Doyel: Jim Irsay is in a most public position, fighting for his life in a most private way
Jim Irsay is believed to have overdosed again, which would be the second time for the owner of the Indianapolis Colts. It’s too soon to say what comes next, but if he’s headed to rehab, this would be at least his 16th time. Those numbers come from Irsay, who has always been too honest for his own good and did it again last month when he told Andrea Kremer of HBO Real Sports about his 15 trips to rehab – “at least,” he told Kremer – and an earlier overdose that had a doctor telling him:
“Jim, you're one lucky man – because I had signed, virtually, the death certificate.”
That episode aired Nov. 21, less than three weeks before Irsay was found unresponsive, cold to the touch and turning blue, at his home on West 116th Street. The Carmel Police Department incident report labeled it as a suspected overdose.
Jim Irsay news: Colts owner found unresponsive in Carmel home Dec. 8
From November: Colts owner Jim Irsay tells HBO about 'at least 15' trips to rehab
What we’re watching is a tragedy in real time, a man in the most public of positions fighting for his life in the most private of ways. This is Jim Irsay, our owner, one of the most powerful, generous, beloved and misunderstood people in Indiana. How can we have an opinion about something as private and personal as this?
Better question: How can we not?
The easy thing to say, the knee-jerk reaction, is that Irsay needs to give up control of the Colts until he emerges from this hell of his DNA’s creation. And to be clear: He does need to give up control of the franchise – and surely he has, behind the scenes, with some combination of daughter Carlie Irsay-Gordon, right-hand man Pete Ward and Colts general manager Chris Ballard handling the heaviest lifting while Irsay is … wherever he is.
Nine days ago, before his suspected overdose on Dec. 8 became public knowledge, the Colts issued a statement that said Irsay would not be making a scheduled appearance with his band in Los Angeles because he was being treated for a severe respiratory illness.
"He is receiving excellent care and looks forward to returning to the stage as soon as possible," the team announced Jan. 9.
Two days later Ballard met with local reporters for his annual end-of-season news conference. Toward the end of the hour-long discussion, this happened:
Reporter: “Is there anything you can add to Jim Irsay and his situation?”
Ballard: “No, other than he’s stable and they’re working through it.”
This is what we know, and it’s all we know – but it’s a lot, isn’t it?
Irsay has long been open about his history of addiction, which he says dates to his post-playing career at SMU in the 1980s, when surgeries led to painkillers which led to addiction. In 2014 he told the IndyStar he'd been sober more than a decade. Last month he told HBO he has been to rehab at least 15 times. Two weeks later, after being discovered at his home in distress, he was administered one dose of Narcan, a drug commonly used to revive people after an opiate overdose.
Now he’s … stable?
If that’s supposed to be comforting, consider me uncomfortable.
Time for another Irsay to run Colts
The coldest, hardest look at the facts, as I’ve said, suggest he relinquish control of the Colts at least temporarily, as he did in 2014 after pleading guilty to a misdemeanor count of driving while intoxicated. Back then the NFL forced his hand, fining him $500,000 and suspending him six games for violating the league’s personal conduct policy. Irsay turned over control of the team to his oldest daughter, Ward and then-GM Ryan Grigson.
This will be different. The NFL cannot – the NFL had better not – suspend Irsay for the Dec. 8 incident. What happened that night was neither criminal nor public, but we cannot say it wasn’t our business. Irsay is the most famous employer in the state, and his team plays at a taxpayer-supported stadium. We don’t have the right to know every last detail of his life, but as unseemly as this feels to write – and I do not like writing it – the public must know whether the owner of the Colts, whose team plays in Lucas Oil Stadium, is capable of handling the job.
Clearly right now he is not capable. That’s neither judgment nor breaking news, but fact.
What should happen next, if I may be so bold, is another trip to rehab – at least his 16th trip, according to Irsay himself – and painstaking recovery. Given the stakes, the billion-dollar business, the NFL franchise that performs up to 10 times a year in a publicly funded stadium, recovery cannot happen fast. This is no teenager with an emerging problem, being sent to a rehab facility for a month or two, then returning to daily life.
This is a 64-year-old man who, in so many of his owns words, has been fighting a losing battle with addiction for decades. It’s fair to wonder if he should ever resume control of the Colts, and I’m not wondering that.
I’m saying it: Jim Irsay should never again run the Indianapolis Colts.
Look, there’s a silver lining to this, if you’re inclined to look. Succession plans in the NFL can be a nightmare. Start with a franchise worth billions, a franchise that will only rise in value, and multiply that by the number potential heirs. Then add a factor of 10 once the lawyers get involved.
The Colts have been through it once, when Robert Irsay died in 1997, and it was hideous. Jim, then 37, fought his stepmother for control of the team and won that battle with an out-of-court settlement. In those days the franchise was said to be worth about $200 million.
Today? The Colts are reported to be worth more than twenty times that: $4.35 billion.
Time for Colts' ownership succession plan
I couldn’t be speaking more out of turn, but it feels safe to assume Irsay has had legal experts draw up and review what they feel is an ironclad last will and testament, detailing his wishes for the team upon his death. But he has lived the life he’s lived, a life many of us have lived – hell, a life I’ve lived, minus all that money – with marriage and divorce and multiple children and subsequent relationships. Add a $4.35 billion money-making machine to the mix, drop in a lawyer or two, and his estate could get messy.
Extrapolating just a little: If the succession plan goes awry, what happens to the Colts?
Let’s not think about that now. Let’s just say – I’ll just say – the time is at hand for Irsay to turn over control of the team to whomever he sees fit. The most likely result would be his three daughters becoming co-owners, with Carlie running the day-to-day operations. Kalen and Casey also care about the team and have a role, don’t get me wrong, but it was Carlie who assumed control in 2014, and it’s Carlie who attends every practice with a pen and paper, taking notes.
As for what becomes of Jim Irsay, which matters more to me than anything else in this story, I want him to be happy. I want him to be OK. And I want him to know that I was listening when he told me in September 2022 that addiction is not weakness, not a character flaw. We were talking about his Kicking the Stigma initiative, created by the family in 2020 to promote mental health awareness and solutions.
Doyel in 2022: Jim Irsay's mental health story runs deep. He's sharing to help.
“These are fatal diseases,” Irsay was saying of the alcoholism his father fought, and his own drug addictions. “People get confused and they think, ‘Well, he likes to party. Do some coke, do some shots, dance around.’ It’s nothing to do with that. This isn’t partying. This is a downbound train in the dark. You’re dying, you’re going to hell and guess what? It’s your fault! How do you like that?
“Tonight,” he continued, “you can look at deaths in the state from suicide, depression, overdose. I’m not better than those people. I don’t have more courage than those people. I don’t have more character. People say all the time, ‘He just had his demons.’ Really? If I had pancreatic cancer, would you say, 'He had his demons?' No. It’s insane. Nobody would say that!
“’Well, Jim, you’re a good guy. I know you’re fighting with your demons.’ What? Impossible!”
Jim Irsay is a good guy, a generous man, an Indiana man. We need the Colts to be secure in Downtown Indianapolis, clearly, but let’s not lose sight of the human behind the headlines – a man too honest for his own good, an addict engaged in a daily fight for his life, a gentle and benevolent soul whose absence, whenever it happens, will leave a crushing hole in the fabric of our state.
Get well, Mr. Irsay. For you and your family, and for us. Get well, for us.
Find IndyStar columnist Gregg Doyel on Twitter at @GreggDoyelStar or at www.facebook.com/greggdoyelstar.
This article originally appeared on Indianapolis Star: Jim Irsay's ongoing addiction fight means giving up control of Colts
