How Tim Duncan, a Shotgun and a Gas Mask Made My Dad Quit

Rick Hill
5 min readAug 29, 2020

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For Father’s Day in 2018, I picked up my 75-year-old Dad in St. Louis so we could drive to the College World Series in Omaha.

The atmosphere and exciting on-the-field action were highlights of this bucket list trip. But not even the foul ball we caught will be as memorable as the conversations I taped during our six hour car ride.

While I knew he played baseball at Wake Forest University, I was surprised to learn he was also on the tennis and cross country teams.

My Dad’s love of Wake Forest figured prominently in his response to one of my questions: “Why did you leave Anheuser-Busch after such a long career?”

His answer:

Anheuser-Busch was a great company to work for, especially during my tenure. When I started in 1974, the company had 18% market share, slightly behind Miller. I was part of a crop of new MBA hires that worked hard and took advantage of the resources we were given.

By the time I started contemplating my exit from AB, we had a dominant 48% market share.

The thing that convinced me to leave involved the time Wake Forest basketball played at Missouri.

When the 1996–97 schedule came out, I was excited to see alma mater had a Sunday afternoon game in February against Missouri in Columbia. Not wanting to miss my chance to see Tim Duncan play his senior year, I immediately called Wake Forest for tickets.

Their ticket office told me they couldn’t help with a road game, but they gave me a contact at Mizzou who advised me that single games would go on sale September 1. So I waited the four months and called that morning and was able to buy general admission tickets.

I then reached out to Bud Sports, our sports marketing group, to ask about tickets as I knew we were a sponsor of Mizzou. They said they probably would be able to assist, but I needed to check back closer to the game. I called back every two weeks and was told the same thing: “We are not ready to allocate tickets but keep checking.”

The week of the game better tickets hadn’t come available. I was prepared to use the ones I had when I got a call from my boss. He said, “We need you to come immediately to Mexico City for the closing of a brewery we are buying, Modelo. You and I are the official signers on the wire transfer. There is a fear if I’m kidnapped or killed before it closes we’d need you as a back-up.”

Knowing I would miss the game, I asked Mom to give the tickets away to someone at church and flew down to Mexico. Anheuser-Busch had rented a six-bedroom house for everyone involved with the deal so I took my clothes up to my room. In the closet hanging on the hooks, I saw a gas mask and a shotgun.

I came down and told our group “You won’t believe what was in my closet.” They correctly guesses because everyone had the same masks and guns in case we got attacked. The next day my boss and I each left in separate bulletproof limousines at different times along different routes.

When we arrived at the bank handling the closing, I stayed in the limo while a bodyguard waved me in after making sure the lobby was safe. After he looked in the elevator and gave me the all clear sign, we took it up 30 floors. I waited in a private room and was told they would call if they needed me.

After two hours, they let me know the deal was done and I could go home. I took a flight out the next day.

When I got back to my office, I read the paper about the game I missed. Duncan had 18 points and 20 rebounds leading the #2 ranked Demon Deacons to victory.

Then I checked the messages on my phone. One was from my contact at Bud Sports: “Hey Rick, great news. I have your tickets to the game tomorrow. They are right behind the Missouri bench. Enjoy the game!”

The harrowing trip to Mexico City and the missed game were the catalysts that prompted my resignation later that year from Anheuser-Busch at the age of 55.

As my Dad finished his story, I retold him about the time he joined me at a San Antonio Spurs employee event the same Spring of this Mexico City trip. When I introduced him to Gregg Popovich, Dad asked who the Spurs would be taking with the #1 pick in the upcoming NBA Draft. Pop turned the tables on him and asked who my Dad would pick.

Even though my Dad never got to see Tim Duncan play in person his senior year, he had the confidence to tell Pop that the two-time National Player of the Year and consensus #1 pick “would be a solid pro player.” Pop smiled and replied “He’s on our radar.”

Of course, Tim became a perennial All-Star, five-time NBA Champion and future Hall of Famer. My Dad had a solid second career as well, this time as a financial planner. This month he celebrated the 15th anniversary of the company he and his partner co-founded: Hill Investment Group.

Luckily my Dad also got the chance to see his favorite Wake Forest player of all-time in person. After the Spurs won the Western Conference in 2014, I had the opportunity to buy a pair of tickets to the NBA Finals. I chose Game #5 which turned out to be one were the Spurs clinched the title over the Miami Heat. While it wasn’t a close game, I’ve never seen my Dad so excited.

I recently listened to the recordings from our talk on the drive to the College World Series. They ended with my Dad reflecting that “You make a lot of decisions in your life. Many are small and some are large, but you hope looking back that they bring positive feelings and many smiles. And in my case, they do.”

It’s strange how hard it can be to have serious conversations. I’m appreciative that we made the effort to record the talk on our drive and the valuable life lessons my Dad continues to teach me. I’m also reminded to keep being inquisitive and take advantage of any time you have with loved ones.

Thanks, Dad.

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Rick Hill
Rick Hill

Written by Rick Hill

Rick spent six years working at the San Antonio Spurs. He is now VP of Marketing at the Valero Alamo Bowl and an adjunct professor at Trinity University.

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