Thanks, Pop

You've been a bigger influence than you know.

Photo credit: Rance Ristau / SS&E

I was about 26 years old when I first got Pop’d. It’s like a rite of passage — you haven’t made it on the scene unless Gregg Popovich has torn you down over a question.

That question was about Derrick Brown. If you remember him, you’re a true hoop-head. If you don’t, you’ve probably lived a healthier and more well-rounded life than I have.

Brown was on the team’s preseason roster ahead of the 2012-13 season, just trying to make it to the big squad. This was around the time where the hybrid forward was starting to make its mark in the league, and while he never really made it in the league, I felt I had to ask:

“Hey, Pop. Derrick seems to be giving y’all that hybrid presence you’ve lacked, how have you—“

I was cut off.

“What are you, a coach? Tell me more about what we’re lacking.”

This was less than a year since I had been told to be a ‘fly on the wall’ covering the Spurs. I had gone from covering high-school sports, to covering an NBA team that in 2011-12 was bound for the Western Conference Finals. It was a whirlwind.

But I’d gotten cocky. I had asked one question of Pop that preseason that got a good response, and felt I had so many more. But it was all part of a journey, learning not only about the league and team I was covering, but the man I was covering.

I’ve always wished more people had a chance to see behind the mask more often, though, simply for selfish reasons. There’s long been a picture of Pop on television or from behind a microphone that portrays this angry old guy. But he’s not that.

He’s always cared deeply about the people to which he’s close. The NBA is often a show, and he’s always helped promote it. The real man, when the cameras are off, is a softie — as long as there’s mutual respect.

But he’s long cared about people. Of all walks. He came under much criticism (warranted, in my opinion) for telling Spurs fans to stop booing Kawhi Leonard a couple of years ago. And still, I get it. Despite the ugly separation between the two sides, he never stopped caring about him. He understood better than anyone that all this is a business, and even in the frustration I think he knew Kawhi just wanted to be home. And he respected that.

Pop always separated the sport from real life. From the things that mattered most to humans. There’s always the complicated factor of fans wrapping up their identities with sports allegiances, and that’s always going to be the case. If everyone was agnostic the bills wouldn’t be paid. But Pop wasn’t one of them.

He cared, and still does.

And that always hit me even in this silly world of sports: The real things Pop cares about aren’t in the arena. Yes, he’s paid quite a lot of money to do this job, which makes life a little easier, but it does not detract from him using the platform the way he did knowing full well what would come his way.

Backing Black people during a time when it was poisonous to do so in the face of a giant upswell against them, not only in this country, but in this state and the very fan base he’s represented for decades.

Backing Indigenous Peoples when, even as prominent wealthy school districts continued to give days off to celebrate Columbus Day, he was watching.

Backing women, and the rights they deserve.

Backing LGBTQIA+ people.

Backing immigrants.

Denouncing corruption.

Denouncing fascism.

But mostly, just calling out the assholes in power doing a disservice to the people they’re supposed to serve.

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“The true measure of a man is not how he behaves in moments of comfort and convenience, but how he stands at times of controversy and challenges.” — Martin Luther King, Jr.

I know my responsibility here is to stay objective, and I always will be. It even pains me to write in first-person. But this is one of those moments that is bigger than the content. I’ll write about the basketball later, but it’s just so unimportant right now.

Gregg Popovich always prioritized what was right in life, and while I won’t pretend to act like I know the man on anything more than a professional level, I do want to say his words and actions have affected me ever since I asked about Derrick Brown. Were there days I wished he’d just answer a mundane basketball question? Absolutely. We’re all just trying to get something simple to put in quotations for the people, man. Like he’s said many times before, it’s not rocket science.

But for his commitment to leading a career that stressed importance beyond any basketball quote, I’ll always respect him more than the rings he has on his fingers and the accolades which always follow the mention of his name. I admire Pop, the person, more than the coach, and his willingness to be open to the people who cheer for his team.

So much of NBA analysis these days is centered around the results you produce. And we all get it. It’s a business, and what have you done for me lately?

Pop was more than that. He humanized a position that is so often dehumanized even if it meant being unpopular to do so.

He’s the best to ever do it, without question. The job of a coach is to match your acumen with your empathy, with your sympathy, with your relatability to people when the cameras and microphones were out of sight.

I’ll always remember those silly interactions about Derrick Brown that left me embarrassed because, more importantly, I will always remember what he taught me as a man. Whether he knows it or not, he taught me.

I grew up here. I grew up learning how covering big-time sports works, here. The whole time, Pop has been there.

In recent years, Pop always said his job was to prepare this group for the next step. For the postseason. When things really start to matter.

He’s done that, and more. He’s taught them about life. He’s taught us about life.