To Wayman, best wishes, John
Published: 5/22/2009 11:34 AM
Last Modified: 5/22/2009 11:34 AM
It was Bryan Adams.
I just spent a half-hour Googling various combinations of the words "concerts," "Norman," "Lloyd Noble" and "1985," and I discovered it was Bryan Adams that I'd taken Penni Pennington to see that night 24 years ago.
What was, I'm sure, a pretty good show — Adams was still a rocker then and had recently begun touring for "Reckless", a solid album — was quickly wiped out of my memory within just a few hours.
That's when Penni and I pulled into a Wendy's in Norman for a late-night burger and, for the first time, I met a real sports hero.
Wayman Tisdale.
I lived in Ada, she in Vanoss, and we had heard on the radio earlier in the day, during Wayman's 3 p.m. press conference at Memorial Stadium, that he was leaving OU after his junior season and declaring for the NBA Draft.
Up until today's Google search, the only thing I remembered about the concert was that Penni was a bit put off that I had been so dour throughout the show. After all, to a 16-year-old in Pontotoc County, Wayman was The Man.
Anyway, as we yanked a right into the Wendy's lot, I noticed three newly polished luxury cars all together. Two were Cadillacs. We were going to do drive-through, but the cars intrigued us enough to go in. We entered not knowing who the hotshots were, and as we shuffled past the register, I peered and peeked until I saw a medium-sized gathering of well-dressed folks in the back of the restaurant.
In the middle of the pack was Wayman Tisdale. Oh man.
I'd seen Wayman a hundred times on TV, but, being 16 and from Pontotoc County, had never had the opportunity to see him play in person at OU — one of my great teen regrets, to be sure. And certainly I had never met him. Knowing the circumstances — that he would soon be lost to me forever in the NBA — I resolved to introduce myself. It was the opportunity of a lifetime.
Penni and I quietly ate our hot-and-juicys and occasionally checked out the entourage from the corners of our eyes. At least I did. She may have been mad that I wasn't paying attention to her. I didn't notice.
Growing up in North Pole, Alaska, sports heroes are almost never seen up close. A few college baseball players — Dave Kingman, Dave Winfield, Terry Francona, for example — had been through Fairbanks for a summer here or there playing semipro ball for the Goldpanners. In 1979, members of the Seattle Seahawks came to Fairbanks to play a charity basketball game against some high school all-stars, and we got some autographs afterwards (the 'Panners notwithstanding, Steve Largent and Jim Zorn were my first big-time autographs as a boy).
Don't tell Largent, but meeting Wayman would top them all.
We waited about an hour (maybe that's why Penni was mad) until his troupe was near the exit. He walked up to the counter to get a lid for his to-go cup. I was nervous, but this was the moment. I got up, stepped forward and said, "Didn't you used to play basketball at OU?"
I wasn't sure what to expect until the moment he turned on that amazing smile. He laughed, like he thought my introduction was actually funny. Maybe it was. We shook hands and introduced ourselves. I said I had heard the news and sure was sorry he was leaving Oklahoma, but I knew he'd make a great pro. He blinked and smiled again and said he hated to leave just because of fans like me.
I blushed. I think. Penni said I did. I may have passed out for all I knew.
We talked for a minute or so. I was in my second year as sports editor of my high school paper, the Cougar Call, so my interviewing skills weren't quite ready yet. But we chatted. I was inebriated with satisfaction.
At the end, he asked if I wanted an autograph. At 16 (and being from Pontotoc County), I thought maybe I was too old to ask. But I said sure. He asked if I had anything to write with. I said no. He asked the manager for a pen. He asked if I had anything to write on. I said no. He asked the manager for a to-go sack.
I still have the sack. In blue ball-point pen, it says, "To John, best wishes, Wayman Tisdale, #23".
Wayman lost his fight with cancer this morning. OU coach Jeff Capel called him "one of the all-time best people to walk the face of this earth." I agree. Basketball maestro. Jazz renaissance man. Father, husband, Christian. Sports hero.
Wayman's grace — in sports and in life — touched us all.
— John E. Hoover
Written by
Guerin Emig
Sports Writer
