The Len Bias mail has been absolutely fascinating. If you want a snapshot of cocaine use in the ’80s or of the impact Bias had on folks, check out some of this.
(First–the only negative notes I got were from people saying that Jackie Robinson was more influential than Bias. There’s an argument, but not according to the logic I used. Further, it’s not like Robinson was the first black person good enough to play in the big leagues. Branch Rickey was just the first person courageous enough to let a black man play in the bigs.)
This one’s from Paul in Connecticut.

During my last semester in MBA School at UNC Chapel Hill, I had the pleasure of watching Len Bias’ final game at the Dean Dome. We had scored court-level seats just behind the basket, and it was amazing to watch this chiseled figure single-handedly dampen Carolina’s home finale with medium-range jumpers, powerful moves to the hoop and gravity-defying rebounds.
I distinctly remember reading about Len Bias’ death that summer of 1986 — being saddened by the loss and worried about the fates of my undergraduate friends who were immersed in a recreational cocaine culture that existed at UNC. While I was only four years older, I felt like I was a generation away fearing that other promising “young” people might recklessly throw it all away.
I was glad that I came across your article today — and intrigued by your thoughts that Len Bias’ tragic death had left an indelible mark on campus culture.

From Carla in Champaign.

I have just read your article on Len Bias and was moved. I was a junior in high school when he died and for years I have made reference to him when people have asked me to “go skiing” or “try some snow”. I always told them I was not going to be a Len Bias and have my mama bury me knowing I died from cocaine. It’s funny how our generation identifies with him. In working with my athletes, I refer to him consistently when needing an example of how one decision can literally alter your life. Interestingly enough, many of them have no idea who he is or have only vague notions that he really existed. Thank you for writing about him. With your permission, I would like to print your article and share it with my student-athletes.
By the way, in a “former life” I was a teacher at a rather distinguished East Coast prep school. Mr. Gregg’s children were students at the school. Being from Philly you have a hard time being a Phillies fan, but Mr. Gregg at least made me smile as he came to school functions and I expressed my frustration over the Phillies. His kids were great too! You can tell they were being raised right. I’m glad to see you were able to reflect and learn from your previous stance on Mr. Gregg.

From Matthew, and I post this just for my own ego.

Wow, this is one of the greatest pieces of journalistic material I’ve ever
had the pleasure of reading. I’ve read hordes of sports articles, books,
etc. over the years, including, “Never Too Young To Die. The Len Bias
Story.”
I’m just blown away by this article. Wow, unbelievable. I’ll be looking
for more of your stuff. Wish I had more time to discuss this w/ you.

From Corey in Boston

When I saw the tag line, I thought it was a joke. I was wrong.
This was a powerful piece of writing man. I was only 8 yrs old in ’86, so I didn’t hear a whole lot about this when it happened. I did hear the jokes a few years later though. I also didn’t realize that Bias was probably the reason Coke wasn’t mainstream by the time I was “experimenting”, and for this I am forever grateful. Just as Len’s death marked the beginning of the end for the C’s, it did the same for the BIG C. Cocaine has made a few mini comebacks since then, but it has too dirty an image now to catch on like it did in the 80’s. When I was a teenager I knew that coke could kill you, that it would make you steal from your mother, and that it left you as a shell of the person you were. So even though I made some pretty stupid decisions, I was never THAT stupid. I never knew it but I guess I have Bias to thank for that, and you for pointing it out.

I post this one from Michael, simply because I’m blown away that white people need to explain their whiteness when stating they were affected by a black person. Never gonna get that one.

As a young white male you would think that I may have never heard of Len Bias, but I have and I agree with you article. I have had my own bout with this drug and I came out a winner. No, Im not bragging but just stating that my addiction was beaten by remembering Len Bias. I hope more people out there get to hear what happened because it seem that blow is starting to be “cool” again. They say if you dont learn about history it is doomed to repeat itself. So I thank you for putting this story back out where people my age and younger can actually see what this drug can do.
Once again I thanks you for this article, may it touch and help rescue many other out there.

From Ben, not to be confused with the former Red Stripe Reader of the Month.

it was the summer before my senior year at college park. and you’re right; coke was everywhere with anyone. nasty stuff. the “culture” that evolved from it was different than the other party choices. people hoarded it like bread during the depression. counted grains. during my junior year a guy who worked on campus, but not a student, came up from S.E. to turn me on to crack. it was too much, but coke wasn’t. but then that summer lenny died and my eyes opened. real big. the previous winter he WAS maryland basketball. in 6 months he was the coke poster child – in a casket. a lot of us did learn from his death.

