Jerry West Doc: A Hoopaholic’s Review

Gotta believe that a couple of years ago when basketball icon Jerry West passed away, there were more than a few fans of lesser years who wondered about the adulation, who had what I’ve dubbed a Bing Crosby Moment.*

*When the crooner Crosby died in ’77, it was front page above the fold news at the then still great C-J. I who would believe I know more about pop music and culture than just about anybody didn’t get it. The guy in the cardigan, smoking a pipe? White Christmas? After a smidge of research, I realized he was a teen idol, a global sensation, the Elvis of his time. And it you don’t understand the Elvis reference, may the Lord have mercy on your soul.

There’s a really interesting and informative documentary about Jerry West now streaming at Amazon Prime.

“Jerry West: The Logo.”

The logo, that’s him all right. Rightfully deserved. The kid we once knew as Zeke from Cabin Creek.*

*One thing I learned from the documentary is that West actually grew up in Chelyan, West Virginia. Cabin Creek was nearby and obviously more poetic and phonetic.

He could ball.

His pull up fifteen foot jumper — a long lost art — was perfection. The technique. The artistry.

Led his home state Mountaineers in college.

Led the LA Lakers in the pros. Where he averaged 27 ppg for his career. Where he won a crown, but fell oh so many times to his nemesis, Bill Russell’s Celtics.

Then became the greatest, most astute executive in NBA history, fashioning 8 titles.

But, for all his success, all the accolades and respect that came his way, he was a troubled man. Suffered from ongoing bouts of depression and low self esteem.

All of which he shares in this final interviews before death in Kenya Barris’s insightful film.

So revered West was that even famously private Michael Jordan appears to pay his respects and the reasons for that. Along with tens of others, friends and foes.

If you’re a hoopaholic, or just a fan, this is basketball history.

Worth watching.

* * * * *

I was blessed to have seen West play in person on consecutive nights in ’59 at the Final Four in Freedom Hall.

Along with another Hall of Famer of some regard, Cincinnati Bearcat Oscar Robertson.

Fully addicted at the time, this fourteen year old was beside himself that weekend.

The Louisville Cardinals had improbably upset their way to the national semis, along with West Virginia, Cincinnati and the eventual champion, Pete Newell’s California Golden Bears.