Craig Sager Rumors
Popovich attended Sager’s funeral wearing a paisley tie that the late sideline reporter surely would have approved of — after all he was known for his colorful outfits. Then, when he coached his team later that night, he wore the tie as well. He gave it to the younger Sager on Sunday — who later wrote on Twitter that he was “speechless.”
A collection of Craig Sager-themed pins will go on sale Thursday at Foot Locker, with all net proceeds benefiting the SagerStrong Foundation. Sager and his wife, Stacy, partnered with Foot Locker on the PINTRILL pin pack a few months ago, and Stacy felt the project should move forward after the popular sideline reporter died of leukemia on Dec. 15. “Each of the pins reflects Craig’s vivacious personality, unstoppable spirit and passion for life,” Stacy said in a statement. “They are a fitting tribute to his memory, and I know that Craig would want nothing more than to find a cure for cancer.”
Kacy Sager: “Professional.” That’s another one I keep hearing. I know he was good at his job, but I’m not sure he was professional as much as he just created a career for himself in which he LOOKED professional. He didn’t get to the top of his field with intense ambition to climb some ladder; he got to the top because he just kinda did what he wanted to do and no one ever really stopped him. His career began when he jumped onto the field while home run #715 was still in the air and caught up with Hank rounding third. Not only did no one tackle him, but they let him do the damn interview! In one of the biggest moments in the history of baseball. His sister Candy was watching the game at a bar, and no one believed her when she said that was her baby brother.
“He must have been an amazing father.” I mean, yeah, he was a good dad. But he was a better wingman. Back in the day, my go-to first date move was to take a guy to a game with me and my dad and see if he could hang. My sophomore year at Georgia Tech, I was dating a football player and we met my dad at a Braves game. He asked him what position he played, and when he told him he was a linebacker, my dad asked “Oh, have you tackled my daughter yet?”
But enough about cancer. It’s a buzzkill, and there’s nothing my dad hated more than a buzzkill. I think what endeared him to so many people was that you were always kinda laughing at him and with him at the same time. So let’s remember the care-free, overgrown frat boy who would do anything for a story. Maybe scale back on some of this reverence and silly notion that he was some kind of saint, because there’s no reason to apologize for a man whose defining quality was that he was always unapologetically himself.