Contrary to his flamboyant public persona, Reggie Miller is actually a shy, disciplined man
Not Always 'Miller Time'
By Mark Montieth

"Reggie, you're the greatest actor in the NBA!"

Fans are yelling at Reggie Miller. These fans happen to be sitting in the MCI Center in Washington, but they could as easily be sitting in any of the 28 arenas the Indiana Pacers visit.


From the February 2001 issue of Hoop magazine. Call 1-800-769-8843 to subscribe.
Reggie Miller, favorite target of NBA fans across the United States and Canada, does not respond. He's heard it all before. And he likes it. Loves it, actually. He hopes fans yell things at him, and in fact does things on the court to get them to yell at him.

You've probably noticed. Chirping at referees, even after he draws a foul. Clapping after what he perceives to be a bad call from an official, trying to get a technical foul. Glaring at front-row spectators after hitting a three-pointer. And once, in a moment memorialized by incessant replays around playoff time, wrapping his fingers around his neck and staring at Spike Lee to let him know the Knicks were choking.

Fans see these things and assume Miller's cocky, selfish, shallow and immature. What they might not know is that yes, Miller is acting. Like the villain in the professional wrestling ring, the trash-talking, flamboyant performer is one person; the man outside the spotlight is another person.

"You've got to be a bad guy," Miller said. "Good guys finish last, I really do believe that. But I'm two different people. When I'm on stage I'm into all of that. Away from it I have to ground myself. I'd drive myself crazy if I lived like that."

"Hey, it's Mr. California himself!"

Miller was born and raised in Riverside, Calif., and went to college in Los Angeles at UCLA. But off the court he's more Mr. Midwest -- the product of a stable and loving family, with values that contradict the image of the emotional performer who titled his book I Love Being the Enemy. The "bad guy" is, in real life, a shy, educated, disciplined, hardworking and charitable man who reflects his upbringing.

Miller's paternal grandfather, L.E. Miller, was founder and pastor of New Hope Missionary Baptist Church in Memphis, Tenn., built 84 years ago, and was treasurer of the National Baptist Convention.

His father, Saul Miller, was a career military man, a Chief Master Sergeant in the Air Force. Saul and Reggie's mother, Carrie, raised five successful children in a household that was a real-life version of a 1950s television sitcom.

Each kid had chores. They ate dinner together every night at 5:40 p.m. They went to church every Sunday. They were spanked for the more serious transgressions, but they were allowed the freedom to be themselves, and they always were encouraged. Father knew best in this household, although Mother's role was as great.

"The man is the head of the household," Saul Miller Sr. said. "If a decision had to be made, I didn't run into the corner and wait for someone else to make it."

The result of Saul and Carrie's handiwork is obvious. The oldest child, Saul Jr., is a standout saxophone player in a Washington, D.C., jazz band that regularly performs at the White House. Darrell was a catcher for the California Angels. Cheryl was one of the best women basketball players in history, a member of the 1984 U.S. Olympic team and the former coach and general manager of the WNBA Phoenix Mercury. Tammy, the youngest Miller, played volleyball at Cal-State Fullerton.

It's not surprising, then, that Reggie has achieved stability in his basketball career. Now in his 14th season with the Pacers, he ranks behind only Utah's John Stockton and Karl Malone and Houston's Hakeem Olajuwon for the longest tenure with the same team among active players. Having signed a three-year contract last summer, he should reach 16 seasons before retiring.

One team, and only one team -- it's a major point of pride for Miller. He wasn't sure what to expect when he was drafted by the Pacers with the 11th pick in the 1987 draft, but the Californian has found a happy home amid the cornfields of central Indiana. He's had opportunities to leave, particularly after his rookie contract expired and the hometown Lakers beckoned, but he's stayed put.

Still seeking his first championship, he has no regrets. "I have one sense of identity," Miller said. "My roots are here. It's good for the game and good for the league, that little kids grow up knowing certain players played for one team their whole career."


Despite the shades, the spotlight is never too bright for Miller
Andrew D. Bernstein/NBAE Photos
"Man, your sister plays better than you, Reggie!"

Miller has battled obstacles and comparisons most of his life. He was born with a hip problem that required him to wear heavy braces on his legs for four years. He had to compete to keep up with his older siblings, athletically and otherwise, and the formative years of his basketball career were spent in the shadow of Cheryl, who is 19 months older.

The classic story is of the night Reggie came home from his high school game filled with pride over his 39-point performance -- only to find out that Cheryl had scored 105 that same evening. Reggie battled Cheryl and their older brothers in pick-up games in the driveway. He developed his deadly outside shot so that he could score on his bigger siblings, and he developed his competitive instinct as a means of survival.

"I usually had to guard Cheryl, and Cheryl used to just destroy me," Reggie recalled.

Reggie's ability to thrive amid adversity in road games was honed during his career at UCLA, where opposing fans baited him with derisive chants of "Cher-ryl!" at nearly every stop. It's still a favorite of NBA fans. It happens to be a favorite of Reggie's, too.

"I love it," he said. "The Reg-gies, the Cher-ryls, whatever. It's fuel for the fire. I love it. You've got to understand what it was like being in Cheryl's shadow growing up. Cheryl was everything in Southern California. I was always having to fight through it, and it almost became second nature to hear people chant her name. I never played well at home because I never heard that. I always played better on the road. It's not my nature to be a homer; I just can't do it."

