More from The Q&A: Buzz Bissinger
Buzz Bissinger spent time recently with one of the sports world’s most sought after personalities.
So, what did the author learn during his time with LeBron James?
Much of it is in a new book that the two men co-authored, “Shooting Stars,” and Bissinger talked about some of it in The Q&A. But there was plenty that Bissinger learned about one of the most popular, most talked about athletes on the planet.
Jenni Carlson: Was there anything about LeBron that surprised you?
Buzz Bissinger: I think some of his memories are very painful and at this point in his life, he doesn’t want to go into detail. I knew that he had been born to a mom who was 16 years old. I knew he was fatherless. I knew he was an only child. I didn’t know how hard it was in terms of all the moves they had to make. I didn’t know that the first home he lived in, which was a beautiful home at one point, became so dilapidated that the City of Akron condemned it. I did not know that when he was 8 he had a wonderful football coach, Frankie Walker, who basically went to LeBron’s mom — and she loved LeBron to death — and he said, “Gloria, you’re having problems. You need to get your act together, and I’m sympathetic to that. But you have a son who’s acting like an adult. He’s unhappy. He seems really stressed. Why don’t you let us take him in for a year until you get your head straight. You can visit him whenever you want.” It was the first time in his life that LeBron had a sense of family. It was the first time he had responsibilities. It was the first time he had chores. The key to LeBron, he hates being alone. He hates being alone because he spent the formative years of his life until he was 8 being alone, switching from school to school, bouncing from place to place, not really knowing where he was going to live next. The Walkers really saved him, and then, he met this wonderful coach, Dru Joyce. Then when he was 8 or 9, he met these four kids who became blood brothers. They made a pact to stay together. I didn’t know much about that at all. I didn’t know just how inseparable they were.
JC: Several things you’ve authored have been turned into movies. Does “Shooting Stars” have movie potential?
BB: You never know in the world of movies. I’ve dealt in the world of movies pretty extensively, and you never quite know what’s going to turn them on. “Friday Night Lights” took 14 years to be made, and some people said, “Hey, you’re lucky. Some movies take 25 years to get made.” This certainly is a story ultimately of great beauty and poetry and inspiration. I think it’s got great characters in the kids, including LeBron. I think it has a tremendous role model in coach Dru Joyce, who is really exceptional as a coach and exceptional as a man. I can see this laying out as a beautiful film. Now, whether Hollywood thinks that … who the heck knows what they’re thinking?
JC: Since we’ve come back around to “Friday Night Lights,” I have to ask if you’re a regular watcher of the TV show.
BB: No, I don’t watch it regularly. When I’ve seen it, I think it’s terrific. I probably don’t watch it because I’m “Friday Night Light”ed out. I get close to 10 to 15 e-mails or letters about it a month.
JC: Really?
BB: Yeah. This is almost 20 years later. At a certain point you almost want to scream out … “I actually have written other things in my life.” So, I don’t watch the show regularly, but when I have seen it, I’ve been really, really impressed with it. I really have no input into it. I met with the writers very early, and it was clear they had a great vision of what they were doing and they didn’t need me to hang around to tell them what to do.
JC: Despite being “Friday Night Light”ed out, you still keep up with some of those players. That has to be cool.
BB: I actually recently went down to Odessa with my son Zach, and we went to the 20threunion of the class that I wrote about. And it was great. They’ve forgiven me in Odessa. They no longer want to kill me. I’m very close to Brian Chavez and his family. I’m very close to Boobie. Don Billingsley was there. I love these kids. They will always be kids to me. It’s hard to believe they’re close to 40 now, but they’re a wonderful part of my life. Any book where the relationships extend beyond the book, it’s just a great, great payoff.
JC: Do you ever marvel at the access you had at Odessa Permian when you wrote that book?
BB: Not really because … I wrote that book in another era, the late ‘80s where access was easier to get. Today, the first question somebody would raise about access is, “What’s in it for me? How much are you going to pay me?” It’s almost this American Idol syndrome; everyone wants something. High school football, there was more innocence to it then. It’s become much bigger of a deal now — I may have sort of helped to start that in some ways — so it wasn’t that hard to get. This also was a team that was used to access. This was a team that was used to having a lot of publicity, and I think I got (access) because of the level of commitment I was willing to make, which was to move down there for a year and live there with my family.
