Roll With It! Q&A with Former San Jose Rhinos GM and Author Brad Porteus
- Jon Hart
- Mar 13
- 10 min read
It was 1994. Friends debuted. Yahoo came to fruition. Forrest Gump ran into our lives. And... blossoming Deadhead, recent Duke grad, reformed Cameron Crazie Brad Porteus got the opportunity of a lifetime: He was hired to be the General Manager of professional sports team, the San Jose Rhinos, a roller hockey team. In his new memoir, Roll With It, which is also a tribute to 90s culture, Brad humorously recounts his two years at the helm of the Rhinos. It's a fun, behind-the-scenes look into the world of low-level professional sports. On the eve of Roll With It's launch, Brad took a few moments to answer our questions.
STADIUM JOURNEY:
After all these years, what prompted you to finally sit down and write this?
BRAD PORTEUS:
In 1995, I’d journaled a long document, telling every story I could remember. After 2010, I’d moved overseas and lost track of what documents and files I had and where they were. I came to the conclusion that the stories were gone, and my only recourse would be to try to rewrite them. It nagged at me for a while, and I finally realized that the pandemic was the perfect chance for me to do it. My wife and teenagers and I were living in Amsterdam in the Netherlands those years, and I would write at night after my Zoom calls were done for the day. I’d already written a couple of short stories about those years, so I fell into an idea of combining it all into a single manuscript. It was sort of a one-thing-leads-to-another situation. Once I reached a tipping point, there was no turning back.
STADIUM JOURNEY:
You grew up in Palo Alto, before it was douchey, your words, rooting for the Oakland A’s. Any particular memories stand out?
BRAD PORTEUS:
My favorite day ever at the Oakland Coliseum was April 19, 1981 when I was 12 and my older brother Matt was 16. We successfully commandeered my parents’ big green camper van and drove a pile of his friends across the bay to catch an afternoon double-header. Our parents apparently agreed to this 80-mile round caper as long as I came along and brought a friend. It was free Cap Day, and Andrew Fetter and I were determined to get in early and make sure we got one. The bleachers were empty during batting practice - who goes in early for a double header? - and Andrew ended up getting a home run ball during BP. We couldn’t believe our luck in getting to see two games, a free cap and a ball for $3.50. The A’s won the first game, making them 11-0 for the season. The winning streak was snapped in Game 2 though. That was 8 hours sitting in the direct sun. Good thing we had our free caps.
But usually we ended up going to Candlestick, as it was half the driving distance, and all of my friends were Giants fans. One summer during college, we rallied a crew to 2-for-1 night. It was some midweek game and a boring team like the Astros were in town. Bleacher seats were 5 bucks. We parked way out in the back parking lot with lots of space to barbecue and toss the frisbee. The 7:30 pm first pitch meant that it was still nice out, and no one was there for the game anyway. About an hour later, it was finally time to go in. By then, it was the 5th inning, and the box office, which was way out in the boonies by the bleachers, had closed for the night. The security guard said our best bet was to hoof it all the way around to the front of the stadium to the only box office that was still open. It seemed hardly worth it. I had a backpack with layers of clothes - it is Candlestick! - and placed a $5 just inside the top and passed the bag to the guard for inspection. He took the fiver and waved me and Gordon through. Next thing you know, four more backpacks were inspected, and all 10 of us cruised through the turnstiles in time to catch the final innings and belt out our naughty version of "Take Me Out To The Ballgame" during the 7th inning stretch.
STADIUM JOURNEY:
Your parents are Stanford academics. Any thoughts on their mascot? Cal-Stanford, 1982. The Play. Where were you?
BRAD PORTEUS:
Stanford dropped “Indians” as their school mascot in ‘72. In 1975, there was a vote on a new mascot, but the winning name “The Robber Barons” was rejected by then president Donald Kennedy who said the color Cardinal would suffice. The Stanford band, who loved to play covers of songs like “White Punks on Dope,” remained unconvinced, and presented a few options, including a steaming manhole, a French fry and The Tree. Eventually, a funky tree costume was invented. Stanford is in Palo Alto, which translates to “tall tree”. Every year, a new tree mascot is unveiled by the band. However, The Tree is for sure not the official mascot of the University.
