The Legacy of Leonard Levy

By Joey Johnston

 --

He came from an era when personal relationships were everything, when a man’s handshake was his bond, when the primary quest was elevating his beloved Tampa Bay area to the big leagues of sports.

The dignitaries he knew, the things he saw, the victories he enjoyed and the history he shaped would be more than enough to qualify for a life well-lived.

But for Leonard Levy, the Godfather of Champa Bay, the story of his legacy should always begin like this:

It was about the people he helped.

When Levy passed away on Aug. 18 at age 89 after a battle with cancer, it seemed like every sports luminary had a Leonard story to share. That’s because Levy’s influence reached far and wide, touching every sport, from the league and conference headquarters to the coaching offices to the executive suites to the locker rooms.

Levy, a dedicated University of Florida Gator alumnus, was instrumental in bringing an NFL franchise and five Super Bowls to Tampa Bay. He helped to build the old Tampa Stadium, then navigated the political hurdles that led to Raymond James Stadium. He helped to attract the NCAA Men’s Final Four Basketball Tournament and the College Football Playoff championship game. He threw his support behind the Tampa Bay Lightning, Amalie Arena, University of Tampa football and USF football.

Behind it all, though, there were the people.

Leonard’s people.

“I’ve had hundreds of lunches with him and I think Leonard probably invented the lunch-and-learn,’’ said Rob Higgins, executive director of the Tampa Bay Sports Commission. “There were two types of Leonard lunches. The first was just to catch up. The second was him imparting a lesson on you.

“He would say, ‘Have I ever told you the story about so-and-so?’ And you’d say, ‘Yeah, actually you have told me that one.’ And Leonard would look you in the eye and say, ‘Well, let me tell you that one again.’ And it was always something that made you look in the mirror, take some accountability and work to improve. He not only taught you how to accomplish things, but he taught you how to accomplish them in the right way.’’

Former UF athletic director Jeremy Foley said he once received harsh words from Levy that “changed my life.’’

Foley, who began at UF as a ticket intern, was a hard-charging, take-no-prisoners administrator who focused on getting the job done, no matter what, and climbing the career ladder. One day, Levy summoned Foley to Tampa for a lunch.

“I believed everyone thought I was doing a good job because I kept getting promoted and getting more responsibility,’’ Foley said. “When Leonard brought me to Tampa, he looked at me and said, ‘Jeremy, you are not going to go any further until you learn how to treat people better.’

“I remember driving back to Gainesville and the closer I got, the worse I felt. I knew Leonard was right. I didn’t change overnight, but eventually I got to where I understood Leonard’s message. The fact that he cared enough about me to be honest and straightforward … I can tell you for a fact I never would’ve become an athletic director or had any degree of success had I not done exactly what Leonard told me to do.’’

When the Glazer family purchased the Tampa Bay Buccaneers in 1995, there were a contentious year of debate on whether the community would support the building of a new stadium or allow its NFL franchise to pursue another home in a new city.

Levy, who originally thought the old stadium was good enough, saw the bigger picture and realized the ramifications of potentially losing the Bucs.

“Leonard was a very persistent guy and very consistent in his love for Tampa and his community,’’ said Atlanta Falcons president and CEO Rich McKay, former general manager of the Bucs and son of the team’s first head coach. “You look at sports people all over the country — and I hate to say it — but many of them have their self-interest in mind. They’re on a committee because it will benefit them. I never felt that with Leonard at all.

“He was a very intelligent guy who made intelligent arguments. He started from the right position. It wasn’t about him. This was about the community. He wasn’t on some power trip. His angle was always about what was right for Tampa Bay. His love of community was always very obvious and everyone in the NFL knew that. And they respected him for it.’’

Tampa Born And Bred

Leonard Levy and his identical twin brother, George, were born in Tampa on July 25, 1933 to Solomon and Simmie Levy. The father had a grocery and sundries store on Howard Avenue, not far from where Bern’s Steak House is now located, but lost everything in the Great Depression.

