Our December cover story, about 2018 Memphian of the Year, Penny Hardaway, was many months in the making. We asked Frank Murtaugh, who interviewed Hardaway and wrote the story, and Brandon Dill, the photographer, to tell us about the experience.
From Brandon Dill:
I know that only 8 minutes and 16 seconds elapsed between the first photo I took of Penny, when he arrived on his phone, to the last one of him posing by the columns. Everything went smoothly on my end.
With the Grizzlies in town, photographing someone of my height [Brandon is 6'7"] is not an entirely uncommon experience, but I always definitely appreciate any opportunity to photograph someone without having to contort my spine or do the splits to get down to eye level with a subject. #tallguyproblems
Back in July, on the day of the photo shoot, Brandon tested the light before Penny arrived by snapping a few photos of Frank, shown here.
From Frank Murtaugh:
With a public figure of Penny Hardaway’s stature — especially in Memphis, Tennessee — every minute of access is gold. I’ve been on the Tiger basketball beat (for the Memphis Flyer, our sister publication) since 2001, so I’ve done the media dance with the likes of John Calipari, Derrick Rose, Joe Jackson, Josh Pastner, and Tubby Smith to varying degrees of engagement. No one has made me feel more “in the room” with him than Calipari, the man who coached the Tigers to the 2008 Final Four before departing for Kentucky a year later. Rose was timid, quiet, barely able to look a reporter in the eyes for more than a brief response to a question. Of course, he was 19 when the eyes of Memphis were upon him over the course of that single, now “vacated” (by the NCAA record book) winter.
Calipari and Rose couldn’t approximate what I’ve witnessed since Hardaway was named head coach of his alma mater on March 20th. We must be careful in using the word euphoria, for its meaning — a state of intense excitement or happiness — is diluted with overuse. But the city of Memphis — those who know of Tiger basketball, so most of us — has been functioning under a general state of euphoria for almost nine months now, with the best yet to come. (See Wiseman, James.)
Last June 20th — precisely three months since Hardaway took the Tiger job— photographer Brandon Dill and I were given 30 minutes with the rookie coach. We had an appointed time (4:30 p.m.) at the Laurie-Walton Family Basketball Center, the shiny new training facility now seemingly built for its most famous occupant. Brandon and I showed up an hour early, “set-up time” on a photographer’s agenda.
Brandon may be the only photographer in Memphis who can casually look the 6’7” Hardaway in the eye. It made for a unique greeting between the two. Penny was on his way to a function where he would be saluted, another speaking engagement for a man who, not that different from young Rose, has largely kept words and thoughts to himself despite his fame. On this afternoon, he was actually still dressing (tie not around his neck yet) and still taking phone calls as we chose the Laurie-Walton grand portico — and its eight Doric columns — as the staging area.
I had two questions for Hardaway before Brandon took over the shoot. Does his son, Jayden (a freshman player for the Tigers) call him “Coach” or “Dad?” (He calls him Dad.) And what kind of record will his first Tiger team put up? (Hardaway smiled broadly, tossed his head back, and said, “30-0! Why not?”) Looking back, the small talk is yet another sampling of why Hardaway has become the personification of euphoria for this region. Foremost, he’s family. Memphians don’t quite call him “Dad,” but he’s so much more than “Coach” to all of us. And then there’s the optimism. 30-0! Why the hell not? This is Tiger basketball and he’s Penny Hardaway.
My interview with Penny — several weeks later — took place on a small deck overlooking the Laurie-Walton practice court. And it took place while the Tigers were practicing. (Hardaway was not told of his status as our Memphian of the Year. To him, this was another sportswriter looking to fill column space. Remember: every minute is gold.) The random and rapid squeak of sneakers — mixed with shouts of players — made for “background music” not all that conducive to getting inside the head of a local legend. But it proved to be the right setting. Well nigh perfect.
I imagine there will be visits to Hardaway’s office in the future, more formal conversations about the state of things in his rising program. We’ll sit across a desk or table. I’ll ask him about the new prize recruit, or the kind of legacy his star senior might leave, relative to other stars the program has known (wink). But this will be Penny Hardaway in my world, that of a journalist, the stage as much mine as his.
For our Memphian of the Year visit, one I’ll long remember, the stage was very much Penny Hardaway’s. In a basketball gym. And not on the court, but above the court. Rarefied air, you might say, for the rare human being who actually finds comfort there.
When the day comes, imagine what it will be like to follow Penny Hardaway as Memphis Tiger basketball coach. Deep breaths for that person. Closer to my home, imagine our task in having to choose a Memphian of the Year for 2019. How indeed do you follow Penny Hardaway in Memphis, Tennessee?
