PORTLAND, Ore. — After his first game as owner of the Portland Trail Blazers, Tom Dundon stood in the shadows of a doorway inside Portland’s locker room, away from the glow of the season’s best victory.
It probably wasn’t until general manager Joe Cronin, standing in the middle of the locker room, turned and presented Dundon with the game ball that anyone realized Dundon was there.
Then, something notable happened. The man with the bravado and braggadocio the size of his home state of Texas, had a little trouble with his words. He was choked up with emotion.
He said he was moved because the Blazers had played with so much effort, passion and precision in the biggest game of the season: a 114-104 win over the LA Clippers that brought Portland to within a half-game of LA for eighth place in the Western Conference. Before the game, he gave a short address to the team, telling them the standard would be raised and a commitment to excellence would be expected.
Sure, it was probably a coincidence that the Blazers played their best game of the season, but there was something about the spirit in which they played that penetrated the 54-year-old owner.
“I really appreciate when I see that kind of effort,’’ Dundon said. “And that’s all I want. We lose, and it looks like that, I’ll be happy … so I think that’s the reason I felt that way.’’
I present this scene because it shows a side of Dundon that is in direct contrast to my initial encounter with him before the game, when he was an almost robotic wrecking ball of confidence, devoid of any emotional depth. He was intense, conceited and had some dismissive tones about Portland.
Then on Thursday, during a 30-minute introductory news conference in Portland, Dundon again presented a conflicting image. He was charming. Relaxed. Engaging. He was, dare I say … likable?
However, he was also evasive about sticky questions regarding his insistence on getting public funding to improve the Moda Center. His track record shows he will fight to get what he wants, and in Portland, he wants $600 million of our money to help enhance his playground. A playground, mind you, that he doesn’t want to pay rent on, or be penalized for if he picks up his ball and takes the franchise elsewhere.
His tone borders on telling Portlanders and Oregonians that we should be thankful he bought the Blazers. He said if he receives the $600 million from state and local governments, he will sign a 20-year lease.
“And that commitment’s worth way more than anything else anybody’s gonna do,’’ he told me in Los Angeles.
In every other NBA city where the public owns the building, the team pays rent. And no other NBA team has a shorter lease than 20 years. Dundon told me earlier this week he thought 20 years with this market was enough currency to bring to the table.
I countered that historically, NBA owners brought some form of monetary commitment to their arena renovations, as well as lease commitments longer than 20 years.
“In Portland?’’ Dundon said.
And there’s the rub. Dundon can be amazing for the Blazers’ culture. He is clearly driven. He disdains anything ordinary. It’s win or be replaced. His guiding philosophy in team building is “our job is to find somebody better than you. Your job is to make sure that person doesn’t exist.’’ The Blazers have been lacking in this kind of intensity and expectation. Heck, Cronin was hired without the team interviewing another candidate! How is that a model of excellence?
Yet, while I embrace Dundon’s competitive spirit and dogged pursuit of excellence, as a Portlander and an Oregonian, I remain wary.
He has had multiple chances to tell us that he intends to keep the Blazers in Portland … and he won’t. He has had multiple chances to assure us that his insistence on the $600 million in funding is not a situation he is holding the franchise’s future hostage … and he won’t. And he has had multiple opportunities to be a partner with us in this venture … to pay rent on the arena, to pay some of the construction, to put some — any — of his money to the improvements … and he won’t.
It’s why I asked him Thursday why he won’t put his own skin in the game.
“No one has ever told me I didn’t have skin in the game before,’’ Dundon said. “We don’t know each other very well. Look, we’re going to negotiate and do a larger deal, and they should do a deal — the people who represent the city and county, your tax dollars — that is great for them. And I’m going to try and do the same for the Trail Blazers.
“We’re going to get a market deal and be fully committed to it, but the form and structure of that? There is a lot of work to do to figure out what that is.’’
Perhaps it’s fitting that he has taken over the Trail Blazers in the most capricious of weather months in Portland.
One minute, it is sunshine: he vows to pursue superstar players, and promises that money will first be funneled to upgrade the roster. And he is fixated on the fan experience, like exploring ways to better traffic flow leaving games and the quality of concessions.
However, the next minute, it’s chilling rain: I’ve never gotten the sense he cares one iota about Portland, the city. He said he bought the Blazers because it was the only NBA team for sale. This comes across as a transaction, an object to generate profit or loss. The good news is he has some checks and balances in the form of team’s Alternate Governors: Sheel Tyle, who lives in the Portland area, and Andrew Cherng, who owns Panda Express, will have a voice. Tyle says he loves Portland and will fight for it; Cherng is Chinese and knows the NBA popularity in China, and said he is intrigued by the Blazers’ Chinese rookie center Yang Hansen.
So as I envision the Blazers’ future, I don’t know whether to put on sunscreen or grab an umbrella. Thursday — and the locker-room scene Tuesday — at least showed that he is more human than machine. I asked him whether he cared if he was liked.
“On the list of things I care about, it’s lower,’’ Dundon said. “But, yeah. I think anybody who says they don’t care what people think isn’t telling the truth, right? But I think I care more about my character than my reputation. I know what I do every day, and I want to win and achieve things without hurting anybody. There’s nothing about me that doesn’t want to do the right thing.’’
It brought me back to the first day I met Dundon, in Los Angeles on Tuesday. He spent much of his time before the game with Clippers owner Steve Ballmer. They met in an enclosed room for 45 minutes, then Ballmer escorted him to the Clippers locker room for a tour. Later, I asked Dundon if he gleaned anything from Ballmer. He said his biggest takeaway was Ballmer’s humanity and kindness.
“I’m always impressed by people in his position in the world, and how they still treat people the way he treated me and the others in our group,’’ Dundon said. “He was just a genuinely nice person.’’
His acknowledgement of grace and kindness gave me hope there is something greater in Dundon than a win-at-all-costs bully. And his emotion in the Blazers locker room gives me hope that he sees the people who work for him as more than just cogs.
I’m hoping for sunny days ahead. But I’m going to keep my umbrella handy.