He dusted himself off and worked for the U.S. Customs Department. He instilled confidence in his children, telling them to stand up for themselves, to always help people and to care about their community.

Those lessons were well-learned.

Leonard and George (who died in 2016) — after the time-honored South Tampa educational path of Gorrie Elementary School, Wilson Middle School and Plant High School — matriculated to the University of Florida. For a time, Leonard was a Gainesville sports correspondent for the Tampa Tribune, dissecting practice-field nuggets from crusty Gators coach Bob Woodruff and covering basketball games at the cracker-box Alligator Alley.

After graduating with a Bachelor of Science degree in journalism, Levy joined the Marine Corps, where he had three years of active duty, a tour in Korea and the rank of Captain when he was released from the reserves.

Upon returning to Tampa, Levy joined Hillsboro Printing Company as a sales representative, then was promoted up the ranks until he became the company’s president and majority shareholder in 1984. George started a trophy and awards business (what youthful Tampa athlete didn’t receive a trophy or plaque from George Levy Awards on Kennedy Boulevard?).

The Levy brothers were Plant High swimmers. Levy claimed a state title (albeit in an event no longer contested) and was a far better athlete than his brother. Or as Tribune sports editor Tom McEwen once wrote, “Leonard was a champion swimmer. George was a swimmer.’’

Levy and his wife Pat (they were married 66 years) raised four children and were blessed with seven grandchildren and three great-grandchildren.

Levy was the first to acknowledge that without Pat, he wouldn’t have accomplished very much. Her support meant everything. As her husband traveled the country, becoming a true mover-and-shaker, she remained in the background. But she was his sounding board, his biggest fan and his ultimate happiness.

Levy’s resume practically bursts at the seams.

He was head of the first Super Bowl Task Force, which attracted Super Bowl XVIII to Tampa, and served as vice-chairman on the organizing committees for three more Tampa-based Super Bowls.

He’s a past president of the Tampa/Hillsborough Convention and Visitors Association, the Sports Club of Tampa Bay and the Palma Ceia Golf and Country Club, while serving as a vice president/original member of the Gold Shield Foundation. He served on the boards of the Greater Tampa Chamber of Commerce, United Way, Salvation Army, Tampa General Hospital Foundation, the Tampa Bay Sports Commission and the Ye Mystic Krewe of Gasparilla.

He was chairman of the Tampa Sports Authority and the West Coast Pro Football Task Force, which sought an expansion franchise that became the Bucs. He was inducted into the Tampa Sports Hall of Fame and became instrumental in the groups that brought a bowl game (now the ReliaQuest Bowl) and the NCAA Men’s Basketball Final Four to Tampa Bay.

He was honored with Civitan Club Citizen of the Year, Citizen of the Year by the Tampa Sports Club, Leadership Award by the Governor’s Council on Physical Fitness and Sports, Jaycee Distinguished Service Award and Special Recognition from the Tampa Leadership Conference and Committee of 100. He and his brother received the 51st Tampa Bay Lightning Community Heroes Award.

At UF, he served on the National Executive Committee of the Alumni Association, President of the Gator Boosters and the board of the University Athletic Association, while being recognized as an Alumnus of Distinction of the College of Journalism and Communications.

On Feb. 5, 2021 — two days before the Bucs captured Super Bowl LV on their Raymond James Stadium home field — Mayor Jane Castor presented Levy with a key to the city and proclaimed it “J. Leonard Levy Day’’ in Tampa. Levy was also given a No. 55 Buccaneers jersey. Surrounded by family, Levy basked in the recognition from the surprise ceremony.

The public side of Leonard Levy was well known.

The private family man did not make headlines, but was even more significant.

“That values that Leonard instilled in his children — faith, integrity, morals and character — are the same lessons I’ve seen my wife instill in our children,’’ said Richard Barrett, the son-in-law, who is married to Levy’s daughter, Jana. “If you felt someone wronged you in some way, Leonard said, ‘Go look in the mirror for 10 minutes. Ask yourself if you did anything that caused this situation. Then come back and let’s talk about it.’