JC: With what you’ve written about sports, are you a fan? And did any of this make you less of one?
BB: I always was a huge fan of sports growing up. I grew up in New York City with a lot of professional teams. Believe it or not, we had season tickets to both the Jets and the Giants. My father went to Dartmouth, so we would fly up for the Dartmouth-Harvard game, fly back to LaGuardia, get something to eat, go to the Jets game that Saturday night, then go to the Giants game on Sunday.
JC: That’s the life right there.
BB: It was a good life, actually. So, I was a huge fan of sports. I wrote about sports in high school and college. At The Pennsylvanian at the University of Pennsylvania, I was sports editor. Then, I sort of got tired of dealing with even college athletes and switched to news. I did lots of things, did a lot of investigative reporting and covered politics. I don’t perceive “Friday Night Lights” as a sports book. I perceive it as a book about sports and about the sociology of sports. “Three Nights in August” was a sports book, and “Shooting Stars” is a sports book. I think what happens is you gain a reputation of doing something well, and then other people come to you and say, “What do you think about doing this?” My second book, which I think was my best book, which was about urban politics in big-city urban America … of course sold the least. There’s just something about our culture.
My next book is not sports-related at all. I don’t really see it as a memoir, but it’s a book about my twin sons who’ve grown up in very, very different ways and circumstances because of their prematurity at birth. Gerry turned out by some miracle to be perfect and normal and has a thriving life, and Zach tragically had some trace brain damage. He’s a wonderful man, but his life is just going to be very, very different. He’s never going to live independently, never marry, never drive a car. So it is told from a father’s perspective of dealing with these twins who are kind of inverted mirrors of one another, and that’s a totally different book. I think I want to do it because it’s an important story. I think it’s a story that parents can relate to because all of our children are different. It’s just something that I really want to write, and I’m challenged by it.
JC: You’ve written about a lot of controversial subjects, tough subjects, but is writing about yourself more difficult?
BB: It’s probably been the most challenging thing I’ve done. You’re writing about your own flesh and blood, how much you should put in and how much you should not. I’ve talked to Zach about it, but he really doesn’t understand. It’s fine for me to say, “Hey, Zach, how would you feel if I wrote a book about you,” and he says, “That’s great.” But he doesn’t really know what that means. I feel for any book to work it has to be honest, and there are tremendous highs being with a son like Zach, who has severe disabilities, and it’s also very hard as a father. I love him to death, but I’ve never had a real conversation with him and I probably never will. He will be the same 10 years from now as he is now. That’s hard for a dad. On the other hand, I’ve never see anyone who has made more use of the skills he has to be part of life. He is, in that way, incredibly inspirational. He’s a wonder in many ways, but there is a lot of heartache.
JC: He’s got his own story to tell.
BB: But he doesn’t have protection. He could read it and say, “Oh, that’s great,” but never say, “Gee, Dad, I think you went overboard here.” Now, his brother knows and his mother knows, so there will be people who read it and try to act as his protectors. But it’s got to be honest. If it’s not honest, it won’t work.
Chat recap: Sept. 10
Where are the MMA and UFC fans?
We want to hear from you. We are looking for folks who are big fans of mixed martial arts. With the Ultimate Fighting Championship coming to town next week, we want to hear from folks who can’t get enough of the craze that is sweeping the nation.
Why do you love the sport?
Are you a super fan of MMA?
Oklahoma City is one of the hotbeds for television viewers of all things related to MMA and UFC, so we know you’re out there, fans. Let us hear from you.
E-mail me at jcarlson@opubco.com or sportsdesk@oklahoman.com.
An athlete who really is larger than life
I thought Dick Hoyt would be taller.
Truth is, there was no way he could be as big in real life as he was in my head. It’s impossible, after all, for someone to be larger than life.
