As promised, what follows is blog #2 on Glenn “Doc” Rivers (for those who are on this site for the first time, or those of you who haven’t been around for a while, yesterday’s post was the first of two blogs on Doc). It explained how he got on my “Fertig Notes” mailing list. If you’re interested, check it out.
My goal had always been to be a head basketball coach at a Division I university. One of several reasons I started the mailing list – which consisted of one book summary each month for about 10 years – was to stay in touch with people who might be helpful in achieving my goal. Doc had been a color commentator when he landed the head coaching gig with the Orlando Magic, one of several commentators-with-no-head-coaching-experience-turned-head coaches (Pat Riley, Tom Heinsohn, Doug Collins). In order to supplement my income, Tark allowed me to be the color commentator for Fresno State’s televised games (the ones that weren’t on network TV or ESPN). While the previously mentioned commentators became NBA coaches, and I wanted to be a college head coach, I felt having somebody from that group would be a great reference – especially to the new breed of athletics directors, i.e. bottom line fund raising types as opposed to former coaches.
Since Doc had asked to be on my mailing list, he knew who I was. I wanted to meet him, chat it up a little and ask if I could use him as a reference. My “in” was the Magic’s first, and only, play-by-play man, David Steele, one of the first four employees of the expansion Orlando franchise. David was the sports anchor at WLOS-TV in Asheville, NC when I was an assistant coach at Western Carolina University in the late ’70s and we connected immediately. After I left for a similar position at the University of Tennessee, David became the “voice of the WCU Catamounts.” A few years later, David also “moved up” in the business, becoming the “voice of the Florida Gators.”
One of the SEC teams I scouted was UF (this was a period when off-campus scouting was permissible by the NCAA). It seemed like at least twice a year I’d be in Gainesville to scout either Florida or their opponent who, coincidentally, happened to be one of my scouting assignments. On each occasion David would have me as a guest on his pregame radio show. I called him and asked if he could set up a meeting with the Magic’s head man. He came through like a champ and I booked a flight from Fresno to Orlando for a dinner engagement with Doc.
After a tour of the Magic’s facility with David (who was treated like royalty because he’d been there from the franchise’s inception – sort of a “founding father” image), I showed up for dinner with Doc. Naturally, I got to the restaurant early. The reservations were in Doc’s name (since it would be easier for me to recognize him than the other way around). Shortly after I arrived, Doc’s wife, Chris, and his agent (whose name I can’t recall) showed up, apologizing that Doc would be a little late because he played in a charity golf tournament. About 15 minutes later, still in golfing attire, Doc walked in and apologized for being late. I got up and walked out!
No I didn’t. I might be crazy but I’m not stupid. I told him no problem, that I’d enjoyed speaking with Chris and his agent and appreciated his taking time to meet with me. The four of us were outdoors at the restaurant, having a pre-dinner cocktail and making small talk, when the maitre d’ came out to let us know our table was ready. As she got up, Chris, unintentionally of course, knocked her drink over. It spilled in Doc’s lap.
She began to apologize profusely when Doc said, “That’s OK. No problem,” as he picked up a napkin wiping his shirt and pants. It was his immediate reaction that absolutely astounded me. Maybe you had to be there to actually witness it, or maybe you run with a different crowd, but the first impulse of nearly everyone I know would have been to say something profane – at the very least, be annoyed – not necessarily at the person who spilled the drink (especially because it was the spouse), just at the situation of having to “wear” an alcoholic drink. Throughout dinner. Yet, his initial response was, no worries, everything’s fine.
This past Monday I watched the Clippers’ training camp. Near the end of the workout, at a break in the action, Doc came over to greet those of us in attendance. When he got to me, I reintroduced myself to him (he remembered the Notes) and told him of that encounter over 15 years ago. The comment I made to him was how shocked I was at his attitude at the moment – that few, if any, other people I know would have reacted in such a manner. He sincerely thanked me after I remarked on my assessment of his chivalry. I said:
“Doc, how you reacted couldn’t have been faked.”