From his days as a reporter with the Press-Scimitar, to a stint as general manager of the Memphis Chicks (when Bo Jackson made the team national news), to his pioneering efforts on local sports-talk radio, Lapides sat at the head of the table when discussion turned to sports. He was an unabashed fan of the St. Louis Cardinals (sound familiar?) but didn’t hesitate to throw verbal punches when his favorite franchise — or any other — strayed beyond the boundaries of good performance (or behavior).
He often came across as grouchy on the air, and his digressions in support of sponsors took brand loyalty to a previously unreached extreme. (George was as savvy a businessman as he was a journalist.) But George Lapides, to his core, was devoted to Memphis and any cause that could benefit this city.
The last conversation George and I shared was during a media event at AutoZone Park in 2015. I liked to ask him stories about the Cardinals, knowing he was one of the few people on the planet who might share a tale I hadn’t already heard. George mentioned the time he was in a big-league clubhouse at spring training (not the Cardinals’ facility) when he asked a familiar player if he’d get an autograph from a Hall-of-Fame bound teammate for a loyal reader of the Press-Scimitar. (The loyal “reader” was actually blind and would call the Press-Scimitar sports department the morning after her favorite player had a game to ask how he’d done the night before.) The future Hall of Famer refused, and made a racially insensitive comment about Memphis. That player — at that moment — was crossed off George Lapides’s friends list, and rightfully so. (The story not being mine, I’m not comfortable sharing the name of the baseball star.) George loved sports and particularly baseball. But not as much as he loved Memphis.
I’m hurting especially for George’s family. Upon being hired by Memphis magazine in May 1992, my first supervisor was George’s son, David. The younger Lapides was on his way to grad school in Texas at the end of the summer, and I was hired to replace him as assistant to the publisher. I was nervous, hopeful (but unsure) that I could begin a career in journalism. David Lapides made me feel at home, helped me sharpen my focus, and pointed me in a direction I’ve followed to this day. He and his family have been in Calgary for years and we haven’t communicated much over the last two decades. But he’s a friend and I know what it’s like to lose your father. Please have David and the rest of the Lapides family in your thoughts.
One of my daughters recently finished an outstanding three years as a middle-school softball player. There were tears at the season-ending party, but Elena’s coach offered some wisdom, attributed to Dr. Seuss: “Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened.” Memphis will long be smiling because George Lapides happened. May he rest in peace.