Bill Rasmussen, who co-founded ESPN in 1979 and changed the way Americans watch sports forever, has died at 93 after a long fight with Parkinson's disease.
Rasmussen died Tuesday at his home in Florida, the Washington Examiner reported. ESPN confirmed the death through a statement from chairman Jimmy Pitaro, who called Rasmussen "a remarkable man" whose entrepreneurial grit still shapes the company nearly five decades later.
The network Rasmussen launched from almost nothing, a $9,000 credit card advance and a fired man's stubborn belief that sports fans wanted more, is now valued at roughly $30 billion. That gap between the shoestring start and the empire it became tells you most of what you need to know about the man.
Before ESPN existed, Rasmussen worked in public relations for the New England Whalers of the World Hockey Association. He lost that job. What came next was the kind of second act that used to define American ambition.
Rasmussen and his son Scott conceived a plan for a television channel devoted entirely to sports, originally imagined as a Connecticut-only operation before they realized satellite technology could carry the signal nationwide. He maxed out a credit card, secured a $9,000 advance, and used it to lock down satellite space. Getty Oil eventually backed the venture with real money, but the seed was planted by a middle-aged man with no safety net and a very large idea.
AP News reported that Rasmussen was born in Chicago and served in the Air Force before entering the sports business. ESPN launched on September 7, 1979, as the first 24-hour all-sports cable network in the world.
That date matters. In 1979, cable television was still a curiosity in much of the country. The idea that anyone would watch sports around the clock struck most industry figures as absurd. Rasmussen bet otherwise, and he was right. The network he built became the dominant force in American sports media, a fixture in bars, living rooms, and barbershops from coast to coast.
Sports broadcasting has produced its share of headline-making figures over the years, but few shaped the industry as fundamentally as Rasmussen did.
Rasmussen served as ESPN's first president and CEO, but he did not stay long. The company was sold shortly after its founding, and Rasmussen departed. ESPN's own statement said he "laid the groundwork for future growth" during that initial stretch at the helm.
Years later, he returned to the network in an advisory role. The details of that return, when it happened, what it involved, remain thin. But Rasmussen's connection to the brand he created never fully broke.
ESPN chairman Jimmy Pitaro made the company's debt to its founder explicit in his statement:
"Quite simply, none of us would be here today if it wasn't for Bill's passion and all the hard work and entrepreneurial spirit he put into building ESPN in the late 1970s, key aspects of our company culture that still carry on to this day."
Veteran ESPN anchor Chris Berman offered his own tribute. Breitbart quoted Berman calling Rasmussen "our George Washington and a good friend," adding: "He wasn't a glass half-full guy; his glass was always overflowing with optimism."
That optimism carried Rasmussen through far more than business setbacks. It carried him through a disease that strips away control of the body, one day at a time.
Rasmussen received his Parkinson's diagnosis in 2014, when he was 81 years old. He kept the news private for five years before going public in 2019, using his platform to spread awareness and encourage others facing the same fight.
In a 2019 interview with the American Parkinson Disease Association, Rasmussen laid out his philosophy in plain terms:
"Some people hear the word Parkinson's, and they think, 'Life's over. I can't do anything else,' and that's far from the truth."
He followed that with advice that sounded like the same stubborn confidence that built ESPN from nothing:
"Don't let your brain say, 'That's the end. I can't do anything.' Let your brain take the challenge and say, 'Now what can I do?'"
Rasmussen also told the organization that "giving up is not an option" and that "a positive attitude is what counts." He spent his final years asking himself what he needed to change to keep living well, not whether to stop trying.
The world of sports media has seen its share of personal struggles in recent years, from former NFL stars facing legal trouble in Florida to broadcasters and executives grappling with private crises. Rasmussen's struggle was quieter, a slow, grinding disease met with steady resolve.
ESPN's current valuation, roughly $30 billion, according to Sportico, stands as a measure of what Rasmussen set in motion. He did not get rich from it. He left early. But the architecture was his: the idea that sports fans would watch all day, every day, if someone gave them the channel to do it.
Rasmussen is survived by his three children, Scott, Glenn, and Lynn Van Hollebeke. His wife, Lois, died in 2011.
The sports world has not lacked for big names making headlines this year. But Rasmussen's death is a reminder of something different, the kind of story that used to be common in American life and feels rarer now. A man loses his job, bets everything on an idea the experts dismiss, and builds something that outlasts him by generations.
Bill Rasmussen didn't just start a cable channel. He proved that one stubborn American with a maxed-out credit card and a clear vision can still build something the whole country uses, and that's a story worth remembering in any era.
