doing all the things he needs to do,” said Woods, who has more experience than anyone playing from ahead in a major. “He’s being consistent, putting all the pressure on Paul to come get him. He doesn’t need to go out there and shoot a low round today.”

Oosthuizen went 24 consecutive holes without a bogey until his streak ended on the par-3 eighth hole by missing a 6-foot par putt. That trimmed his lead to three, and Casey hit driver onto the par-4 ninth green.

Whatever momentum he had didn’t last long. Oosthuizen also drove the ninth green and holed his 50-foot eagle putt to restore the lead to four shots, same as when he started. And this Open effectively ended three holes later.

Casey drove into the gorse bushes left of the 12th, took a drop back toward the seventh fairway, came up short of the green and wound up making a triple bogey, dropping him eight shots behind.

Oosthuizen spent the final hour with a big grin on his face, although he started out that way, too.

The biggest smile came on the 18th green, with a hug for Rasego, and an embrace with wife Nel-Mare and 7-month-old daughter Jana. It will be years before the child can appreciate the magnitude of this moment.

“I will say, ‘That’s the day Daddy makes us the proudest,’” his wife said. “And we’ll never forget it.”

ST. ANDREWS, Scotland – Louis Oosthuizen still remembers getting together with other kids from the Ernie Els Foundation to watch highlights of their hero winning the British Open at Muirfield in 2002.

The shot out of a pot bunker on the 13th. His birdie on the 17th to tie for the lead. The bunker shot on the 18th hole to win the longest sudden-death playoff ever in a British Open.

“We were actually getting goose bumps,” Oosthuizen said. “Just seeing that … you’re always thinking, ‘I hope that happens to me.’”

Hard as it is to imagine — even to the 27-year-old South African — it just might.

After opening with a three-putt bogey, Oosthuizen played with remarkable poise on another windswept afternoon at St. Andrews. He never dropped another shot, never stopped smiling, and finished with a drive onto the 18th green for one last birdie and a 3-under 69.

It gave him a four-shot lead over Paul Casey and put him one round away from becoming the first player in 46 years to capture his first major championship at the home of golf.

This, from a player who had only made it to the weekend one time in eight previous majors. From a South African who had never won on the European Tour until four months ago.

“I don’t think anyone was thinking I was going to be up there,” Oosthuizen said. “You’ve heard yourself, no one can actually say my surname, so they don’t even know who I am out there. It’s great being up there. I just want to enjoy everything about it. I loved it out there. It was great fun for me. And hopefully, tomorrow will be the same.”

Gary Player left him a message at his hotel. Els called Saturday morning for support, telling Oosthuizen to enjoy himself on a stage like no other in golf. Eight years after leaving the Els foundation, Oosthuizen still follows his instructions.

Oosthuizen (WUHST-hy-zen) was at 15-under 201. A victory Sunday would make him the first player since Tony Lema in 1964 to win his first major at St. Andrews.

“The Open at St. Andrews would be something special,” Oosthuizen said. “It’s one of those things you dream of.”

Everyone kept waiting for him to fold, and the final test in the third round came on his second shot to the 17th green, where the pine was planted perilously behind the Road Hole bunker. With a slightly uphill lie, Oosthuizen couldn’t bounce the ball away from the bunker and onto the green. So he played it safe, riding a 5-iron with right-to-left wind, keeping it between the bunker in front of the green and road behind it. He didn’t mind that it ran through the green and onto the 18th tee, just as Casey was preparing to hit his tee shot.

Casey smiled. Lee Westwood walked over to the ball and acted as if he was going to smash the ball back at Oosthuizen.

The way he’s playing, even that might not have stopped him at St. Andrews.

“I’m loving the fact I’m playing absolutely great golf and I’m four shots behind Louis,” Casey said.

Casey went out in 31 when the wind was at its strongest, and mostly into his face. He finished off a bogey-free round of 67 that puts him in the final group of a major for the first time. He was at 11-under 205.

It might be a two-man race between players who have never seriously challenged in a major. In fact, none of the six players within nine shots of the lead have won a major.

Oosthuizen was seven shots clear of Martin Kaymer of Germany, who had a 68 and was alone in third. Another shot behind — and eight shots out of the lead — were Henrik Stenson (67), Alejandro Canizares (71) and Westwood (71), who didn’t make a birdie on the front nine but did well to at least stay in the game.