“The Play” was a truly huge deal in 1982. CBS showed it just before 60 Minutes that Sunday night, just to make sure everyone in the country saw it. The game was at Berkeley, over an hour away from Stanford, and tickets typically went for more than the rest of the season combined, so I never had plans to go. Instead, a few friends and I met up on the Stanford campus and played ultimate frisbee while listening to the game on a transistor radio. Stanford needed to win because they were a disappointing 5-5, and it was John Elway’s senior year. Elway was a pre-season Heisman candidate. Anyway, they needed a 6th win to be bowl eligible. We stopped playing ultimate to listen to the closing minutes. Down 19-17, Stanford got the ball with 1:27 left at their own 20. Elway converted an excruciating 4th and long, and we excitedly huddled around the radio. By now, our small crew had transformed into a small crowd. The drive culminated with Mark Harmon drilling what we thought was a game winning field goal with 8 seconds left. The Band poured on the field, earning a 15-yard penalty on the kickoff. The agonizing rest is history. Listening to the game on the radio was surreal. Elway’s college career was over. We were robbed. At least two laterals were forward passes.
Fast forward to two months ago, when I attended a book reading by former San Jose Mercury columnist Mark Purdy, who is in Roll With It and contributed a generous author blurb. One of the other attendees revealed himself to be Gary Tyrrell whose trombone was destroyed when Kevin Moen crashed through it on his way to the end zone for the tainted victory. We all had a good laugh.
STADIUM JOURNEY:
You went to Duke in the '80s. Were you living in Krzyzewski-ville? If so, describe. Are you a former Cameron Crazie? By the way, does Krzyzewski-ville still even exist?
BRAD PORTEUS:
My freshman year on Duke campus was 1986, and I was 17 years-old and coming from Stanford where football was major and basketball was relatively minor. That fall, our Duke football team was like 3-3, and we played Maryland for homecoming, which was a pretty important game in my eyes. I was expecting a lot of hype at the football game, but it turned out to be mostly an excuse for alums to day drink belts of Southern Comfort from their flasks, which they kept tucked away in hidden blazer pockets. The much bigger event was actually that Saturday evening, the Blue and White game, the annual, first open basketball practice of the season. When I entered Cameron for the first time, 8,564 fans were going insane for a basketball practice. I was wide-eyed, enlightened and instantly hooked.
This was the year after Duke lost to Louisville in the NCAA finals, Johnny Dawkins’ senior year. That would have been Duke’s first NCAA title, but that elusive first title would have to wait until the year after I graduated. Which is why the Billy McCaffrey episode in Roll With It was so epic, as he’d just weeks before delivered Duke’s first ever title.
When I was at Duke, I lived in a dorm that was a three-minute walk from Cameron Indoor stadium, so we never slept overnight for spots. But there were elaborate methods to check in, retain your place in line, and show IDs for sometimes days before big games. Entrance was free for students with ID. We’d go in early, play UNO, and heckle the opposing players. Because the entire student section was always full for every game two hours before tipoff, it would be intimidating for visiting players to warm up, as they would have to do so under the close watch of about 3,000 smart asses.
I confess to having lost a lot of interest in college hoops now that the cast of characters is new every season. I am old school and like the longer arc of a four-year player journey.
STADIUM JOURNEY:
Even more importantly, does your old hangout, the Old Pro, exist? These days, is there such a thing as a dive bar in Palo Alto?
BRAD PORTEUS:
The dive bar scene is indeed on life-support in Palo Alto. The last holdout was Antonio’s Nuthouse on California Avenue which went under during the pandemic. The original Old Pro closed a long time ago. We call that the "old" Old Pro. The "new" Old Pro opened in downtown Palo Alto in the 2000s and tried its hand at not being a dive. I remember going a few times but not enough to feel any real connection. It also went under during the pandemic. But, like a phoenix from the ashes, a new version is coming back. The Pro - or, what my crew calls “the new new Old Pro” is re-opening in 2025 with strong backing, including Andrew Luck as a minority investor. I’ve been in touch with one of the relaunch insiders. He’s read the book and is now promising that he’ll try to put in an old jukebox. Man, that would be cool. I’m hoping to do a book reading for Roll With It at The Pro once it reopens.