“Leonard was a firm believer in treating people the way you wanted to be treated. He was a big fan of the handwritten note. He would write a quick thank-you to someone, clip out an article they might like, pass along some words of encouragement. It only took him a few minutes. For the people who received those notes, it always meant the world. His word was gold.’’

A Direct And Honest Approach

Leonard Levy’s words were usually direct. Some might say abrupt. But he generally said what others were thinking, but were often too timid to express.

Levy sometimes found himself in committee meetings to develop strategy in attracting big-time sporting events to Tampa Bay. In modern times, there was almost always a slick video. Maybe some flashy eye-catching gimmicks, along with other assorted bells and whistles.

Those were fine.

But Levy’s final word usually went something like this:

“This is all well and good, but what are our relationships with the decision-makers? Who do we know? Are we talking to them?’’

“There are times when we tend to get a little too cute with our presentations, whereas Leonard always grounded us,’’ Higgins said. “It’s still a very results-oriented business. You don’t get the Super Bowl because you had the best video. It’s about relationships and communication. Leonard set the standard there.

“He taught us you can’t afford to have bad relationships. You can’t afford to burn bridges that you may need to walk back over again. Make sure you’re building relationships with everybody. You never know where they might wind up on the organizational chart. Relationships are everything.’’

That’s how the Levy brothers, McEwen and other Tampa civic giants made their mark. When Tampa brought in its first NFL exhibition game — Falcons-Redskins in 1968, mostly to provide a showcase event for the new Tampa Stadium — it drew more than 40,000 fans. And that set in motion a new goal — acquiring an NFL expansion franchise for Tampa.

Levy, especially, developed personal relationships with a passel of NFL owners and Commissioner Pete Rozelle. When NFL brass came to town, they were entertained and pampered, while Levy extolled the city’s assets.

On April 24, 1974, Rozelle announced that Tampa was the NFL’s 27th franchise. Rozelle sought out Levy: “Welcome to the NFL, sir.’’

After Levy allowed himself a few moments of celebration, he had a question for the NFL executives.

“Now … how do we get a Super Bowl?’’

“The Levy brothers didn’t come from great means, but they accomplished gigantic things just by their sheer desire and a love for their town,’’ said USF athletic director Michael Kelly, who first encountered Levy when he was brought to town and hired as head of the NCAA Men’s Basketball Final Four Organizing Committee as a 27-year-old. “People think it’s strictly about money or something else. It’s really about tenacity. Leonard set me on my course by teaching me that and introducing me to so many people.’’

Kelly became Chief Operating Officer of the College Football Playoff when Tampa bid for the championship game. Levy took Kelly, Higgins and attorney Jeff Adams to Bern’s to cap off Kelly’s official site visit.

“Leonard starts in on Michael, ‘Look, you know how much you mean to us because we brought you here for the Final Four and you know what this community can deliver … so you know the right thing to do and we expect you to do the right thing,’ ‘’ Adams said. “The whole room went quiet. Michael didn’t know what to say. Rob and I are laughing and kicking each other under the table. Only Leonard could pin somebody down like that and have it be appropriate. We got to see the master at work.’’

“Leonard cared,’’ Foley said. “He was very opinionated, but his heart was always in the right place. He loved Tampa. He loved the Gators. He loved the Bucs. He loved all the sports ventures. And if something wasn’t being done properly, he would tell you about it.’’

In 1977, the second-year Bucs still had not won a game. With 22 straight defeats, the Bucs were set to host the New York Giants, so the New York Times sent a reporter to Tampa for a story on the winless opponents.

Levy, of course, was contacted.

“I was active in bringing the NFL to Tampa — I didn’t have anything to do with the Bucs,’’ Levy told the New York Times.

Four weeks later, the Bucs finally won a game. No one was more happy than Leonard Levy.

“A lot of people want credit for bringing the Bucs and Super Bowls to Tampa,’’ McKay said. “But your short list begins with Leonard. You can’t debate the positive impact that an NFL franchise had on that community. Tampa was a much smaller place then. How did the city even pull that off? Well, Leonard isn’t a guy who takes no for an answer.’’