Americans have won six of the last eight Opens at St. Andrews, but they have disappeared in this one. Dustin Johnson birdied his last two holes for a 69 and was nine shots behind.

Tiger Woods, who won the last two times at St. Andrews by a combined 13 shots, has never been within four shots of the lead all week, and he wasn’t even close Saturday. He had four long eagle putts — only one of them on a par 5 — and three-putted for par on three of them to shoot 73. He was 12 shots behind, sure to match his longest start to the season without a victory in his seventh tournament.

“I’m playing better than my position,” said Woods, who was tied for 18th. “I certainly have had a lot more putts on the greens than I ever have, and that’s something that has basically kept me out of being in the final few groups.”

Phil Mickelson, who had a chance at the start of the week to go to No. 1 in the world, was another shot behind. Whatever momentum he had was lost with a 5-iron that he hooked out-of-bounds for a double bogey on No. 16 for a 70.

The South African heritage at golf’s oldest championship dates to Bobby Locke winning four times in a nine-year stretch after World War II. Player won the claret jug three times, and Els was the most recent in 2002.

Oosthuizen, whose career was made possible by the Ernie Els Foundation at Fancourt, had to wait 28 hours from his last putt on Friday to his opening shot Saturday.

“It felt like a week-and-a-half,” he said.

He promptly three-putted for bogey as his lead shrunk to two shots. Considering it was only the second time he made it to the weekend at a major, it looked as though it wouldn’t be long before he wilted from the pressure. It was his only bogey. He picked up his first birdie on the seventh hole, then added a surprise birdie late in his round with a 60-foot putt.

Even with a four-shot lead — the largest 54-hole lead in the Open since Woods led by six shots in 2000 — the real test comes Sunday.

Casey ran off three birdies in a four-hole stretch early in his round, and he got as close as one-shot with a two-putt birdie on the ninth. But he had to settle for nothing better than par on the back nine, missing a 5-foot birdie on the 18th.

“I’m having a great time, and I’m going to go out there tomorrow and enjoy myself and have a good attitude,” Casey said. “I know what this golf course can do. It can give you some great moments, and it can give you some horrible ones.”

A few weird moments, too.

Miguel Angel Jimenez added another highlight to the infamous Road Hole when he turned his back on the green and banged a shot off the waist-high wall, where it caromed back over the road, up a slope and onto the green.

Mark Calcavecchia wound up with a quadruple-bogey 9 on the par-5 fifth hole when he hit into a gorse bush, played a provisional for a lost ball, picked up his provision shot when he heard the ball was found, then learned that the ball wasn’t his. That explains his 77, which sent the 50-year-old tumbling down the leaderboard.

Woods also hit into the gorse for a bogey on the fifth. On the next hole, he hit a low shot to the front of the green for a birdie chance, but the wind blew it some 20 yards back into the fairway before he got there.

Moments like those might be enough to give Westwood hope.

Johnson had a three-shot lead going into the final round of the U.S. Open and shot 82. The largest comeback in British Open history is 10 shots by Paul Lawrie at Carnoustie, but that required a debacle by Jean Van de Velde on the last hole.

“Strange things have been happening this week,” Westwood said. “It can be done — we know that. It depends on the weather. If it’s a miserable, windy day, anything can happen. But Louis and Paul look like they are playing well.”

NAGOYA, Japan – Sumo is more than a sport to Japan. It’s like a religion, a bastion of traditional culture and a matter of national pride. Wrestlers aren’t just athletes — they are icons, role models and, often, larger-than-life heroes.

Unless, of course, they are getting busted for smoking marijuana, breaking noses in drunken brawls or hobnobbing with gangsters.

And, these days, that’s pretty much all the time.

Causing Japan much consternation, recent police investigations have exposed the colorful sport’s cozy connections to the “yakuza” underworld, outside-the-ring violence and widespread recreational drug use, dragging sumo’s venerable image through the dirt and prompting many to wonder if it can stand up to modern scrutiny.

Sumo’s unrelenting scandals have gotten so bad that Japan’s public broadcaster, for the first time since 1953, has pulled its ongoing tournament from the air, scrapping three hours of live, daily coverage for a 20-minute program of taped highlights.

Sponsors have bolted and fans are staying away in droves. At the 15-day contest now under way, where the stands are only about half full, police officers are prowling entrances under signs saying “Gangsters Keep Out.”

“It’s a very tough situation for the wrestlers,” said Tamako Imoi, a 63-year-old fan. “I love the sport, that’s why I’m here. But I don’t want them hanging around with criminals. They should live up to their traditions.”

