Category: Sports

In July 2024, Tim Hampton was working his shift at TGI Fridays when he spotted a familiar face.

It was longtime Sixers player and coach Billy Cunningham. He was eating lunch with La Salle coach Fran Dunphy and two other Sixers alumni: former forward and coach Doug Collins, and former executive John Nash.

Hampton smiled. Seeing the group brought back memories. There was a time, not long ago, when the chain restaurant on City Avenue hosted everyone from Charles Barkley to Maurice Cheeks to Moses Malone.

This particular Fridays, which opened in 1981, was down the street from where the Sixers practiced, first at St. Joseph’s, and eventually, at Philadelphia College of Osteopathic Medicine. It became the team’s unofficial hangout spot, a place where they could grab meals in the afternoon or dinner and drinks at night.

By the late 1990s, when Hampton was hired as a host, it had a long list of NBA clientele. Then, a rambunctious rookie named Allen Iverson came to town, and everything changed.

TGI Fridays was incorporated into Philadelphia’s nightlife scene. People called it “Club Fridays.” Women would wear their shortest dresses and their highest heels. Men would don collared shirts and expensive jeans.

At the center of it all was Iverson, who had a designated booth — “Table 70” — a special back entrance, and his own security detail.

“It was exactly like a club,” said former Sixers forward Jumaine Jones. “They would come there with their best outfit on, like they was going to a party.

“We gave Allen the nickname Mick Jagger. Because he was like a rock star. People wanted to be around him.”

There were nights when wait times lasted for hours. Fans would line up around the block, all the way to the bus stop on City Avenue and Presidential Boulevard, just to catch a glimpse of the superstar. Those who were lucky enough to enter would hand napkins to their servers in the hopes that Iverson would sign them.

And most of the time, he did. Despite the chaos, Hampton said that Iverson treated the employees and patrons of TGI Fridays with respect. He became friendly with the general manager, Jeff Tretina, the kitchen manager, Jerry Shott, and the rest of the staff.

When the point guard was traded to the Nuggets in 2006, the longstanding relationship between the Sixers and the chain restaurant faded. But Iverson never forgot it. And neither did his Fridays “family.”

“He could’ve chosen anywhere else to go,” Hampton said, “but he chose us.”

‘Club Fridays’

Hampton grew up at 33rd and Diamond in North Philadelphia, raised on Dr. J and George McGinnis. He studied business administration at Burlington County College in New Jersey and started working at the restaurant in 1999.

The lifelong Sixers fan climbed his way from a host to a waiter to a cook, and eventually, to a general manager. He quickly realized that this was no ordinary Fridays.

Employees would share stories of Barkley, Darryl Dawkins, Bobby Jones, and more. Players who’d patronized the restaurant during their careers, like Cheeks, would return after they’d joined the Sixers’ coaching staff.

A big part of this was convenience. Fridays was an easy place to stop after practice, and had plenty of parking for big groups.

There also wasn’t as much of a social barrier between players and fans as there is now. This was true even among some of the team’s celebrities.

Barkley and center Mike Gminski would go to the movies together in Philadelphia. They’d attend Phillies games and would sit out in the open, rather than a suite.

Eating at a chain restaurant was not uncommon. And in the 1980s and 1990s, it looked a lot different from it did when Iverson was in town.

There was no security at Fridays, no separate entrance, and no reserved table; just a group of extraordinarily tall men, squeezed into a four-person booth.

“Pretty much everybody on the team used to go there or go somewhere,” Gminski said. “If anybody, it was probably Charlie [who went the most].

“And after a while, it wasn’t really a thing seeing us. There were no cell phones. There were no pictures, no selfies.

“We never really thought about shying away. We ate where everybody else ate.”

Most of the players and staff would go to Fridays for lunch, and Bridget Foy’s in Society Hill for postgame drinks.

It wasn’t until Iverson arrived in 1996 that Fridays turned into a nightly haunt. At first, people barely noticed he was there. Iverson would sit in his booth, eat his favorite dish — Cajun shrimp and chicken pasta — and lay low.

