Guest opinion: He lost his life, but his memory might save others
It’s hard to write a column about Mike Oliver. It’s been only five months since he died, so my eyes still water when I think about him, and just in terms of writing, there’s so much to say about his career, talents, passions, and family that a book or full-length film would be better. I mean, this was a person who, besides being a family man, broke big stories, broke ankles on the basketball court (see me victimized here), and forced others to break “I shouldn’t laugh at that” decorum with his insanely dark jokes about his own fatal disease, Lewy body dementia.
But because the annual “Mike Madness” (see the dark humor?) charity basketball tournament and celebration is just a few days away, here’s a short message:
Consider getting off the figurative couch and onto the Mike Madness website to help fight LBD, or better yet, come join us at the UAB Rec Center or the afterparty at Trim Tab Brewing in Birmingham on Saturday, August 10.
Too blunt? Well, I did just hobble off the court after trying to prep for the big tournament by playing in Mike’s beloved low-key “Old Man Hoops” pickup game. You see, when you’re old and not exactly in basketball shape, the exertions of the game deprive brains of oxygen necessary for functional filters. And, like a song I happened to hear on the way home by yet another talent taken from us too soon, trying to play a young-person’s sport reminds you of an impolite fact: you aren’t going to live forever. So why mince words? Why waste precious time?
Speaking of which, if you’re reading this, you probably know that regrets suck and that if you have a chance to do something worthwhile, focus on the “worth” and don’t wait the “while.” Team Mike hopes you’ll help fight the disease that took him and so many others too soon and that you’ll enjoy this growing, community-building celebration.
And a celebration it will be. Mike, an investigative reporter at the Birmingham News and Al.com and across America, was deadly serious when the news world demanded (or when draining three-pointers in your face). But he was joyous and he spread that joy. Anything dedicated to him usually turns into a party with family, storytelling, basketball, jokes, and one of the loves of his life, music. His My Vinyl Countdown blog, now in book form, is an all-too-cognizant race to review his almost 700 albums before dying. (“Vinyl” sounds like “final,” not by accident. Again, dark humor.) Somehow he succeeded even as his faculties failed, a testament to the writing ability he’d honed for so many years, his discipline, his deep love of music, and his desire to use whatever he could – including his own death sentence – to share knowledge that might help people and bring them together. Mike did and still does wring help, joy, and hope out of heartbreak.
So, fittingly, on Saturday, Mike Madness will feature charity basketball from 9 a.m. to noon at UAB Rec and then live eclectic music and other fun at the afterparty at Trim Tab from 1 p.m. to 5 p.m. … or whenever.
I didn’t check in on Mike or his wonderful family as often as I should have. Don’t be like me. Be like Mike: Do what you can while you can. Don’t have regrets. If you’re even thinking about lacing them up to join the tournament or the three-point contest or making a donation through the event website, or just coming to hang with some great people at the afterparty, do it. Just do it. You’ll be glad you did. And a lot of other good people will be, too. You might even meet someone like Mike. Well, I mean, there’s no one like Mike, but you might meet someone you’ll be thankful you knew.
Teacher and former journalist Dan Carsen occasionally writes for Alabama Media Group publications, but his most important qualifications for this piece are that he and “Commissioner” Paul Blutter cofounded Birmingham’s Old Man Hoops in 2013, which is how he got to know Mike Oliver, and that he will buy you a beer at the afterparty on Saturday.
The annual Mike Madness basketball tournament benefits Lewy Body Dementia.