Sumo’s latest quagmire involves a criminal investigation into dozens of top wrestlers and coaches who allegedly wagered tens of thousands of dollars on baseball, with gangsters as go-betweens.

The fracas started in the tabloid press, which has long alleged sumo is rife with underworld influences, including bout-fixing — allegations officials have repeatedly denied.

This time, however, the charges have stuck.

Popular wrestler Kotomitsuki, who held the sport’s second-highest rank, admitted last month he bet on professional baseball. Police say he was then extorted by a gangster who threatened to go public. Soon after Kotomitsuki’s fall, coach Otake, who is a former wrestler, cried on national TV as he acknowledged running up betting debts of more than $50,000.

The association sidelined both, and punished more than a dozen others — an unprecedented seven top wrestlers are sitting out the tournament. The association’s chief was temporarily replaced by a former public prosecutor.

“The crisis that we face is one unlike any we have experienced before, and we apologize to our fans,” outgoing chairman Musashigawa said.

But many sumo watchers say the latest scandal merely underscores a close relationship sumo has had with the yakuza for decades, a relationship they say is likely to continue.

“Sumo is involved in organized crime because they’ve had a symbiotic relationship for years,” said Jake Adelstein, a former crime beat reporter for a Japanese newspaper and author of the best-selling book “Tokyo Vice.” “The wrestlers and the yakuza have a macho admiration for each other. The yakuza by being seen with the sumo wrestlers, acquire `status’ and the sumo wrestlers get money, booze, food, and women.”

Adelstein said smaller training stables don’t have big corporate sponsors and need the money the yakuza offer. “The average salary of a sumo wrestler is a pittance and they need the cash,” he said, adding that once a wrestler is beholden to the mob he is vulnerable to demands to throw bouts — which the gangsters bet on — to clear his debts.

Police anger and TV’s decision to pull the plug go back to an incident last year, when 55 gangsters from the notorious Yamaguchi-gumi syndicate took front row seats at a tournament to bolster the spirits of their comrades in prison.

The gangsters were clearly visible on the live TV broadcasts, one of the few shows inmates are allowed to watch in jail.

The incident led to punishment for two sumo elders, but no criminal charges.

But by that time sumo was already grappling with the expulsion of several top wrestlers — including two Russians — for marijuana possession and the conviction last December of a coach and his proteges for hazing a 17-year-old wrestler so harshly that he died.

And sumo’s woes didn’t stop there.

Earlier this year, Mongolian grand champion Asashoryu quit the sport in disgrace after a drunken brawl outside a nightclub. As the holder of sumo’s highest rank, Asashoryu’s behavior was seen by many as evidence of how low the sport’s moral standards had fallen.

The scrutiny over the scandals has also put the spotlight on the ancient sport’s troubles adjusting to Japan’s modern realities.

Though sumo is still popular, NHK is the only major TV network that still airs the six annual tournaments. Commercial networks pulled them years ago as ratings slid and the sumo authorities requested more money for broadcasting rights.

Today, baseball, soccer and golf more often than not precede sumo on TV newscasts. Sumo audiences are usually made up mostly of middle-age or older fans, further evidence the sport is losing its appeal to young Japanese viewers.

Getting youngsters to actually join up is more difficult still.

Because of the rigors of the sumo lifestyle — which often starts in a boy’s early teens with a live-in apprenticeship at Spartan training stables — fewer Japanese are willing to go pro. That vacuum has been filled by wrestlers from abroad, who now make up most of the top echelon.

Only one wrestler with the second-highest rank is Japanese. At 37, he is likely to retire soon.

The sport’s reigning grand champion, a Mongolian named Hakuho — who is not implicated in any wrongdoing — slammed the association’s handling of the scandal and particularly its decision to withhold trophies for the winner, which will likely be him.

But fans were more worried about sumo’s future.

“I don’t think there is any way to deny that the Japanese don’t support sumo as much as they used to,” said Toru Ishii, a fan who came at 8 a.m. to watch the younger wrestlers’ matches. “We grew up with sumo, but young people today hardly ever do sumo. We have high standards for sumo wrestlers. This is all very sad.”

NEW YORK – He was baseball’s bombastic Boss. He rebuilt the New York Yankees dynasty, ushering in the era of multimillion-dollar salaries and accepting nothing less in return than World Series championships. He fired managers. Rehired them. And fired them again.