Hoyt is the man profiled Sunday. He is the 69-year-old father of a 47-year-old wheelchair-bound son, and together, they have finished over a thousand athletic events. Road races. Half marathons. Marathons. Even triathlons.
It is truly an inspirational story.
And Tuesday evening, Hoyt told it to a packed auditorium at the National Cowboy & Western Heritage Museum. He was the featured speaker at the City Rescue Mission’s Mission of Hope Banquet.
Few made it through his entire presentation without shedding at least a few tears.
But there were plenty of laughs, too. Hoyt told the story of Rick’s birth, about how his son’s umbilical cord became wrapped around his neck, cutting off his oxygen and leaving him with cerebral palsy. When doctors examined Rick a few months later, they had some devastating words for the Hoyts.
“Put him in an institution,” doctors told them. “He’s going to be nothing but a vegetable for the rest of his life.”
Hoyt paused as he told the story Tuesday night.
“We still haven’t figured out what kind of vegetable he is,” he said.
Hoyt’s message is very strong, very powerful, but what struck me as he talked Tuesday was how human he is. Yes, he’s done something amazing. Sure, he’s physically doing at 69 years old what few of us can imagine. But what he’s done hasn’t been because he’s so big or so tall. He isn’t super-human.
Dick Hoyt is just a normal guy who set his mind and his heart on something amazing, then he did what it took to make it happen.
That makes him super human.
And despite his average stature, that makes him larger than life.
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More from The Q&A: Andy Coats
Andy Coats changed college football.
One of the lead attorneys in a 1982 lawsuit against the NCAA, Coats helped Oklahoma and Georgia win the anti-trust case that allowed college football teams to do their own television deals. Prior to that, the NCAA had complete control. It limited the games. It controlled the exposure.
The Supreme Court didn’t agree with that.
Once the courts opened the way for teams and conferences to negotiate their own TV deals, it started college football down a path of great chance. TV increased the exposure, which increased the revenues, and in turn, schools built bigger and better facilities. They paid coaches more. They charged fans more, too.
For better or worse, the game changed.
But before all that happened, someone had to take on the NCAA.
Jenni Carlson: Did they have to twist your arm? You’ve said in the past, after all, that fighting the NCAA is like fighting the IRS. No one wants to do it.
Andy Coats: We had done it once before. There was a guy named Kerry Jackson who was a quarterback at Oklahoma. Switzer had asked me to represent Kerry Jackson in a lawsuit against the NCAA over his eligibility, and so we were getting ready to do that. Kerry Jackson hurt his arm and couldn’t play anyway, so we didn’t go ahead with that case. And then the firm had brought a lawsuit against the NCAA earlier and lost in the Supreme Court of Oklahoma. I can’t remember what the issue was, but we’d been there a couple times anyway. But it was exciting and a challenge legally. I thought after we looked at he law a little bit we were in very, very good shape on the question of the anti-trust violation. The NCAA usurped that. They didn’t even vote. They just took it over and ran it for all those years.
JC: Did you play football as a kid?
AC: I played some in high school. I got into a car wreck and got my face banged up and had to quit playing contact sports for a couple years. I played golf instead.
JC: At least you picked a sport you could play for years.
AC: Absolutely, and besides that, I need the money. (Laughs.)
Griffin video worth a football diversion
All right, all right, I know it’s football season. I’m as jazzed about it as anyone. So, you’d better believe I wouldn’t bring this up if it wasn’t really good.
Oklahoma City native and Los Angeles Clipper rookie Blake Griffin recently sat down the Peter Mehlman. I know little about Mehlman, but apparently, he has serious sway with athletes. In the past few months, he’s interviewed everyone from Kobe Bryant to Danica Patrick to Tony Hawk on his “Narrow World of Sports” feature.
None of the interviews, though, could be any funnier than the interview with Big Blake.
Here’s a sample:
Mehlman: I’m here with a recent arrival to Los Angeles, Blake Griffin. You’ve been in L.A. about a month now?
Griffin: A little over a month.
Mehlman: How long do you think it will take you before you completely sell out everything you ever believed in.
Griffin: Probably completely by Christmastime.
Check it out. It’s worth the 4 minutes, 28 seconds.
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