MARK GIANNOTTO

As a nation and a city protest racial injustice, the greatest Memphis sports story isn't good enough anymore

Mark Giannotto
Memphis Commercial Appeal

What would Larry Finch say right now if he were alive? What would he do? 

Leonard Draper, the man who convinced Finch to attend Memphis State 50 years ago against the wishes of many in the black community here, and Vickie Finch, the woman Finch loved, were talking about it just the other day on the telephone. 

“If he was around, knowing him and knowing what kind of heart he had, he would be out there fighting for change,” Draper said. “If I know my friend, he’d be right at the forefront fighting for change. If he was here now, he would be vocal. He’d be like most young black men. He’d be very disturbed with what he’s seeing.”

Think about that for a second. 

It’s been almost 50 years since Finch and Ronnie Robinson and that historic 1972-73 Memphis State basketball team bridged the racial divide in this city just a few years after the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. 

It’s a great story. Black and white in this town joined together behind Tigers blue and gray en route to the national championship game. 

It’s also not good enough anymore. 

That familiar narrative, that the escape provided by sports unifies us, is only temporary. It’s true here, and it’s true all over this country. The events of the past week only cemented this. 

Sports can’t just bring us together in FedExForum or Liberty Bowl Memorial Stadium for a few hours rooting for the same team anymore. It needs to be an agent of change again. Just like it was when Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier in baseball. Just like it was for Jesse Owens and Muhammad Ali and Arthur Ashe.

And just like it was for Finch right here in Memphis.    

Because it’s been almost 50 years and, at least to Draper, the concerning and frightening images playing out across the country are so concerning and frightening because they are so familiar. 

It’s been almost 50 years, and the police brutality, the racial injustice, the peaceful and powerful protests – and even the folks who are trying to take advantage of and hijacking this moment by looting and setting fire to their own country – they’re still happening just like they were when Finch went from Orange Mound to Memphis State.

It’s been almost 50 years, and the institution Finch represented as both a player and coach – an institution that’s so important to this city – is about to build a statue in his honor. But simply commemorating Finch’s legacy isn’t good enough anymore. 

It’s a good story with an ending that’s no longer good enough. 

It’s been almost 50 years, and the University of Memphis athletics department currently has just one black head coach for its 18 teams. It’s Penny Hardaway, Finch’s former player.

The school’s athletics director and deputy athletics director, each hired over the past year, are white. So is every senior athletics director below them. 

It’s been almost 50 years, and the Memphis Grizzlies, known for their progressive off-court programs and hiring practices and hosting the NBA's annual MLK Day game, currently have an owner, two new top decision-makers and a new head coach who are all white.

It’s been almost 50 years, and the newspaper I write for has never had a black sports columnist. It’s been almost 50 years and just two of the 13 hosts on the major sports talk radio stations in this town, including the one I work for (92.9-FM), are black.   

These aren’t Memphis sports problems. These are American sports problems that filtered down to Memphis. There aren’t enough black general managers or head coaches in the NFL and NBA. There aren’t enough black administrators or head coaches at colleges around the country. 

These aren’t comfortable topics to address because our city’s sports institutions are not inherently racist. New University of Memphis athletics director Laird Veatch seems to be a fine hire. Grizzlies coach Taylor Jenkins looks to be a promising head coach, and Zach Kleiman has proven to be an adept NBA executive. I’d like to think I wasn’t such a bad choice, either.

But there’s a pattern, here and throughout the entire country, and ignoring that pattern isn’t good enough anymore. Ignoring racial injustice and police brutality isn’t good enough anymore. Ignoring the reality that we’ve accepted a sports culture, both here and throughout the entire country, in which a majority of our favorite athletes are black and the vast majority of the people in power are white, isn’t good enough anymore. 

Coach Gene Bartow, Larry Finch (21), Ronnie Robinson (33) and Larry Kenon (35) wait to be interviewed after Memphis State beat Providence in the semifinals of the Final Four in St. Louis in 1973.

Even Finch’s story, the one that brought Memphis together and sounds so good, isn’t good enough anymore. 

So what exactly would Finch say right now? 

Draper thought back to those days after Finch was unceremoniously let go as Memphis coach in 1997. The community clamored for him to say something negative about the school. Finch never did. 

“I’m not going to tear down something I helped build up,” Draper recalled him saying.

It's why Finch is so beloved here, but it's why the job isn’t done. Not even close. Not in a city with a population that's nearly 65% African-American. 

Look around at what you’re seeing unfold, at the unrest created by a racial divide that's existed for far longer than 50 years, and it's obvious. We must give pioneers like Larry Finch the ending they deserve.

And we can't wait another 50 years for it.

You can reach Commercial Appeal columnist Mark Giannotto via email at mgiannotto@gannett.com and follow him on Twitter: @mgiannotto