He butted heads with commissioners and fellow owners, insulted his players and dominated tabloid headlines — even upstaging the All-Star game on the day of his death.

George Michael Steinbrenner III, who both inspired and terrorized the Yankees in more than three decades as owner, died Tuesday of a heart attack at age 80.

“He was and always will be as much of a New York Yankee as Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, Joe DiMaggio, Mickey Mantle, Yogi Berra, Whitey Ford and all of the other Yankee legends,” baseball commissioner Bud Selig said.

Once reviled by fans for his overbearing and tempestuous nature, Steinbrenner mellowed in his final decade and became beloved by employees and rivals alike for his success.

Steinbrenner was taken from his home to St. Joseph’s Hospital in Tampa, Fla., and died about 6:30 a.m, a person close to the owner told The Associated Press. The person spoke on condition of anonymity because the team had not disclosed those details.

“George was a fierce competitor who was the perfect fit for the city that never sleeps — colorful, dynamic and always reaching for the stars,” former President Bill Clinton said.

Yankees captain Derek Jeter added: “He expected perfection.”

In 37 1/2 years as owner, Steinbrenner whipped a moribund $10 million team into a $1.6 billion colossus that became the model of a modern franchise, one with its own TV network and ballpark food business.

Under his often brutal but always colorful reign, the Yankees won seven World Series championships, 11 American League pennants and 16 AL East titles, going on spectacular spending sprees that caused Larry Lucchino, president of the rival Boston Red Sox, to dub Steinbrenner’s Yankees the “Evil Empire.”

He moved the Yankees from their tradition-rich “House that Ruth Built” into a new $1.5 billion Yankee Stadium. Call it the “House the Boss Built.” He appeared there just four times: the April 2009 opener, the first two games of last year’s World Series and this year’s home opener, when Jeter and manager Joe Girardi went to his suite and personally delivered his seventh World Series ring.

“He was very emotional,” son Hal Steinbrenner said then.

Steinbrenner’s larger-than-life outbursts transcended sports and made him a pop culture figure whose firings were parodied on the TV comedy “Seinfeld” and even by Steinbrenner himself in commercials.

“George was The Boss, make no mistake,” said Berra, the Hall of Famer who ended a 14-year feud with Steinbrenner in 1999. “He built the Yankees into champions, and that’s something nobody can ever deny. He was a very generous, caring, passionate man. George and I had our differences, but who didn’t? We became great friends over the last decade and I will miss him very much.”

Steinbrenner’s death, about 14 hours before the first pitch of the All-Star game in Anaheim, Calif., was the second in three days to rock the Yankees. Bob Sheppard, the team’s revered public address announcer from 1951-07, died Sunday at 99.

A video tribute was shown and players bowed their heads during a moment of silence before the national anthem was played at Angel Stadium. Jeter and the Yankees wore black armbands, and the U.S., Canadian and California flags were lowered to half-staff.

New York was 11 years removed from its last championship when Steinbrenner, then an obscure son of an Ohio shipbuilder, headed a group that bought the team from CBS Inc. on Jan. 3, 1973, for about $8.7 million net.

Forbes now values the Yankees at $1.6 billion, trailing only Manchester United ($1.8 billion) and the Dallas Cowboys ($1.65 billion).

Former commissioner Fay Vincent, who fought many battles with Steinbrenner, said his legacy would be turning the Yankees “into an absolute gold mine and a monster of power and success in baseball.”

“He was one of the few who realized this was an iconic franchise, and he could turn it into something really special, and he did,” Vincent said.

Steinbrenner ruled with obsessive dedication to detail — from trades to the airblowers that kept his ballparks spotless. When he thought the club’s parking lot was too crowded, Steinbrenner stood on the pavement — albeit behind a van, out of sight — and had a guard check every driver’s credential.

But he also tried to make up for his temper with good deeds and often-unpublicized charitable donations.

His rule was interrupted by two lengthy suspensions, including a 15-month ban in 1974 after pleading guilty to conspiring to make illegal contributions to the re-election campaign of President Richard Nixon. Steinbrenner was fined $15,000 and later pardoned by President Ronald Reagan.

He also was banned for 2 1/2 years for paying self-described gambler Howie Spira to obtain negative information on outfielder Dave Winfield, with whom Steinbrenner was feuding.

Through it all, Steinbrenner lived up to his billing as “The Boss,” a nickname he clearly enjoyed as he ruled with an iron fist. While he lived in Florida in his later years, he was a staple on the front pages of New York newspapers with his tirades.