Jumaine Jones, who was drafted by the Hawks in 1999 and traded to the Sixers shortly after, usually accompanied him. Iverson quickly gravitated to the small forward, loudly proclaiming that Jones was his “rookie.”

They started hanging out off the court. Jones estimated that the two players went to Fridays “every day for two years.” Sometimes, he would go home to take a nap, and wake up a few hours later, only to realize that Iverson was still at the restaurant.

“We probably spent more time at Fridays than we did at the gym,” Jones said.

The rookie wasn’t complaining. If anything, it made Iverson seem more relatable.

“I’d just come from being this broke college student,” he said. “So, to go to Fridays, it was like, ‘Oh, OK, that’s cool. He likes Fridays too!’

“But it was funny that somebody who was making so much money liked Fridays. The fact that he didn’t change what he ate, and the things that he enjoyed doing, really made him human to me.”

After the 2001 NBA Finals, when Iverson famously stepped over Lakers point guard Tyronn Lue, his celebrity grew to new heights. People started flocking to Fridays not to eat, but to see Iverson.

The restaurant had to hire its own security for crowd management (in addition to Iverson’s detail). It changed its hours and staffing arrangements to accommodate the influx of people.

“If it was a game day on a weekend, you pretty much figured he was coming,” said former manager Elan Walker. “We were closing at like 1 a.m. on weekends. So we were open late.

“At most businesses your dinner is from 5 p.m. to 7 p.m., and you’re down to a skeleton crew by 10 o’clock. That wasn’t the case for us. We still had a full staff on at midnight. Because we were expecting a crowd.”

Even though it was a foregone conclusion that Iverson would be at Fridays after a home game, he still liked to give the staff a heads up.

So, he’d call the restaurant, or Tretina and Shott directly, to let them know he was coming.

The point guard would roll up in his Rolls-Royce or his blue Bentley and step out with anyone from Jadakiss to Fat Joe.

“You never knew who was going to be with A.I.,” said Jamilah Lawry, a friend of Iverson’s. “So that was really a huge element of surprise. Who does he have with him? Who’s going to get out of that car?

“You didn’t know who was going to be in there. And you had to look good, because the man of your dreams could walk in. You know?”

Lawry’s uncle, Jeff Lawry, owned Luxe Lounge and Club Roar at the time. Jamilah was familiar with Philadelphia nightlife.

But to her, Fridays was the best of both worlds; a place where they could be themselves, in an exciting environment, without too many rules and regulations.

“We’d watch the game, we’d talk loud,” she said. “We’d play too much. Those type of things. You know, you can’t go to Ocean Prime and do that. They’ll be like, ‘Hey, get out.’”

“It was more of what we would call a Greek picnic type thing,” Lawry added. “There was nothing like Club Fridays. Except for Club McDonald’s on Broad Street. And that’s a whole other story.

“If you didn’t want to go to the club, you’d go to Fridays, and that’s what would be going on.”

‘City Line Love’

After Iverson retired in 2013, he rolled out a special-edition sneaker, in collaboration with Reebok and the Philadelphia-based retailer Ruvilla. It was called A Day in Philly.

The tongue had a maroon and gray stripe along the top, as a nod to his favorite restaurant. He held the release party in November 2014 at TGI Fridays on City Avenue.

The staff rolled a red carpet onto the sidewalk. Fifteen security guards roamed the grounds as police officers stood nearby.

At one point, employees had to close the doors, because the restaurant had reached its occupancy level (475 people).

Jadakiss and Styles P gave a surprise performance and a DJ held court after that. To Hampton, it felt like old times.

“It was like a Renaissance moment,” he said. “I felt like I was part of history.”

Now, over a decade later, he’s trying to recapture the magic. In November, Fridays’ corporate branch introduced a membership program called “Club Fridays,” that offers discounts and other perks.

Hampton has asked Iverson if he’ll help the restaurant promote it. He has also reached out to a few current Sixers players to forge some new relationships.

“We’re working on trying to get VJ Edgecombe and Tyrese Maxey to come here,” Hampton said. “Because we want to extend that City Line Love.

“That’s our goal. To get the new Sixers in. We want them to know about the legendary 4000 City Line Avenue, because it is a legendary location.”