Sometimes Miller's effort to stir things up with the opposing fans brings out actions or words that don't meet with the approval of his father, who is a deacon at Riverside Baptist, a 10,000-member church.

"Sometimes he might say a word that isn't quite English," Saul Sr. said. "People will rib me about it and I'm a little self-conscious about something that isn't Christian."

But the father sees the motive of his son's actions.

"He likes to divert attention from the rest of the team and put it on himself," he said. "I'm glad he's got a sense of competitiveness."

"Boy, it must be rough playing with Reggie."

Actually, it's not. Miller has had near-unanimous respect from his teammates and coaches. That's a prerequisite for playing 14 seasons for one franchise. Miller hasn't loved all of the coaches he's had with the Pacers, three of whom were fired, but he's never been outwardly disrespectful or complained to management about any of them.

He's had particularly strong relationships with the last two, Larry Bird and Isiah Thomas. For them, he was as eager to please as a rookie trying to make the team. He was honored by Bird's presence three years ago, and when training camp began this season he talked enthusiastically of wanting to make Thomas at least as successful as Bird had been.

Bird and Thomas, in turn, have had nothing but praise for Miller because of his daily effort in practice and games and his willingness to accept coaching Asked often during his rookie coaching season what surprises he had encountered, Bird pointed out Miller's daily level of effort in practice. Thomas, asked at the end of his first training camp for the highlights of the weeklong workouts replied simply, "Reggie Miller. He's a pro."


"When I'm on stage I'm into all of that. Away from it I have to ground myself. I'd drive myself crazy if I lived like that."
Ron Hoskins/NBAE Photos
Miller displayed that better than ever at the end of the final workout of camp, when Thomas put his players through a grueling series of sprints. Only two players touched every line when making the turns, and Miller -- 35 years old and the team's highest-paid player -- was one of them. Afterward, while everyone else was bent over gasping for air, he was cracking jokes.

Miller usually has led by the example of performing his daily chores, but this season he's become more vocal. With longtime teammates Mark Jackson, Dale Davis and Rik Smits gone from the team, Miller has had little choice but to step forward and play the role of older brother. He's been a traffic cop during games, trying to get everyone in the right place, and has been a cheerleader for the younger players, none of whom seem to resent his popularity or success.

The work ethic, however, is the foundation of Miller's position. Austin Croshere, one of the Pacers' most dedicated gym rats, is an early arrival for home games. But he's rarely the first one there.

"By the time I'm out of my car, he's on the court," Croshere said of Miller. "It just shows his dedication. He's got to be the most in-shape 35-year-old in the NBA, with the way he takes care of his body and the way he works out. He's really dedicated himself to the game."

Miller's dedication has allowed him to continue evolving and improving in the final seasons of his career. Embarrassed by his performance in the Eastern Conference Finals in 1999, when the Pacers were eliminated by New York after he hit 3-of-18 shots in Game 6, he rededicated himself. He hired a personal trainer to build his upper body strength, worked on shooting off the dribble, and focused much more intently on defense.

Although his scoring average dropped last season, he played more minutes (2,987) in any season since 1991-92. This season, forced to take on a greater burden by the loss of veteran teammates, he's been a more complete player now than at any time in his career.

"I always feel if I don't work hard, someone out there is doing something more than what I'm doing," he said. "That fear keeps me motivated. That drives me."

Miller's dedication has overridden his personal concerns. Last season he was frustrated by the Pacers' refusal to grant him a contract extension when training camp opened. Bird thought it showed the first day, but no longer. This season he had to deal with the loss of Jackson, whom the Pacers did not re-sign, and Davis, who was traded. They were his closest friends on the team, and he spoke of his frustration when he met with the media the day before camp opened. But the next day, when practice began, he was the most vocal and energetic player on the court.

"He could have come back with a sour attitude, and been very pessimistic," Thomas said. "But he's been nothing but optimistic about the season. He understands there's going to be growing pains and he's willing to live with those."

"Reggie, you should have been a lawyer!"

Fans see Miller's combative side. Few people, however, see his compassionate side, which is how he wants it. Miller has made major financial donations to his childhood church and his grandfather's church in Memphis. He also has his own charitable foundation, with the primary cause of aiding burn victims and others whose lives were disrupted by fire. He adopted that cause after his new house was destroyed by an arsonist in 1997. But he spends most of his charitable time with children, usually on a one-to-one basis. He's a regular visitor to hospitals and schools, often arriving unannounced, and he does his best to keep his efforts private.

Kathy Jordan is the Pacers' Director of Community Relations. It's her job to line up player appearances, and requests are supposed to come through her. She usually finds out about Miller's appearances after the fact, however.

"I don't know how he finds them," she said. "I don't know if it's through his fan mail or people he runs into or what. But there are so many stories. There are so many people he's helped, where he's taken a personal role with someone. People just have no idea of the things he does."

A lot of people don't seem to have a full understanding of the complex character that is Reggie Miller, which is the way he prefers it. But the transplanted Californian who talks the loud talk has quietly come to embody the solid Middle America values of loyalty, hard work and fealty to friends and family.

Not bad, for a "bad guy."

MARK MONTIETH covers the Indiana Pacers for the Indianapolis Star.