The Musings of a Memphis Grizzlies Fan

Last month, I wrote about being a nearly lifelong fan of the Denver Broncos. It’s my oldest sports fandom but not my fiercest—not even close. That distinction belongs to the Memphis Grizzlies. The team I’ve seen play, both in person and on TV, more than any franchise in any sport. The team whose fortunes I care about the most.

Though I haven’t lived in Memphis for almost a decade, it’s where I grew up, so I’ll forever consider it my hometown. Because the Grizzlies are the city’s only pro sports team—and because I lived there during a momentous period in franchise history, which I’ll detail below—I feel a pull, a connection, a bond that may never be broken.

The NBA playoffs began a few days ago, and I’m bummed the Grizzlies aren’t in the postseason. But it was 13 years ago this month when the Grizzlies franchise changed forever and my fanaticism took hold, so now seemed like the right time to pay tribute.

My latest edition of “A Fan’s Notes” chronicles my fervor for the Grizzlies. And while this origin story isn’t as random as how I became a Broncos fan—I picked them out of the Sears catalog at age 6 with no ties to Denver—this one does have a surprisingly strange starting point. It begins 4,000 miles away from Memphis in Anchorage, Alaska.

In 2001, the Vancouver Grizzlies announced a relocation to Memphis, giving the city its first professional sports team. At the time, after a few years spending summers in Alaska and winters in Colorado, including a season ski-bumming in Breckenridge, I had settled down in Anchorage with my girlfriend, Sandy.

I had moved away from Memphis several years earlier but still followed news from my hometown. I grew up in Memphis and went to college there. My parents and many friends still lived in the area. And I suspected I’d end up back someday. I cared deeply about the city and wanted it to do well. The Grizzlies’ arrival was huge and welcome news.

Landing a pro sports team gave Memphis the “big city” cred it long sought, and I instantly became a Grizzlies fan, even though they were neither good on the court nor easy to find on TV.

Back then, Memphis was merely a place we’d visit from time to time to see family and friends, but when my dad had some health issues a few years later, Sandy (by this point, my wife) suggested we move there to be closer to him and my mom.

We left Alaska and moved to Memphis in August 2005. When the season tipped off a few months later, I could finally root for my favorite pro hoops team up close. I felt like a real fan—one who, you know, went to games and bought gear at the team shop, who read about the team in the daily newspaper and debated the previous night’s game with coworkers.

Being a real fan of any sports team brings heartache, of course, and if you’re lucky, there’s a little joy mixed in. In the beginning, it was mostly the former.

The Grizzlies were terrible, but there was one benefit to their atrociousness: It was easy to get in the building for cheap or even free. Both Sandy’s and my employer often gave us the company tickets because no one else wanted to attend. If not, we could always get in for $10 or less.

Only the diehards, or those given freebies, showed up at the arena. Despite some new and exciting young players, the roster had a bevy of veterans past their prime, and not many people wanted to pay to watch the team rebuild. Still, we kept going to games.

Our loyalty would eventually pay off. During the 2009-10 season, Memphis notched a 40-42 record and narrowly missed the playoffs. The Grizzlies were finally exciting. They were finally trending in the right direction. And my fanaticism—along with the entire city’s—was finally growing. By the end of the following season, it would explode.

The 2010-11 campaign marked the emergence of a new era for the Memphis Grizzlies. The team would become known for its “Core Four”—Mike Conley, Zach Randolph, Tony Allen, and Marc Gasol (pictured in the header image)—the quartet of players who defined almost a decade of Memphis pro hoops.

Those four not only led the team to its most successful era on the court but captured the city’s hearts along the way. They connected with current fans and attracted new ones based on their rough-and-tumble, blue-collar style of play, which was an NBA outlier at the time.

The era’s theme was born when Allen—or simply “T.A.” as Memphis fans called him—told a sideline reporter after a particularly inspired game that the Grizzlies had played that night with “all heart, grit, grind.”

All heart. Grit. Grind. It was an apt descriptor of both the city and the team. From that moment, the phrase—sometimes “Grit ‘n’ Grind” or even just GNG—became a rallying cry, a slogan for the Grizzlies, their hometown, and their fans. The mantra made it onto posters, bumper stickers, and bootleg T-shirts.

In April 2011, the Grizzlies made the playoffs for the first time in five seasons. And on April 17, playing in San Antonio against the top-seeded Spurs, Memphis won its first playoff game in franchise history.

Sandy and I watched that game at R.P. Tracks in Memphis, and when Shane Battier hit a late, go-ahead three-pointer, we could almost hear the entire city erupt. A few seconds later, when the clock expired and Memphis finally ended its embarrassing 0-12 franchise playoff schneid, Grizz Nation was overjoyed—and relieved.