Steinbrenner was in fragile health for the past 6 1/2 years, resulting in fewer public appearances and pronouncements. He fainted at a memorial service for NFL great Otto Graham in December 2003, appeared weak in August 2006 when he spoke briefly at the groundbreaking for the new stadium, and became ill while watching his granddaughter in a college play in North Carolina that October. At this year’s spring training, he used a wheelchair and needed aides to hold him during the national anthem.

As his health declined, Steinbrenner let sons Hal and Hank run more of the family business. He turned over formal control of the Yankees to Hal in November 2008.

Dressed in his trademark navy blue blazer and white turtleneck, however, he was the model of success.

“He was truly the most influential and innovative owner in all of sports,” former New York Mayor Rudy Giuliani said. “He made the Yankees a source of great pride in being a New Yorker.”

Until his dying day, Steinbrenner demanded championships. He barbed Joe Torre during the 2007 AL playoffs, then let the popular manager leave after 12 seasons because of another loss in the opening round. The team responded last year by winning his final title.

“I will always remember George Steinbrenner as a passionate man, a tough boss, a true visionary, a great humanitarian, and a dear friend,” Torre said. “It’s only fitting that he went out as a world champ.”

New York City Mayor Michael Bloomberg ordered flags to half-staff at City Hall Plaza.

“Few people have had a bigger impact on New York over the past four decades than George Steinbrenner,” Bloomberg said. “George had a deep love for New York, and his steely determination to succeed, combined with his deep respect and appreciation for talent and hard work made him a quintessential New Yorker.”

When the former Big Ten football coach bought the team, he famously promised a hands-off operation.

“We’re not going to pretend we’re something we aren’t,” he said. “I’ll stick to building ships.”

It hardly turned out that way.

He changed managers 21 times and got rid of about a dozen general managers. When a Yankees public relations man went home to Ohio for the Christmas holiday, then returned in a hurry for a news conference to announce David Cone’s re-signing, Steinbrenner fired him.

“There is nothing quite so limited as being a limited partner of George Steinbrenner’s,” said John McMullen, one of his associates.

Steinbrenner hired Billy Martin in 1975, 1979, 1983, 1985 and 1987, firing him four times and letting him resign once as the two battled over substance and personality.

Martin disparaged outfielder Reggie Jackson and Steinbrenner by saying: “The two of them deserve each other — one’s a born liar, the other’s convicted.”

After Steinbrenner dismissed Berra as manager 16 games into the 1985 season, the 10-time World Series champion vowed he wouldn’t go to back to Yankee Stadium for a game until Steinbrenner apologized — which he did 14 years later.

In 1985, Steinbrenner derided future Hall of Famer Winfield as “Mr. May” for poor performance — comparing him negatively to Jackson, whose nickname was “Mr. October.” He also once called pitcher Hideki Irabu a fat toad.

Players sometimes responded with their own insults. One night in 1982, reliever Goose Gossage let loose and called Steinbrenner “the fat man.”

Steinbrenner made no apologies for his bombast, even when it cost him.

“I haven’t always done a good job, and I haven’t always been successful,” Steinbrenner said in 2005. “But I know that I have tried.”

Still, Steinbrenner could poke fun at himself. He hosted “Saturday Night Live,” clowned with Martin in a beer commercial and chuckled at his impersonation on “Seinfeld.”

Steinbrenner spent freely on the likes of Jeter, Jackson, Alex Rodriguez, Jason Giambi, CC Sabathia and others in hopes of more titles.

“Winning is the most important thing in my life, after breathing,” Steinbrenner was fond of saying. “Breathing first, winning next.”

He kept a sign on his desk that read: “Lead, follow, or get the hell out of the way.”

All along, he envisioned himself as a true Yankee Doodle Dandy — born on the Fourth of July in 1930.

Steinbrenner liked to quote military figures and saw games as an extension of war. In the tunnel leading from the Yankees’ clubhouse to the field in the old stadium, he had a sign posted with a saying from Gen. Douglas MacArthur: “There is no substitute for victory.”

He joined the likes of Al Davis, Charlie O. Finley, Bill Veeck, George Halas, Jack Kent Cooke and Jerry Jones as the most recognized team owners. But Steinbrenner’s sports interests extended beyond baseball.

He was an assistant football coach at Northwestern and Purdue in the 1950s and was part of the group that bought the Cleveland Pipers of the American Basketball League in the 1960s.

