Memories of Steve Miller

As a newbie sports marketing lawyer at NIKE, I had the good fortune of supporting Steve on a slew of deals.  On one day working with him, he literally made me cry uncle.  It was a beautiful Spring day in 1997 during The Great Buffalo Hunt.  The Hunt was a legendary episode in NSM history when Rudy Chapa dispatched across the country tandem teams to engage with athletic directors and lockdown then-trendsetting all-sport/multi-sport outfitting deals.  In shifting pairings, Steve, Bill Kellar, Chris Bevilaqua, Adam Helfant, Kit Morris, Mike Barnett, Ralph Greene, Ed Janka, Paul Kelly, and I crisscrossed America cutting deals in a single meeting, and then moving on.  The goal was to lock-up agreements with every team that was ranked in the Top 25 in either football, or basketball.  We came damn near close to doing so. 

Anyway, I was paired with Steve for a visit to a Big Ten school and we had a connecting flight from O’Hare.  As I deplaned from coach, Steve—who was, of course, flying first-class—was waiting for me at the gate and finishing a call.  All I caught of the conversation was him saying “really, no problem at all.”  As I reached him, he had a huge smile on his face.  “FANTASTIC news!!  That was _______, he had an emergency and has to reschedule this afternoon’s meeting for another day.  We have two options: we can grab a flight to PDX and be home for dinner; or, get a hotel here and spend a day in the city.”  Before I could cast my vote, Steve answers: “first choice, not happening.  This is my town!  You hungry?  Ever had an Italian beef sandwich?  Gotta take you to Al’s.” We hop a cab to Al’s for my first-ever beef sandwich.  It was amazing, it’s 11:30 and I’m stuffed.  

“You have a little room for dessert?”  Though I didn’t, Steve was stoked so I folded and said sure.  We grab a cab, and Steve says Greektown.  We roll-up to a spot called Zeus.  Steve orders two gyros and a side of cheese fries.  He says trust me—“this is better than dessert!” We finish lunch #2 and I’m about to burst.  Steve is buzzing.  

“Hey, I think the Cubs are home today.  You ever been to Wrigley?”  Nope.  “If we hustle, we can make first pitch.”  He calls Evy, 30 minutes later, we’re sitting behind the Cubs’ dugout with a sausage and beer in hand.  The 6th inning comes around, Steve buys peanuts and Cracker Jacks for the sing along with Harry Caray during the 7th inning stretch, followed by another round of beers.  Cubs win!

Steve: “we gotta hustle, we need to check-in at the Hyatt and have a 6:00 reservation at Ditka’s.”  I’ve been up since 5:30AM, eating and drinking non-stop since 11:00AM, I want to crash.  We get to Ditka’s, it’s happy hour; Steve is happy, he knows everyone, we have a cocktail.  Steve tells me “you gotta get the pork chops and French onion soup.”  I do, it’s a load, it kills.  Chase it with dessert.  We get back to the hotel, it’s maybe 8:30.  Steve: “it’s early, I know some great Blues joints?”  “Steve, I’m beat.”  “OK, no problem, let’s just do a nightcap here.”  OK, just one.  “Great!  Two Highland Parks neat.”  I take a couple of sips—then tell Steve “no mas.”  I call it a day well before 9:00PM.

I’ve been in the sports biz for nearly 40 years and had the unbelievable fortune to have had many times over experiences that would be on the bucket list of any sports fan—Super Bowls, World Series, World Cups, NBA Finals game 7’s, All-Star games, college football championships, Final Fours, Grand Slams abroad, you name it.  With that all, a day game at Wrigley with Steve listening to his stories (some possibly true), eating brats, and guzzling Old Style makes the podium for me.  The mention of Steve's name always brings a smile to my face.  In a world of big personalities, Steve was the biggest and most joyous I’ve ever encountered.  Heaven just got a little louder.  Mills, R.I.P.

Gary Way