47 years later, Dan Issel and I pick up where we left off. I first interviewed 'The Horse' when I was a high-school sophomore. Now, at 77, he’s written a memoir about failure, faith and forgiveness. Here’s what he had to say.
Dan Issel, the legendary basketball player and coach, is not running from his mistakes. He's galloping towards them like a man. With a career spanning over 15 years in the NBA, Issel has achieved many slam dunks: the Basketball Hall of Fame, 27,000 points, six All-Star Games, and two coaching stints, including an unprecedented playoff upset that left a tearful Dikembe Mutombo flat on his back, refusing to let go of the ball.
However, in his new memoir, Issel doesn’t even get past his preface before inviting all comers to his massive frame under the basket. He writes about a terrible remark he made in the heat of the moment, something he deeply regrets. On December 11, 2001, following a frustrating 99-96 home loss to Charlotte, a heckling fan taunted Coach Issel as he walked off the Pepsi Center floor. Issel snapped back, 'Go drink another beer, you Mexican piece of (expletive).' It was all caught on camera. Outrage, threatened boycotts, and a four-game suspension followed. Despite a public apology and a meeting with local community leaders, Issel resigned, and his 31-year career in professional basketball was over.
Issel addresses this incident with blindsiding candor, but it's not the only hard part. He also talks about a 2009 bankruptcy that cost him his home, self-esteem, and most of his belongings, including his Hall of Fame and Kentucky Colonels ABA championship rings. He writes about the court representative coming to his house and asking him to choose which items to keep, with a value of up to $10,000. It was truly the worst thing he's ever been through.
As a lifelong Denver Rockets/Nuggets fan, I was trying to decide whether I never knew about the bankruptcy story or had simply forgotten it. As for the epithet Issel has sent a quarter-century atoning for, I’ve taught journalism in the state correctional system, where I often find myself reminding people that none of us should be defined by our worst moments.
The author wonders why Issel is being so forthright and confessional in this one-way conversation. He could have left out the hard parts and focused on the many glories of a remarkable career and been done with it. But the answer becomes clear: he's a coach. Our failures are inherently teachable moments, not like our successes.
Issel believes that if you only cover the great times, then that’s an Instagram post — not a true reflection of your life. He wants people to know how important his faith and family are to him and that the man who imploded that day isn’t who he is. He wants to talk about the grace, forgiveness, and resilience that followed.
The author then reflects on the time he first allowed Issel to interview him for his high-school journalism class 47 years ago. He remembers Issel's missing front teeth, which he was too shy to ask about at the time. The author also talks about his father, Ralph Moore, a longtime Nuggets beat reporter for The Denver Post, and his own journey in journalism.
The author and Issel also discuss the glory days of the ABA, including the historic 1976 All-Star Game that introduced the slam-dunk contest. They talk about Issel's running feud with Larry Brown and his joy that fellow former Nuggets coach George Karl succeeded in producing the ABA documentary 'Soul Power' and got it distributed on Amazon Prime.
The author ends the article by reflecting on the common humanity between him and Issel, about their failures, faith, fathers, forgiveness, and starting over. Their conversation wasn’t about mistakes; it was about what happens next.
