An acorn that fell a long, long way from the tree

Anyone who remembers the father would barely recognize the son.

The late Robert Irsay was a bully, loud and meddlesome to a fault. Those qualities made him one of the NFL’s more inept owners and arguably its most reviled. By comparison, Jim Irsay runs the Colts franchise the way the Dalai Lama might.

Stories abound about the kid who struggled not just to avoid repeating the sins of his father, but to make amends. One of the better-known tales dates to the mid-1960s when the Colts, then located in Baltimore, lost a preseason game in Detroit. Robert Irsay swept through the locker room afterward like an angry storm, berating the players and threatening to fire everyone. As they boarded the bus, there stood 16-year-old Jim, apologizing to each for his father’s outburst.

“You know how people say the acorn never falls far from the tree?” retired longtime NFL executive Gil Brandt said. “Well, in this case, the acorn wound up a long, long way away.”

Some 30 years would pass before Jim got to do things his way, assuming day-to-day control of the team only after his father suffered a stroke in 1995. After serving an apprenticeship that scattered him to nearly every corner of the organization — ball boy, ticket taker, scout and general manager — it’s hardly an exaggeration to say he hit the ground running.

“It was kind of like growing up in the circus,” Irsay said earlier this week, as the Colts racheted up preparations for their second Super Bowl appearance in the last four years. “It was just part of my life. I never really wanted to be anywhere else. There was never anything else that crossed my mind.”

Irsay’s stewardship reflects plenty of time listening and talking only so much. He served on a range of NFL committees, then hired the smartest football guy he could find, Bill Polian, and made him the Colts president in January 1998. Later that year, Indianapolis used the first pick overall to select Tennessee quarterback Peyton Manning in the draft — ahead of Washington State passer Ryan Leaf — a decision largely attributed to Polian’s acumen.

Not so well known is that before that move was finalized, Irsay sent his private jet to Knoxville to pick Manning up and deliver him to Miami, where the owner had a banquet laid out and questions he wanted answered in person. Between bites of seafood and conversation that likely ranged from Bob Lilly to Bob Dylan, Manning saw for himself the balance those who know Irsay believe might be his best quality.

“I’d describe him as artistic, probably not what you would consider a typical NFL owner,” Indianapolis center Jeff Saturday said. “He has a love of music, of poetry, and he makes sure that people know that. He doesn’t back down from that. He’s not afraid to express it.”

Afraid?

Irsay owns guitars that once belonged to Elvis Presley, George Harrison, Jerry Garcia and Keith Richards, the last one sharing space in his office with the Lombardi Trophy the Colts brought back to Indianapolis after beating the Chicago Bears in the 2007 Super Bowl. He counts John Mellencamp and Stephen Stills among his pals, and occasionally sits in on jam sessions. In 2001, he shelled out $2.4 million to buy the scroll on which Jack Kerouac wrote the classic beat-generation novel “On the Road.”

It’s those wide-ranging interests that help explain why Irsay’s interviews this week have been sprinkled with epic depictions of winning and losing.

“I’ve said it before: You scratch and claw. You’re 100 feet from the top of Mt. Everest and you know only one person’s going to make it and the other person’s going to fall down to the bottom,” he said.

Yet in the next breath, Irsay can exit a discussion about new-age philosophy and launch into one about salary caps, revenue sharing and the innermost workings of the NFL. Watching Irsay work the room on media day, he was the very picture of a power player: hair slicked back, barrel chest sheathed in a natty charcoal suit, white shirt, silver tie.

Small wonder. It was Irsay’s objection that helped sink a bid by conservative talk-show host Rush Limbaugh to buy into a group bidding for the St. Louis Rams last year. And his influence as a member of the league’s chief executive council may determine whether the game steers clear of a labor stoppage in 2011.

Irsay’s respect among his peers helped Indianapolis land the 2012 Super Bowl. It’s just one way he’s put stakes down in the community, the exact opposite of what Bob Irsay did when he tore the Colts out of Baltimore and moved the franchise to Indianapolis in the dead of night in March 1984.

Whether it’s opening his home to charity functions, or staging a lottery to award five rings from the 2007 Super Bowl championship to fans, the “power of love” Irsay talks about without a hint of embarrassment has flowed back in his direction.

“It was difficult, and support kind of waned. We stayed the course, and it didn’t happen overnight,” he said.

“But once you have greatness,” Irsay added a moment later, “you have a chance to define yourself and what you’re about.”

Jim Litke is a national sports columnist for The Associated Press. Write to him at jlitke (at) ap.org