Penny Hardaway on the University of Memphis campus. Photograph by Brandon Dill.
There’s a counter that runs the full length of a conference room wall on the second level of the Laurie-Walton Family Basketball Center, just outside the head coach’s office. On this counter — on any day one might visit — rest basketball cards, glossy photos, a basketball or two, and often an authentic Lil Penny, the most popular stringless puppet in basketball history. These are what amount to fan mail for the rookie head coach of the University of Memphis Tigers, one Anfernee “Penny” Hardaway. They are a testament to the profound popularity of a 47-year-old former player. And Hardaway’s commitment to signing them is a testament to the profound commitment a Memphis son retains to those who made him a star in the first place.
For his return home (did he ever really leave?) and for his outsized role in returning hope to a region still devoted to a college basketball program never to have won a national championship, Penny Hardaway is Memphis magazine’s 2018 Memphian of the Year. The pride of Binghampton and long-since-closed Treadwell High School spent most of this year as the most popular winless coach in the country. But what follows — wins and losses, press conferences, recruiting excursions, and such — will shape Hardaway less than he will shape the forces around him. His is a presence known by few others in the Bluff City since Elvis Presley drew his last breath 41 years ago. He will be the rare coach known casually — and perhaps, formally — by a simple nickname. The heights he reaches as a college basketball coach — in his hometown, remember — will be worth every, er, penny his success generates.
Adapting to a new job — let alone thriving in it — requires the management of four human elements: doubt, fear, inspiration, and ultimately, confidence. He may be a Memphis icon and the job may feel like a birthright, but Penny Hardaway must navigate these forces just like the anxious rookie in your adjacent cubicle.
“As a lifelong basketball fan and U of M grad, the significance of hiring Penny Hardaway to coach in his hometown at his alma mater cannot be overstated. The energy his hiring brings to the university and to our city has really been electrifying. I’m so excited about what the future holds for the program with him at the helm and can’t wait to root for my Tigers.”
— Jim Strickland, Mayor of the City of Memphis
In his second season as a pro, Hardaway led the Orlando Magic to the 1995 NBA Finals. Photograph by Nathaniel S. Butler/NBAE via Getty Images.
"I never doubted myself on a basketball court,” says Hardaway, and emphatically. “Never. I felt like I could do anything. I was never short of confidence in my game.” Since he was a child playing on courts near his grandmother’s house — indoors or out — Hardaway felt in command near a basketball and hoop. He first played organized basketball in 8th grade, and a year later, famously stepped forward — when his coach asked who could start — and seized a starting spot as a freshman at Treadwell High School.
As a player, Hardaway achieved an extraordinary trifecta of accolades. After scoring more than 3,000 career points for Treadwell, Hardaway was recognized as the 1990 national high school player of the year by Parade magazine. He earned first-team All-America honors from the Associated Press after his 1992-93 (junior) season with the Tigers, one of only three Memphis players to be so recognized. And Hardaway reached the pinnacle of his sport when he was named first-team All-NBA after the 1994-95 and 1995-96 seasons when he starred for the Orlando Magic. (You’ve heard of the other four members of the 1996 team: Michael Jordan, Scottie Pippen, Karl Malone, and David Robinson.)
The claws of doubt finally snared Hardaway in a basketball uniform — that of the Miami Heat, his fourth NBA team following stints with Phoenix and New York — on December 3, 2007, in Salt Lake City. The four-time All-Star started that night but was held scoreless in 13 minutes on the floor in a nine-point Jazz win. He’d never play another NBA game. His 36-year-old knees had reached the finish line.
“When you retire early,” reflects Hardaway, “it’s like, ‘Man, I didn’t finish this the way I should have.’ It was tough, not being able to compete at a high level. I missed the competitiveness of the [NBA]. I wasn’t ready to leave. It was because of injuries. Bittersweet moment, being done with basketball, but looking at new horizons and what God had ready for me. Now, I understand who I am, where I am.”
