Heisley would’ve enjoyed Saturday
Mike Heisley would have loved to be in Memphis Saturday night. He would have loved every moment of what is happening in this city he forever changed.
He would have loved watching Tony Allen do Tony Allen things. If Heisley had been a basketball player, he might have been Allen, all inyour-face relentlessness.
He would have loved Mike Conley turning into an elite point guard. Because at least something came from all those blasted trips to the lottery. Heisley hated the lottery. He hated putting his fate in the hands of ping-pong balls. But, look, the lottery gave the Grizzlies Conley. Heisley would have taken immense pleasure in that.
Heisley would have loved Mike Miller, the prodigal shooter. He would have loved Marc Gasol, the kid brother of his first-ever draft pick. He would have loved Zach Randolph, with whom he shared a certain take-no-prisoners code.
But more than all that, he would have loved the passion and fury of the Grindhouse.
The Grindhouse wouldn’t have existed without Heisley’s decision to move a basketball team to Memphis. The Grindhouse would have made Heisley happier than anything.
Not just the passion, and the raucous music, and the growl towels held aloft. The people holding those growl towels aloft. Memphians, of every stripe.
“The Grindhouse is proof it worked,” said Andy Dolich, who was president of business operations for most of Heisley’s tenure in Memphis. “It’s a whole city, coming together, because of the draw of sports.”
Heisley died Saturday at age 77. He had been debilitated by a massive stroke 15 months ago. NBA Commissioner Adam Silver opened his press conference in Memphis by offering condolences to Heisley’s family. Then Silver spent the rest of the time talking about another NBA owner, Donald Sterling, who is under fire for racist remarks he allegedly made on a tape that has been released by TMZ.com.
“It is ironic that this happened on a day when everyone is talking about something so far from what Mike believed in,” Dolich said. “If there’s a positive, it’s that everything that has happened in Memphis — from the players, to the community, to the MLK game, to the legacy awards — is the exact opposite of these reprehensible comments. Mike and everyone else in the city who was involved in bringing the Grizzlies to
Memphis believed in the unifying power of sports.”
This is not just a cliché, at least as it pertains to the Grizzlies. It is why the Memphis NBA franchise exists. A small group of Memphians decided the city needed an NBA team to rally around. Don’t laugh. It’s 100-percent true.
So the Pursuit Team — that’s what the Memphians called themselves — wooed Heisley to Memphis. And the rest was, OK, not as smooth as it could have been. No use fibbing about it, just because Heisley is gone. The Memphians and the Chicago guy did not always get along.
Nor was Heisley a perfect owner. Remember when he tried to sell the team to Christian Laettner and Brian Davis? Remember when he foisted Allen Iverson on his head coach? Heisley had a temper and a scorched-earth lawyer named Stan Meadows, and that did not always go over well.
But without him, there would be no Memphis Grizzlies. This city needed him. It needed his deep pockets, when the team ran annual deficits. It needed his stubbornness
without (Michael Heisley), there would be no Memphis Grizzlies. This city needed him. It needed his deep pockets, when the team ran annual deficits. It needed his stubbornness — and his lawyer — to get FedExForum built.
— and his lawyer — to get FedExForum built. And for all the mistakes Heisley made on the basketball side of things, he is the one who hired Chris Wallace, hired Lionel Hollins, traded for Randolph and Gasol and Allen, drafted Conley, and ultimately presided over the construction of this Grizzlies team.
He loved it, too. He loved owning an NBA franchise. After he sold the Grizzlies, he quickly regretted it, and started looking for another team to buy. It wasn’t just the game Heisley missed, either, though he did miss the game. He missed the people. He missed the players. He missed the interaction with the fans.
Heisley was richer than you, but he didn’t think he was better than you. He’d joyfully talk to — or butt heads with — anyone at all. It used to tick him off when people would mock an NBA player for having a posse. He had one, too, he said. It comes with money. It comes with responsibility. But if you’re a white billionaire, he said, nobody rolls their eyes.
So, yes, Heisley would have loved to have been there Saturday night, with Memphians of all kinds. He would have waved his growl towel, and he would have cursed the refs, and he would have looked at the unruly horde of fans — black and white, old and young, male and female — and he would have known that he had done a very good thing.
It was wistful, honoring him with that moment of silence. Silence was never what Heisley was all about. He was as loud, as boisterous and as full of life as Saturday evening in the Grindhouse. And like the team he leaves behind, he did not bluff. To reach Geoff Calkins, call 901-529-2364 or email calkins@ commercialappeal.com.