Assuming you’re watching ESPN’s The Last Dance and caught episodes 3 and 4 centered around Dennis Rodman, I’ll share with you my story of hanging with Dennis in Las Vegas in 1997 while you wait for tonight’s episodes 5 and 6.
But before I begin, you have to know my Rodman connection pre-dates his marriage to Carmen Electra and her hiding in a Vegas hotel when Michael Jordan arrives to retrieve Rodman, a tidbit we learned in last Sunday’s The Last Dance.
My Rodman connection dates back to 1979, my senior year in high school, when I attended South Oak Cliff (SOC) High School in Dallas. Dennis had graduated from SOC that spring and been a classmate of my big bro Kevin, who remembers that Dennis used to eat a lot of candy in class. That fall, when my mother let me move from LA to Dallas for my senior year (because I had to do whatever my big bro did!), I became friends with Dennis’s younger sisters, Debra Rodman, who was in my class of 1980, and Kim Rodman, who was behind us. The Rodman girls were helluva basketball players at SOC, where Gary Blair (yes, THAT Gary Blair) coached at the time.
Coach Blair used to see me, at 6-foot-1, strolling the hallways and ask if I would play for him. “No, y’all fine without me,” I’d say in my best Texas drawl with a Los Angeles flair. And it was true. SOC went on to win the state title my senior year with Debra leading the way. Then Debra went on to star at Louisiana Tech, which she led to four Final Fours and two titles and a friggin’ amazing 130-6 record. Kim took her talents to Stephen F. Austin.
Fast forward to the 1990s when I became an NBA writer having paid my dues in Iowa City, Pittsburgh and Dallas. In November 1991, I joined the Orange County Register, becoming the first female beat writer to cover the Los Angeles Lakers. As such, I attended every home and away game, plus covered the NBA All-Star game and The Finals.
When I covered sports, I was known to hang out just a tad bit. OK, a lot. But I was always professional while pushing the boundaries and keeping my ears and eyes open to break a story. Dennis generally gave me an interview when I asked because of my long friendship with Debra, whom I would run into occasionally at his games, and because I became chummy with his agent, Dwight Manley.
And now Vegas. It’s February 1997 and I’m a sportswriter for USA Today, covering the NFL and NBA. Dennis, with the Chicago Bulls, has been suspended for 11 games for kicking a cameraman. The Worm spends his suspension in Southern California, where he has a home in Newport Beach, and Las Vegas. I run into Dennis while at one of my favorite L.A. watering holes. We’re standing next to each other at the bar, and I watch the massive amounts of alcohol he consumes. I suggest he give me an interview in the future. Dennis invites me to join him in Vegas. He’s flying private and leaving the next day, or maybe that night. I get permission from my editor to take a commercial flight the next day to Vegas, where I am to meet Dennis.
In Sin City, I check into my $69 room at The Mirage and wonder when my interview will take place. We meet up later that evening. He’s like a pied piper with people following him. Dennis is loving being the center of attention and his crew is partying hard. One blond chick from his crew hits on me, which I don’t appreciate and let her know. Dennis laughs. We’re at the craps tables having a good time. By 3 a.m., I am dragging. I’ve never met a group of people who can out drink and out party me, but I know my limit. I am NOT going to be shit-faced on the floor of The Mirage. I say my goodnights and Dennis, and I agree to connect the next day to finally get the interview I’ve flown to Vegas for.
And where do we do the interview? No, not at a bar or a craps table but in the health club at The Mirage. Dennis needed to get his workout on – after returning to his hotel room at 11 a.m. as I wrote in my February 10, 1997 USA Today sports cover story, which quotes not just Dennis but his mother, Shirley, extensively.
With this in mind, it didn’t surprise me to see so much footage of Dennis on an exercise machine in The Last Dance. This guy was an exercise machine. No matter how much he drank and partied, he exercised 10 times harder the next day to stay in NBA shape. Jordan co-signs this in The Last Dance when he talked about the running drill Phil Jackson had them do in the gym one day and Dennis took off, making his teammates have to try to keep up with him.
That was one of several interesting times I had with Dennis. In April 1997, I changed jobs and joined the start-up CNN-SI as an L.A.-based on-air reporter. On April 10, my last day as a sportswriter at USA Today, I gave myself a blow-out party at Tempest in the Beverly Center. Dennis’s sister Debra and agent Dwight were among my family and friends who celebrated my jump to broadcast journalism with me.
Three days later, I boarded Delta flight 429 to Atlanta, where I would work for several weeks at CNN’s mothership before returning to L.A. The Bulls and Atlanta Hawks met that year in the Eastern Conference semifinals, which I attended. Dennis invited me (or maybe I invited myself???) to hang out with him one night. He, Brian Williams/Bison Dele (may he RIP) and their crew were headed to one of Atlanta’s infamous strip clubs. Now, I had never been to a titty bar as they were called, but I had nothing better to do in Atlanta. Whatever it takes, within the law and my morals, to nourish a professional relationship then I did it. So, I met the guys, who were in a private area. At one point, the guys offered to buy me a lap dance. I refused and continued nursing my drink.
Once I switched from sports to covering entertainment, I continued on the so-called Dennis Rodman beat. I became friendly with Carmen Electra during their brief marriage and reported on them for People magazine. I hung out with Dennis at Super Bowls in San Diego and Miami.
I haven’t seen Dennis in years. The last time I saw him, I was staying at a dog-friendly hotel in Hollywood for professional reasons. Dennis happened to be there too. We had a drink together. But it obviously wasn’t his first, second or third drink that evening. When he got up to leave, he fell down because he was so drunk. I felt sorry for him.
After watching and re-watching episodes 3 and 4 of The Last Dance, I learned even more about Dennis, whom I thought I knew, and gained an even greater respect for his skills and focus. And now, bring on episodes 5 and 6 of The Last Dance!