Despite his otherworldly gifts on the hardwood, Treadwell didn’t win a state title. Memphis State fell a game short of the Final Four in 1992. And Orlando lost to Houston in the 1995 NBA Finals. Hardaway helped the U.S. team win a gold medal at the 1996 Olympics in Atlanta, but that wasn’t his team, rather an unbeatable squad of NBA All-Stars. For all his accolades, Penny Hardaway retains a hunger to achieve what he hasn’t. He got the state title (actually three of them) as coach of the East High Mustangs. Next: a national championship for his college alma mater?
“Penny is a hometown hero but not in the way we generally categorize those who have started small and gained greatness. Yes, Penny started in Binghampton and made his way to first-team All-NBA, became a superstar and pop-culture icon. What is different about this Memphis hero is that he is still humble. Humble enough to value friendship and coach Lester Middle School for a friend sick with cancer. Penny has demonstrated that he cares about people more than his own fame and fortune. He loves the game and he loves the kids.”
— Gayle Rose, acclaimed Memphis businesswoman
Hardaway rarely sits during a Tiger game. He calls standing “my thinking pose.” Photograph by Larry Kuzniewski
Hardaway purses his lips and quickly shakes his head when asked about what scares him. “You fear injuries at the wrong time of the year,” he says. “That happened to [the Tigers’ top scorer] Jeremiah Martin last year. But beyond that, nothing really.”
When he’s asked about legless reptiles, though, Hardaway’s eyes widen. “Now, a snake would scare me,” he acknowledges. “Anything that could kill you scares me. A snake would make me pause.” The admission is about as close as you’ll come to identifying human frailty in a man now a quarter-century removed from his heights as a college basketball star in Memphis. In taking his new job, Hardaway hasn’t confronted any fears yet — you might see geese wandering the grounds outside the Laurie-Walton Family Basketball Center, but no serpents — but he’s discovered, perhaps for the first time, restriction.
“The demands seem like seven days a week, 365,” says Hardaway. “But that comes with the job, and I knew that. It’s been tough, but I understood. You get a lot of free time when you’re a high school coach, not so in college.” When he’s not being pulled into an interview room by ESPN or smaller media entities, Hardaway is scheduling speaking engagements, meeting with a suddenly larger booster club, or appearing in a parade (through Orange Mound as grand marshal for the Southern Heritage Classic in September). And that’s when he’s not on the road recruiting, casting a net for the next scoring sensation or lockdown defender.
And what if Hardaway doesn’t win? Nothing is automatic, no matter how popular or precocious a coach (or his players) may be. That 1996 Olympic team that Penny helped win a gold medal? Every last member of that team — from Charles Barkley to Mitch Richmond — is in the Naismith Basketball Hall of Fame, except Penny Hardaway. There are snakes that slither silently, but bite painfully.
“It is so gratifying to see a lifelong Memphian complete the circle. A child prodigy who actually lived up to the hype. Penny could have lived anywhere but returned home to give back to his community. He worked tirelessly to turn Team Penny and East High into successful, nationally recognized programs. The excitement that he has generated since being named head coach of the Tigers is incredible. The exposure that Penny is generating for the program and the city is worth a fortune.”
— Kevin Kane, CEO of Memphis Tourism
Hardaway is only the second Tiger coach (after Larry Finch) to have his number hanging from the rafters. Photo by Larry Kuzniewski
Inspiration can sneak up on you. And it can break your heart. Hardaway answered the call of a cancer-stricken friend, Desmond Merriweather, in 2011 and took over the coaching duties for Lester Middle School. He led Lester to a West Tennessee championship, and discovered himself as a leader over the ensuing years even as Merriweather lost his personal battle (he died in 2015). Hardaway’s life transition led to the coaching gig at East, an experience on the sideline, one has to believe, that informed the university’s decision to hire an iconic player for his coaching skills.
