Hollywood is in a State of Frenzy
Over Steve Kerr

By Bob Vickrey

Palisadian Post

April 7, 1988

Hollywood has gone Tucson. No folks, that’s not backwards. Lately, the patrons at Mort’s Deli in Pacific Palisades could care less about the local movie stars whose pictures adorn the walls here. The latest rage isn’t all that glitzy. He is a local boy turned college basketball star.

In a town accustomed to rubbing shoulders with Walter Matthau and Chevy Chase, the talk of the village has shifted recently to University of Arizona basketball, the Final Four tournament, and one Steve Kerr.

Map sales for the homes of stars have dropped dramatically in recent months as this sleepy refuge from the entertainment capital suddenly has more in common with French Lick, Indiana—home to Boston Celtic star Larry Bird.

University of Arizona basketball is pretty much subversive talk in a town that sits in the shadow of Pauley Pavilion’s NCAA banners proclaiming John Wooden history. But with stock falling rapidly in the local teams and the media’s massacre of all basketball west of the Hudson River, you’ll forgive us for living vicariously through an adjacent state’s successful program.

The focus of our adulation is on Steve Kerr, a kid who puts Horatio Alger to cringing shame. The unwanted high school prospect has suffered personal tragedy, overcome a debilitating knee injury, and has fought back to lead his team to the Final Four. Sports Illustrated, People Magazine, and USA Today document his every move.

Many in the media are giving credit to Arizona Coach Lute Olson for Kerr’s success, because back then he seemed like a long shot gamble. But I’m here to tell you that there are 27,000 Palisadians who want to share the credit.

I’ve personally talked with 20,000 of them that lived across the street from the Kerr’s, or taught, coached, and/or claimed to have had a direct influence on Steve’s early life. The other 7,000 said they got involved later, sending him their encouragement and support during hard times.

Well, I’ll have you know that I once played nerf football with Steve and some neighborhood kids in Brian Fogel’s front yard when he was 16, or so. I have had to embellish the story a bit recently since my business travels now take me to Tucson—where his basketball exploits have become downright legendary.

I became a semi-folk hero in a restaurant there one evening by simply telling a group of Wildcat fans that I knew him as a kid in Southern California. During a trip to Texas a few weeks later, while visiting family and friends, my role of mentor was beginning to take shape and sound rather authentic. Before I left, in true Texas fashion, I was taking full credit for Steve’s uncanny three-point shot.

Even though I never saw him again after that neighborhood game, I was convinced that my impeccable throwing motion with the nerf ball and my savvy game plan that day must have had a profound effect on Kerr’s later life.

I thought maybe the town could do what French Lick did for Larry Bird and name the main street after him. However, after toying with all the possibilities, I decided that Via de la Kerr sounded more like an after dinner drink than a main thoroughfare.

In another city, a ticker tape parade might have been in order, but the height restrictions here limit the ultimate effect. Let’s face it; confetti shredded from the top of a 12-foot building does not exactly generate pandemonium.

The pro scouts say that Kerr is probably not quick enough to play in the NBA. Of course, most college scouts said similar things when he graduated high school. If he doesn’t play, his popularity in Arizona is such that he might have to settle for becoming governor of the state.

The story goes that Larry Bird returned one day to French Lick to tell the real story of those that had furthered his career and also to expose those that had taken improper credit along the way. So beware Palisadians. Steve Kerr may return home one day and embarrass you in front of your friends and neighbors if you have lied about your contributions.

Meanwhile, I’m sure he will be praising those of us who sparked and molded his athletic success along the way. Me and Lute Olson—two peas in a pod.

Bob Vickrey’s columns now run in several Southwestern newspapers including the Houston Chronicle and the Ft. Worth Star-Telegram. He is a member of the Board of Contributors for the Waco Tribune-Herald and is a regular contributor to the Boryana Books website. He lives in Pacific Palisades, California.

Steve Kerr