Lee Roy Selmon was not a close friend of mine. I wasn’t that fortunate. But I was lucky enough to be in his company on more than a few occasions when I was with the Tampa Bay Business Journal and the University of South Florida.
The first time set the standard.
Selmon was in his NFL Hall of Fame prime with the Bucs and I was interviewing him for TBBJ in the early 1980s. It was part of a story package on the business of sports. I was working on a feature about athletes preparing — or not preparing — for life after games and headlines. I remember Robin Roberts, the baseball HOF pitcher and coach at USF, and John Newcombe, former Wimbledon champ, were part of it. As was Selmon.
The interview was at One Buc Place after a practice. I assumed — since this was an athlete and this was Florida — he’d be in shorts and flip flops and ball cap. He was in a short-sleeved shirt, slacks and loafers.
I had also assumed he would look and sound more like a prominent sports figure of national renown, indeed, a perennial All Pro defensive end. He came across as the academic All-American he had been at the University of Oklahoma. He was athletic looking, to be sure, but hardly a hulking presence. And personality-wise, he was no alpha athlete. I could have been talking to the Bucs’ accountant. He was gracious, almost deferential. And politely inquisitive.
I spent the first 10 minutes of the interview answering HIS questions. What was this business journal niche all about? How were we perceived and received by CEOs? How did I like it? What was my experience? What did I think of the Tampa Bay market?
When the Q&A reverted to form, he would prove better company than copy. He wouldn’t say anything critical about anything or anybody. It’s not what a gentleman did — even a gentleman who spent his Sundays in the macho, violent arena of pro football.
But I do recall one comment that spoke volumes. In the off seasons, he had been working at First Florida bank. But initially behind the scenes — not out front as a PR presence. He said he wanted to “learn the investment business.” I asked — in that leading-question way reporters always traffic in — “Wasn’t that what financial advisers were for?”
His response: “When I sit down with my financial adviser, I want to understand everything.”
I had walked in a stranger on assignment interviewing a high-profile sports figure. I left with an indelible impression of a dignified, smart, soft-spoken and likeable man who only had to get out of character for a couple of hours each Sunday in the fall.