
Jerry West died Wednesday at age 86.
And it was never more apropos to say “Rest in peace” than it was about such a legendary sports figure so celebrated and revered, yet so anguished by a handful of failures mere mortals would consider accomplishments.
On October 13, West was scheduled to be inducted into the Naismith Basketball of Fame for the third time.
He’d previously been inducted in 1980 for a 14-year NBA career from 1960 to 1974 with the Los Angeles Lakers in which he was an All-Star selection every season he played as well as a 12-time All-NBA honoree. As a lightning-quick guard, his stop-and-pop jumper interspersed with fearless drives produced career scoring averages of 27 points and 29.1 points in the regular season and playoffs respectively still ranking eighth and fifth.
He’s just one of three players ever to win NBA Finals MVP honors (and the only Finals MVP on the losing team), Final Four MVP honors as an All-American guard at West Virginia, and an Olympic gold medal for the 1960 U.S.A, team which was inducted into the Hall of Fame in 2010.
His third Hall honor as a contributor to the sport stems from his 18 seasons from 1982 to 2000 as general manager of the Lakers when the franchise won eight NBA titles.He put together the Kobe Bryant-Shaquille O’Neal-Phil Jackson marriage), got burned out and became a consultant for the franchise before his stunning move to become GM from 2002 to 2007 of the brand-new Memphis Grizzlies which he quickly built into a playoff team.
That’s where during my almost 30-year writing career in Memphis I got an inside look at the man whose image as a player became the model for the NBA logo, hence West being nicknamed “The Logo.”
West’s competitive fire, long after his playing days and after his GM stint with the Lakers, never quit burning. As a consultant, he couldn’t stay idle playing golf and collecting paychecks.
“I wasn’t called very much as a consultant and I felt I was taking somebody’s money for nothing,” West told me. “I got bored with living the good life with no stress or pressure. When I studied the situation in Memphis, it was the ultimate challenge for me.
“I don’t think men are worth a damn unless you have a challenge in your life. Many people in basketball told me, `What in the hell you are doing. . .Memphis. . .of all places to go?’”
West was 53 years old when he became the Grizzlies’ GM. Anybody around him daily quickly learned the internal scars West incurred as a player continually haunted him.
“I’m not proud I played in nine NBA Finals and won only one of them,” West told me. “The most painful moments in my life occurred in some of my very best moments as a player. . .to not win titles a couple of times when we had the best teams is the thing that’s driven me all my life.”
West coached the Lakers for three seasons after retirement. They were a playoff team each year, but losing games engulfed his soul.
When he finally became a general manager and felt he had similar control he enjoyed as a player, it was somewhat more soothing but not much.
As a GM, he rarely watched a game in person, especially in the playoffs. It was just too much torture.
At first, he walked the halls in the belly of the arenas where the game was played, listening to the crowd and occasionally peeking out a tunnel to the court to check the scoreboard.’Then, eventually, he would drive around the Los Angeles freeways during games. He wouldn’t even listen to radio broadcasts. He’d call his secretary for score updates.
In the Grizzlies’ first home playoff game in history at the end of the 2003-04 season, he never showed up in his private box full of guests to watch one minute of the game. He repeated that over and over.
In public, he often measured his words.
In private, not so much.
A lot of my one-on-one interview sessions with West went like this:
With my pen in hand, notepad in sight and tape recorder rolling, he would give searingly non-stop honest opinions and assessments that today would have made me the tweet king of the universe. The social media reaction would be like daily meteor strikes. But immediately after spewing forth some of the greatest quotes I’ve ever heard, West would look at me with soulless eyes and snarl, “If you ever use any of that in a story, I will (insert the most imaginable threatening cuss word here) kill you.”
Then he’d pause.
And then I’d wait for him to laugh to let me know he was kidding.
And then he’d never laugh.
Rest in peace, Logo.
Seriously.
I’m not laughing about this.
Contact Ron at ronhigginsmedia@gmail.com