For decades, Levy attended Bucs games with at least one mission — he visited with the opposing team’s owners. Some were long-time acquaintances. Others were new. But a relationship was either begun or nurtured. Maybe it would mean a positive Super Bowl vote one day.

“I never quit learning from Leonard,’’ said Brian Ford, chief operating officer of the Bucs. “He was a role model in every way — from his family to his community work to the passion he had for Tampa Bay.

“These things are often lost in our digital age. It was the Leonard handshake, the Leonard personal touch. Some of the owners, when they think of Tampa and the Bucs, their first association was Leonard and George Levy. They knew them. They trusted them.’’

Paul Catoe was head of WFLA-TV when Levy urged him to become active with the Tampa/Hillsborough Convention and Visitors Association. “Why in the world don’t you support an organization you belong to?’’ Levy said. Catoe, initially embarrassed that he was paying dues but not helping, took the advice. Before long, he was chairing some committees. A few years later, Catoe was president and CEO of the rebranded Tampa Bay and Company, the city’s tourism arm.

“Leonard was like a father to me,’’ Catoe said. “He was absolutely fearless. If he believed in something and was passionate about it, he was like a dog with a bone. He was not going to let go. I never met anyone like him in my life. He knew who he was and what he was.

“I went to a bunch of Super Bowls with him. We’d walk into a room and somebody would yell out, ‘Leonard! How are you? Come over here.’ And it was the owner of the New York Giants. People regularly went out of their way just to say hello to him. He had that kind of respect.’’

Adams remembers Levy as the voice of reason for nearly every Tampa Bay pursuit of a major sporting event. When the pursuit paid off with victory, when the champagne was popped open and the television cameras started rolling, Levy usually retreated to the back of the room.

“Leonard was the biggest cheerleader, fan and supporter of the Tampa Bay Area and a mentor to so many of us,’’ Adams said. “He was a thinker. He was brief with his comments. He knew how to get things done. He cut through the superfluous stuff and wasn’t there just to hear himself talk. Leonard always got us to the finish line. When we crossed it, he backed away and let others get the credit.’’

In the end, Levy saw the Bucs win the Super Bowl twice and the Lightning lift three Stanley Cups. After enduring endless “Years of the Gator,’’ he witnessed three national championships from UF’s football program and two national titles by men’s basketball. Five times, Levy’s hometown was center of the American sporting universe when hosting the Super Bowl.

“I came from Detroit, a city where there was forever professional sports, and I had to learn the vibe of the Tampa Bay area,’’ said Bill Wickett, former executive vice president of the Tampa Bay Lightning, who now works in a similar capacity with the NHL’s Nashville Predators. “There are a lot of cities out there pursuing sporting events, but very few have people with the caliber, passion and credibility of Leonard Levy.

“I think what Leonard stood for, hopefully, will live on in a lot of us. He taught us how to be direct, but not disrespectful. Leonard was never afraid to be direct, no matter who he was talking to. And he wasn’t afraid to ask for things. If you don’t ask, you’re not going to get it, right? All of us are so busy — too busy all the time, or so we think — but Leonard taught us about making time to maintain relationships. Shake somebody’s hand. Make a phone call. Reach out. As I’ve matured in my career — and I’m not even in Tampa anymore — I keep bringing Leonard’s lessons with me.’’

Tampa Bay has become Champa Bay.

The biggest events in sports have come our way — and more are ahead.

In the end, though, some things never change. Passion matters. Civic pride matters. Relationships matter.

It’s always about the people.

Leonard’s people.

Leonard Levy’s memorial service will be held at 11:30 a.m. on Friday, Aug. 26 at Congregation Schaarai Zedek, 3303 W. Swann Ave. A Celebration of Life will follow immediately at the Palma Ceia Golf and Country Club. In lieu of flowers, contributions may be made to LifePath Hospice, the Gold Shield Foundation, the Tampa General Hospital Foundation of the charity of your choice.