He was a vice president of the U.S. Olympic Committee from 1989-96 and entered six horses in the Kentucky Derby, failing to win with Steve’s Friend (1977), Eternal Prince (1985), Diligence (1996), Concerto (1997), Blue Burner (2002) and the 2005 favorite, Bellamy Road.

To many, the Yankees and Steinbrenner were synonymous. His fans applauded his win-at-all-costs style; his detractors blamed him for wrecking baseball’s competitive balance with spiraling salaries.

Steinbrenner negotiated a landmark $486 million, 12-year cable TV contract with the Madison Square Garden Network in 1988 and launched the Yankees’ own YES Network for the 2002 season.

The Yankees later became the first team with a $200 million payroll, provoking anger and envy among other owners. When the Yankees signed Steve Kemp after the 1982 season, Baltimore owner Edward Bennett Williams said Steinbrenner stockpiled outfielders “like nuclear weapons.”

There was no denying the results. When Steinbrenner bought the Yankees, they had gone eight seasons without finishing in first place, their longest drought since Ruth & Co. won the team’s first pennant in 1921.

“George has been a very charismatic, controversial owner,” Selig said in 2005. “But look, he did what he set out to do — he restored the New York Yankees franchise.”

Former AL president Gene Budig sometimes was on the wrong end of Steinbrenner’s barbs. After he left office, Budig maintained a friendship with him and even promoted Steinbrenner for the Hall of Fame.

Steinbrenner also had a soft side. He sometimes read about high school athletes who had been injured and sent them money to go to college. He paid for the medical school expenses of Ron Karnaugh after the swimmer’s father died during the opening ceremony at the 1992 Barcelona Olympics.

Steinbrenner had a way of rehiring those he had once fired and liked to give second chances to those who had fallen from favor, such as Darryl Strawberry and Dwight Gooden.

“I’m really 95 percent Mr. Rogers,” Steinbrenner said as he approached his 75th birthday, “and only 5 percent Oscar the Grouch.”

While Steinbrenner grew up in the Cleveland area as a Yankees fan, his first passion was football. He fondly recalled watching the Browns on winter days, and many believe the NFL’s must-win-today mentality shaped how he approached all sports.

Steinbrenner was raised in a strict, no-nonsense household headed by his father, Henry. The oldest of three children, Steinbrenner attended Culver Military Academy in Indiana. At Williams College, he ran track, specializing in hurdles. After that, he enlisted in the Air Force.

Following his discharge, he enrolled at Ohio State, pursuing a master’s degree in physical education. It was his intention to go into coaching, but after working at a high school in Columbus and at Purdue and Northwestern, he turned to the business world.

In 1963, Steinbrenner purchased Kinsman Transit Co., a fleet of lake ore carriers, from his family and built a thriving company. Four years later, Steinbrenner and associates took over American Ship Building and revitalized the company.

It was in Cleveland that Steinbrenner met baseball executive Gabe Paul and became involved with the group that bought the Yankees. With 13 partners, Steinbrenner purchased the team from CBS.

“When you’re a shipbuilder, nobody pays any attention to you,” he said. “But when you own the New York Yankees … they do, and I love it.”

With that, the Bronx Zoo days began. It was while he was under suspension that the Yankees ushered in baseball’s free-agent era by signing Catfish Hunter to a $3.75 million contract. Even though he officially was barred from participating in the daily operation of the team, no one believed Steinbrenner was uninvolved in the deal.

For the first five years of free agency, Steinbrenner signed 10 players for about $38 million. Steinbrenner’s $18 million, 10-year deal with Winfield was the richest free agent contract in history at the time.

During those days, Yankee Stadium underwent a $100 million facelift and reopened in 1976. That year, the Yankees won the AL pennant, but got swept in the World Series by Cincinnati’s Big Red Machine. The Yankees surged back to win the World Series in 1977 and 1978 and the pennant in 1981.

Forbes magazine has estimated Steinbrenner’s estate at $1.1 billion. By dying in 2010 — during a yearlong gap in the estate tax — his heirs could realize an unexpected bonanza, depending on how his holdings were structured.

In addition to his sons, Steinbrenner is survived by his wife, Joan, daughters Jennifer and Jessica and 13 grandchildren. A private funeral was expected to be held this week, followed by a public memorial.

He never expected to die this way.

“I don’t have heart attacks,” he once said. “I give them.”