Many, if not most of my neighbors know this man and realize his impact on our community. I saw him many times at Utah Jazz games. I saw him when I worked at the building he built that housed the team he bought and provided refuge from the elements for the fans who paid to experience (more than not) the thrill of cheering on a winning team. And I saw him as one of those fans, a guest of an very benevolent friend.
The man built an empire and died young—doing both is difficult for one can cause the other to not occur. In the end Mr. Miller had what most “natural” men would want, money, fame, and the occasional awkward quote in the newspapers or on ESPN Sports Center, you know, the things many men would sell their birthright for.
Mr. Miller no longer watches his team from his floor seat just right of center from center court, sitting with his beloved wife as he did since the building opened for the 1992-1993 NBA basketball season. Depending on your philosophy, he’s either watching from somewhere else, doing things that keeps him pre-occupied and therefore, not interested in the games, or has stopped existing all together. I prefer the middle option, because, basketball—even The Utah Jazz—is just a game and there are more important things to life (and what follows...). But every time I watch this short video of a man concentrating on something he gave so much of his life to achieve, his passion for his team in his house makes me think that for all those times he stood alone on the hardwood floor of the Delta Center/Energy Solutions Arena, he was a happy man.