“I didn’t start thinking about this job, honestly, until a couple of years ago,” says Hardaway. “It wasn’t something I thought about when I was young.” Well into his NBA career, Hardaway resumed classes at the U of M and graduated in 2003 with a degree in professional studies. When those balky knees began screaming on game nights, Hardaway’s thoughts turned toward life’s bigger picture, one his mind never envisioned without a Memphis skyline. (Hardaway has kept a home on the TPC Southwind golf course for years.)
As for his coaching role models, Hardaway starts with the obvious, his own college coach. “Being a competitor . . . that’s what Coach [Larry] Finch was all about,” he says. “And being tough. He knew the game. He was a player’s coach. He communicated well. Coach Finch let me know that if you love your players, they’ll go the extra mile for you.”
When asked if he learned anything not to do from his own coaches, Hardaway bristles at the suggestion, emphasizing he won’t judge any man by decisions that go awry. Instead, he describes himself as the product of all the coaches he’s known. Among those he played for in the NBA, four — Chuck Daly, Lenny Wilkens, Pat Riley, and Larry Brown — can now be found in the Hall of Fame. “Playing at the highest level,” he says, “I learned a lot of things from a lot of great coaches. The knowledge I received, I can pour into these kids.”
In one breath, Hardaway will ask for realistic expectations from the Tiger fan base. In the next, he’ll aim for a moon landing. “We want to win a national title,” he says, and without a that’s-crazy-talk grin. “I don’t think that’s far-fetched. That drives me. To win a championship now would trump not winning one in high school, college [as a player], and the NBA.”
Going a step further, Hardaway suggests the Tigers’ first national championship would mean more to his legacy than an Olympic gold medal. “The gold medal was something we were supposed to do,” he says. “We had the best players in the world playing for one team. We’ve got to do what’s not expected. They’re not expecting us to win a national championship here.”
“Penny Hardaway was the right hire at the right time. He has the skills to be the most successful coach in the history of the university. All of Tiger Country needs to rally around Penny and the program . . . and be patient if things don’t move as fast as the expectations.”
— Herb Hilliard, former First Tennessee executive and the first African-American to play basketball at the University of Memphis (1966-69)
To anyone older than the 47-year-old Hardaway, the new coach remains a “kid” of sorts. No one, after all, played a younger style of basketball than he did in his prime: a game built on speed, quickness, agility, and deceit. But Hardaway was, in fact, older when he coached his first game for the Tigers than his coach/predecessor, Larry Finch, was when he coached his final game (in 1997).
With age comes a degree of confidence, even in tackling a job with the brightest spotlight in town. It won’t hurt that Hardaway will see a statue of Finch erected outside his office window on the university’s South Campus. Basketball heroes mean something in this town.
Tubby Smith — a man with a national championship on his resume — won 60 percent of his games over two seasons as Memphis coach, but FedExForum was more than half empty on most nights his Tigers took the floor. This isn’t lost on Hardaway, even as he shies away from the notion that the solution to selling seats on Tiger game nights is, in fact, staring at him in the mirror.
“I know I can make things better,” says Hardaway. “We can get this team to a level of national prominence we [once] had. There’s pressure. But you manage it with realistic expectations and hard work. You get through a lot of things by working hard.”
Within 30 days of Hardaway taking over the Tigers, the city’s two most prominent recruits — Cordova High School’s Tyler Harris and Alex Lomax, who played for Hardaway at East — signed with the program. (The signings vaulted Memphis into the nation’s top 30 recruiting classes.) And any concerns about an empty FedExForum were extinguished on October 4th — more than a month before the team’s season opener — when 18,000 fans paid to be a part of Memphis Madness, an introductory extravaganza, but with no score to keep in a meaningful basketball game. It was pure lovefest, an NBA arena packed with people metaphorically hugging a single person, a coach without a solitary college win to his credit.
“It’s inspiring,” says Hardaway. “It’s a blessing. The city has always shown me love, and it continues to show me love. They understand what I’ve had to sacrifice to become coach here. They know I could have ridden off into the sunset, moved anywhere else in the country. But I came home to make a difference. I know they appreciate it, and it makes me feel good.”
Make no mistake: In a city known for kings, Penny Hardaway is the coin of the realm.
