Some losses hit differently.
The news that Mike Detillier had died Sunday was one of those moments.
A native of Lafourche Parish, Mike began his career in engineering before becoming one of the most trusted and recognizable voices in Louisiana sports. He first rose to prominence through Mike Detillier’s NFL Draft Report, which he launched in 1985 and developed into a respected resource for football fans. His knowledge and passion for the game soon took him to the airwaves, where he became a familiar
voice on Sports Talk during Buddy Diliberto’s tenure. Those appearances eventually led to a longtime role with WWL, where Mike shared his insight and expertise as a college and professional football analyst.
But for all of his knowledge of the game, it was his genuine love for people and his willingness to share that knowledge that made Mike so special.
He wasn’t simply a football analyst. He was a mentor, a teacher, a sounding board and, most importantly, a friend.
Mike was only 65, far too young, and his death leaves a tremendous void in Louisiana’s sports media community. For decades, his voice was part of the soundtrack of sports in this state, heard regularly on WWL.
But to those of us who had the privilege of knowing Mike beyond the microphone, he was so much more than a sports media personality.
Long before I had the opportunity to know Mike personally, I was one of the many people who listened to him talk football. His voice had been familiar to me for years, long before I ever walked into the Saints facility.
So, when I started covering the Saints and had the opportunity to get to know Mike, I never took it for granted. Someone I had listened to and respected for years became someone I could turn to for advice, encouragement and perspective.
And despite all of his experience and success, Mike never once made me feel like I didn’t belong. He welcomed me, treated me like a colleague and was always willing to help. He was incredibly kind and generous with his time, never hesitating to answer a question, offer advice or share what he knew.
He never treated me like the rookie trying to find her way. He treated me like an equal.
That meant more to me than he probably ever realized.
Over the years, Mike became much more than someone I could turn to for advice about sports or journalism. He became someone I was incredibly proud to call a friend.
That was the thing about Mike.
He cared about people.
He cared about the business he was part of, but he cared just as much about the people trying to find their way in it. He understood that success wasn’t just about getting the next story or landing the next interview. It was about building relationships, earning trust and helping the people around you along the way.
Mike did that naturally.
He had a way of making you feel comfortable, whether you had known him for years or had just met him. He was a wealth of knowledge and could talk sports with just about anyone, but his greatest gift was making people feel like they mattered.
His death is especially heartbreaking because it all happened so quickly.
Mike had only recently learned that he had Stage 4 metastatic pancreatic cancer after being rushed to the hospital with stomach pain. He had not yet had the opportunity to share the devastating news publicly. In fact, Mike was planning to tell his WWL audience about his diagnosis after Labor Day, on what would have been his 66th birthday.
There wasn’t enough time.
Not enough time for more conversations. Not enough time for more stories. Not enough time for more laughs, more advice or another opportunity to simply say thank you.
He never got the chance to tell his listeners himself.
That makes his sudden passing even harder to comprehend.
Former Saints quarterback Bobby Hebert, who worked alongside Mike at WWL, perhaps put it best.
“Mike was a good friend and was like a brother to me. It’s heartbreaking. This really hurts.”
It does.
For so many Louisiana sports fans, Mike’s voice was part of their lives. For those of us fortunate enough to know him personally, his impact went far beyond what people heard on the radio.
I will always be grateful for the conversations, the lessons, the encouragement and the kindness Mike showed me throughout the years.
Those are the things you remember.
Those are the things that last.
The sports world will continue. The games will be played. The shows will go on. Another story will always be waiting to be written.
But there will be an empty chair, a missing voice and countless people who will think of Mike when they sit down to talk sports.
I know I’ll be one of them.
Mike Detillier was a beloved voice in Louisiana sports, a respected media personality and one of the most knowledgeable people I’ve ever known in this business.
But to so many of us, he was something even more important.
He was simply Mike — a friend.
And I feel incredibly lucky to have known him.