From Aaron.

I am sure you have received many of these emails over the recent days, but I had to share my own Len Bias story.
In June of 1986 I was 13 years old, growing up in Blue Heaven…otherwise known as Chapel Hill, North Carolina. I had been a Jordan fan since his first minutes at UNC, and being a Carolina season ticket holder, had the privilege to see the greats of the ACC lace ‘um up from the late seventies on through Jordan’s tenure and Len Bias’ ascendancy to legend status. I loved Jordan, even more so after he helped the Heels to the 82 National Championship, but I was awed by Bias. He was the one player from rival teams that you simply could not hate.
Being 13, middle class and white, and living in Chapel Hill in the mid-80’s was was an interesting experience. On the one hand my friends and I were isolated from what we perceived as “big city” issues like violent crime and abject poverty, while at the same time we were part of a youth culture that was beginning to use and abuse “recreational” substances, like alcohol, grass, psychedelics and “harder” drugs, like cocaine, at ever earlier ages. I recall my first “drunk” happening around this time, and in retrospect, I’m sure coke was not far behind.
But then, as has been chronicled many times over the years, the trajedy that was Len Bias’ death occurred. I remember the day, the instant, I saw the news story come across the television…and I remember saying that I would never, ever use cocaine. If it could kill a physical marvel like the great Len Bias, it could certainly kill me was my thinking.
Over the years following Bias’ death I continued to make choices that were in many instances unwise. I drank too much, smoked too much, drove too fast, and and put a number of substances in my body that were not healthy…but I never touched coke. I watched friends use, I turned down many opportunities to use myself in situations that took resisting a lot of peer pressure, but I resisted, always remembering Bias.
I am probably lucky to be alive today for many reasons, but I will always credit Len Bias for keeping me away from one of our country’s most lethal and destructive forces.
Thanks for keeping his memory alive.

From Craig.

Your article on the impact of len bias was amazing. Im a 17 at a Maryland High School and i wrote a 5 page essay on the impact of his death. I had to explain to many who he was and why the impact of his death was the reason i titled the paper “The End Of 80’s Excess”. Many in the class never heard his story and i hoped my paper could explain it to those who didnt know much like your article did.
P.S I keep the UMD 34 jersey my dad bought when he was in College in my closet at all times.

From Avery.

I have never felt compelled to respond to an internet columnist before, no matter how well-written the article or how much I agreed or disagreed. I have to say this, though. Your column on the death of Len Bias was heartbreaking and absolutely true.
I was a good girl, did well in school, probably would never have touched drugs anyway. But nothing Nancy Reagan, ABC after school specials, or anti-drug ads ever said slammed home the danger of drugs like Bias’ death.
I was 15 in 1986 but certainly not a Bias fan. I grew up in North Carolina and graduated from UNC. I sat in my living room in February 1986 and watched him destroy my Tar Heels in OT by himself. I try to describe that game to sports fans who aren’t old enough to remember it and I can never get it right. We had just finished the Jordan years and I’d never seen anything like it. Honestly, I still haven’t.
Hearing on the radio that he was dead is just as impossible to describe.
We can mourn for what Bias dying meant for sports but can you even imagine what life must be like for his parents? To lose one son because of a stupid decision, another because of stupid violence. I can’t imagine how they make it through the day.

The most touching of all is from Arnoldo.

I was reading your story, a marvelous piece. After reading, I flash back to my youth, remembering the day that happen and how I felt. It was a feeling that would not ever go away. I bring this up, because my spouse and I were having a conversation about our youth and her drug use when she was younger. Cocaine was her drug of choice and when I asked her if it was offered to her free, would she every do it again? She told me she could not honestly say no, because how she remembers it made her feel invincible and that she could do anything and the burst of energy she would get. After her response, I thought of Len Bias and the feeling I got when he passed away, but it was amplified, because this was someone I wanted too spend the rest of my life with and would never want it cut short, especially by a drug. Therefore, I forwarded your story onto her and said, “Do you want to be remembered for what you did and who you were or for who you could have been or what you could have done?”
Thank you for your piece.

Thanks for the notes.