STADIUM JOURNEY:
Best stadium to see the Dead in? Why?
BRAD PORTEUS:
So far, one of the most common responses I’ve gotten from readers is: “I was also at those Grateful Dead/Sting shows in Vegas!” That includes my wife, Jenney, my college pal, Carl, my neighbor, Craig, and I can’t remember who else. I mean, there were about 50,000 people there. I hope I hear from all of them.
A legitimate but frustrating answer to your question would be Frost Amphitheater on Stanford Campus, which the Dead played 14 times in the ‘80s. Tailgating in the eucalyptus groves and then grooving on the grassy slopes would have been epic. These shows were right under my nose, but I missed all of them. My frickin' parents went to a show, encouraged by some dorm students they knew in like1984.I hadn’t yet gotten on the bus. The real answer to your question is this: the stadium where they are playing next. And there's truly no best or worst - other than being there in the moment.
STADIUM JOURNEY:
You organized a fun promotion with Burger King. When the Rhinos scored 8 goals, all fans in attendance got a free Whopper. How often did this actually happen?
BRAD PORTEUS:
The Burger King promotion was both the biggest success and the biggest epic fail. I was so convinced I’d cracked the code on targeting our audience. But, in the end, it yielded nothing in the selling tickets department. However, in the game excitement department, it was a blast. Within the fanbase, there was always a mix of people who wanted to be there and people who could care less, like parents who got rooked into driving their kids. So having something fun that everyone could cheer for brought some real fan unity and ensured that all games had excitement regardless of the score.
We designed the promo so that the fans won a free Whopper more times than not, but not every time. I tried to find the game scores from those times, but, unfortunately, the Internet is letting me down.
STADIUM JOURNEY:
As the Rhinos GM, you were a very busy man. Did you get any time to watch the actual games? Hang with the players? What were the players like as people? Did you ever have to bail anyone out of jail? As a GM, you must wear multiple hats!
BRAD PORTEUS:
Even though we were all about the same age, I didn’t hang with the players much. I had my own life and the separation was natural. I did get to know a few of the guys better than the others, and I’ve recently been in touch with former Rhino player Alan Schuler, who is a tech entrepreneur. We had some good laughs sharing Rhino stories with his incredulous family.
With respect to jail, thank God, no. But, there was one day when I came into the office, and a couple of players were trying to pick the lock on the door to my office. I kept it locked because I had a computer and some valuable files to protect. They were trying to find the paperwork for the vans that Volkswagen had loaned us. One of the guys had been pulled over for a DUI while driving the van, and they needed to provide proof of ownership to San Jose’s finest. Instead of asking for my help, they thought it would be better to steal the papers and try to deal with it without anyone finding out.
In terms of watching the games, that’s a good question. I did have a bit of time during games to watch, but not much. And when I did, I’d think of something I needed to do and jump up and move around to do it. In a funny way, I’ve never sat still during a sporting event ever since. I just can’t separate myself from once being a professional sports team staff member. After the Rhinos, my joy of being a fan never returned to its original form. My interest in sports peaked before those years, and never returned. Lesson learned: be careful for what you ask for.
STADIUM JOURNEY:
The players and coaches were making practically nothing. Were they supplementing their income with side hustles? Or were they just broke, surviving off Whoppers?
BRAD PORTEUS:
Roller hockey was a summer job for these guys. Their alternative would have been to go home to Canada or wherever and work at a hockey camp of some sort. In San Jose, they had almost no expenses. We put them up in housing. They had no cars; there were no bills. Food and alcohol were all they needed to cover, which is why they were gunning so hard for those free Whoppers – more budget for Molson. I don’t remember hearing about any side hustles. However, if they found one to settle up their bar tabs, that wouldn't surprise me in the least.
STADIUM JOURNEY:
Most importantly, when are the Rhinos having a reunion?
BRAD PORTEUS:
That is a great idea. Maybe for the Cameron Crowe, Richard Linklater movie release?
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