Remembering Furman Bisher

I have two books on my night stand. Both are sources of inspiration. One is Bill Curry’s Ten Men You Meet in the Huddle, an account of leadership lessons learned by the former NFL All-Pro and now Georgia State head football coach.

The other book is The Furman Bisher Collection. It offers inspiration of a different kind for Furman Bisher was the writer we would all like to be.  Furman passed away over the weekend at age 93, but the retired Atlanta Journal-Constitution sports columnist leaves with us a treasure trove of magnificent stories on everything from baseball to weightlifting to a very personal memoir on the passing of his mother.

Furman is among a handful of the greatest sportswriters of all time. He ranks up there with the likes of Ring Lardner, Grantland Rice, and Red Smith—all with New York papers— Shirley Povich of the Washington Post, Hal Lebovitz of the Cleveland Plain Dealer, Joe Falls of the Detroit Free Press and Jim Murray of the L.A. Times.

I had the pleasure of being with Furman numerous times over the past seven years in press boxes, lockers rooms, and the dugout at Turner Field. He was truly a great writer but also a wonderfully warm human being. He treasured the little chateau in the woods that he shared with his bride Lynda. I can remember him often coming to the stadium to grab an interview during batting practice and then heading home so he could have his evening cocktail with Lynda.

Furman was very much the traditionalist. He was not a fan of wild cards and designated hitters and instant replays. He hated the noise at Phillips Arena during Hawks games. He loved the beauty of golf and was planning to cover the Masters again in 2012. I remember once having to explain to Furman what a half pipe was—a term used in extreme sports, something he didn’t quite “cotton to.”

Furman never learned to type. He would hunt and peck using just his forefingers, which moved across the keyboard at the speed of light. It is said he wrote his last column for the Atlanta Journal-Constitution in 2009 on the same typewriter he used when he started as a reporter at the Atlanta Journal in 1950. At the urging of his stepdaughter, Furman took a leap into the high tech world after his retirement, writing a blog titled Bisher Unleashed. His last post was January 16 of this year.

It may sound trite, but it really made me feel good when Furman started to remember my name. We became friends of sorts and the thought that I was on a first name basis with a journalistic icon—one I grew up reading in Sport magazine and other national publications—was quite an honor.  

Lewis Grizzard, who like Furman was another brilliant AJC writer and author, penned the introduction to the Bisher collection.  In it he says that Furman “was profoundly different from most of the other sportswriters I read. He had a way. A style.  He stood back from the tumult and shouting and found truth and real meanings. The words from other writers marched drone-like.  Furman’s danced.”

I highly recommend that you pick up a copy of The Furman Bisher Collection. If you are too young to remember Furman in his prime, you’re in for a real treat. If you read him throughout the years you’ll enjoy the trip down memory lane. Either way, as Grizzard said.” If you read the book you will be reading journalism at its best. “

Furman you will be missed. Selah my friend.