Those Guys Have All the Fun - James Andrew Miller [45]
I didn’t confront Bill because I knew that if I did, there would be no more relationship, and I felt that at some point he and I were going to be all that’s left of the family. For a long time, I made it a point to call him every year just to tell him he has a brother, and in more recent times, I’ve called him more often because he’s getting older and I have a little more knowledge than he does in certain areas that can be beneficial to him. Basically it boils down to I’ve forgiven him, but he can’t forgive me for knowing that he did these things.
Years later, members of the Rasmussen clan would cash in big on their initial investment in ESPN. The family had originally invested a total of $39,000. Bill individually put up $9,000 (on a credit card), and thereby owned 12.32 percent of ESPN until cash-out time came around. But when the hour arrived for the cutting of the big fat check, at least nine claims had been filed representing other parties’ interests, most of them banks, who sought to recover money loaned to Scott or Bill Rasmussen. The final Rasmussen payout would reach a total of $3,414,866.51—not bad for a thirty-nine-grand investment, and according to Bill Rasmussen, an obscure IRS tax law led the family to receive even larger sums in a second payout roughly two years later. Nevertheless, Don Rasmussen was none too pleased with his allocation. Years of pre-payout strong-arming by brother Bill meant that as early as December of 1978, Don had effectively lost control of his 2 percent stake. When that $3,414,866.51 check arrived, Don’s share was a mere $403,337.
And just like that, the Rasmussens were no more at ESPN.
GEORGE BODENHEIMER, President:
I wrote a letter to Jim Dullaghan about a job, and he said, “Sure, come on up.” He walked me down to the head of human resources at ESPN, Barry Black, who literally interviewed me without looking up. I had an economics degree from a good-standing university in Ohio—Denison—and he looked at my résumé and said I was qualified to be a driver. Then he asked me if I would mind shoveling snow. I said, “Not if you tell me where you keep your shovel.”
My dad and I went out that night to a very famous restaurant in Greenwich called the Clam Box. We had some beer and clam chowder and he gave me some great advice that I always mention to kids looking for work. He said, “If you think the sports-television business would be a good career, then if they call you, you should accept the job. It doesn’t matter what the pay is or what the job is. You should make a career decision, not a money decision.” So we agreed there at the bar at the Clam Box that if ESPN called with an offer for a driver position, I would take it. Ten days later, they called.
One of the big parts of the driver job at Bristol in those days—and I’m not sure if it’s still that way—was you were constantly making two or three trips a day to the Hartford Airport, not only to pick up Federal Express packages, which had our programming, like tape-delayed college football, but you were also driving talent, executives, and producers back and forth to the airport. I quickly figured out this was a great opportunity because I had you for forty minutes in my car. I remember I would really pepper executives and talent about what they did and if they liked their jobs.
I was also in the mail room, which once again ended up being a fantastic opportunity for me. As someone in charge of delivering the mail, moving boxes, or whatever else needed to be done, I had an opportunity to meet everybody. I never had trouble mixing up with new people, so, for me, it was actually a magnificent opportunity to learn what they did. There was zero formality, and there were about 150 people here at the time.
DICK VITALE:
George Bodenheimer was my driver, and he used to pick me up at the airport all the time. Even for such a young guy, there was something great about him.