Grizz fever consumed Memphis, and the Grizzlies won the series, 4-2, sealing the opening round matchup with a 99-91 Game 6 victory on April 29, 2011—coincidentally, Sandy’s birthday. The party on Beale Street lasted throughout the night.

Though the team would fall to Oklahoma City in the next round after taking the Thunder to Game 7, the mood was electric throughout Memphis. We finally had a team that could compete with the league’s best—one with a mantra made for Memphis. We had down-to-earth players who loved the city and who we loved back. We had moments of pure joy followed by utter heartbreak. And we never bluffed.

Sandy and I went to many games that season—often with our good friend Lance Wiedower and his son, Colby—and I think we attended all but one playoff game. Though I had been a fan since Day One of the franchise’s arrival in Memphis, the 2011 playoff run intensified and solidified my love for the team. The same happened to a lot of fans.

The Grit ‘n’ Grind Grizzlies carried that success as far as they could, making the playoffs seven straight years, including a trip to the Western Conference Finals in 2013, and winning over converts near and far. My fanaticism grew each season.

But just as fate brought Sandy and me to Memphis nine years earlier, it whisked us away when we chose to move to Colorado. As much as we loved Memphis, as much as we knew we’d miss our family, our friends, and going to Grizz games, it was time to return to the mountains and reclaim some of that ski bum life from our youth.

We left in the fall of 2014, just a few weeks after the new season had begun, but we didn’t leave our Memphis fandom behind. We packed it up and brought it west.

After arriving, we quickly learned it’s hard to cheer for the Grizzlies in Colorado. Wins are rare here because the high altitude makes Denver a difficult place to play. Sure enough, during our first few years, we watched Memphis get trounced almost every single time, even when the Grizzlies were the better team.

Thankfully, during the 2016-17 season, Memphis swept two games in Denver, and Grizz Nation showed out at Ball Arena (then known as Pepsi Center). It was nice to see so many Growl Towels so far from FedExForum, and several of us gathered after one of those victories for a post-game pic. We knew it might not happen again for a while.

Except for that season, the Grizzlies haven’t fared too well in Denver, usually getting blown out here. But in January 2022, when Memphis visited Denver that month, Sandy and I were in the building for the Grizzlies’ 122-118 victory.

The arena had more Grizzlies fans than we had seen in a while, due primarily to our new star, Ja Morant, one of the league’s best and most exciting young players. He draws a crowd whenever and wherever he plays.

We sat behind the Grizzles bench, and as the game wound down—the Grizzlies’ victory all but wrapped up and Memphis fans getting louder with each second ticking down—we heard a Nuggets supporter complain that the Memphis contingent was only interested in seeing Ja and “nothing but bandwagon fans.”

Bandwagon fans? The Grizzlies? Did he not know this team once couldn’t fill half its arena? Did he not realize that Ja is the only superstar in a quarter-century of being a franchise? We were dismayed but also delighted. His comment meant the Grizzlies had finally arrived. For the first time since the GNG era ended, the future was as bright as the past.

Things haven’t gone quite so smoothly since that win in Denver. The Grizzlies’ 2023-24 campaign was plagued by a rash of injuries to several starters, and it ended mercifully on April 14 in a blowout loss to Denver (of all teams), capping their first losing season in four years.

But, as always, I remained a fan. And like any true fan, I found some little things to cheer about: The Grizzlies notched a few surprise wins against top-tier teams; several newcomers developed into solid rotation players; and the franchise retired Marc Gasol’s jersey number in an emotional ceremony on April 6.

That celebration took me back to the era that ignited my love for this team, just as I’m sure it did for many fans who needed something to carry them through the upcoming offseason. The same goes for a video on YouTube called The Grit and Grind Grizzlies | A Retrospective, which debuted around the same time. These were reminders of why I became—and why I remain—such a fan.

It also reminded me of perhaps the best article I’ve ever read about how the Grizzlies endeared themselves to an entire city and fanbase: Everyone knows someone in Memphis: the Grizzlies, the city, and the end (if you’re a Memphian and were around for the GNG era, this article is a must-read—even 11 years later).

Watching those tributes and rereading articles from that era brought back dozens of memories. It took me back to Growl Towels and homemade T-shirts; pre-game Big Ass Beers on Beale Street and post-game shots at our favorite bar; chanting Al Kapone’s “Whoop That Trick” and cheering like crazed wrestling fans as Z-Bo pinned Blake Griffin to the floor; turning FedExForum into the “Grind House” and watching T.A. turn into the “Grindfather.”

Each of those memories is indelible—just like my Memphis Grizzlies fandom, which began in Alaska, was forged in Memphis, and has continued in Colorado. All these years later, I’m certain it will endure no matter where I’m living, no matter which players are on the court, no matter how well the team is performing.

Whether you’ve supported the team for decades or recently jumped on the bandwagon and promise to stick around for a while even when things go awry, I believe that’s what being a fan is all about.