There’s a pretty good chance the name Bob Atkins won’t be mentioned when it comes to singling out the all-time greats in Bridgeport High School sports history. I would imagine Bob wouldn’t take umbrage at that statement.

 

If the talk goes to individuals who quietly and professionally weaved a strong part of the fabric of Indians sports history, the name of Robert L. “Bob” Atkins will and should come up.  If I told Bob that, I imagine he would probably dismiss it out of hand because he never looked for a pat on the back.

 

In fairness, Atkins did more than just weave his piece of the Bridgeport sports fabric. And we’ll get to that later.

 

I bring all of this up because on Tuesday of this past week, Bob Atkins passed away at the age of 82 after battling a myriad of illnesses.  Atkins, I’m very proud to say, was part of my fringe benefit package of being in the journalism field – I got to be his friend.

 

I don’t remember the year, the date or the exact place I met Bob. I do remember the circumstances of the time when I was a young man still cutting his teeth in the business.

 

For those that read his obituary, Bob Atkins was “the scorekeeper.” For a quarter of a century he kept book at Bridgeport High School boys’ varsity basketball games. While you could always count on Bob Atkins’ book being flawless after the contest to get the information needed, that’s not what stood out to me and why I always loved to see him and chat whenever we ran into one another many years later.

 

During those early years, Bob Atkins treated me with kindness. He helped me out – not because I asked him, but because he was able to realize a young kid needed help. Bob also would save a seat beside him when games would be packed so I could get at the scorer’s table and do my work.

 

Understand, particularly as a late teen, early 20s guy, kindness wasn’t always what greeted me in gymnasiums and at ball fields. I didn’t mind indifference to my arrival, but plenty of times – and I’m sure it still happens today – I was simply talked down to or berated. I remember those names and faces as well from that long time ago, but Bob always was one of the good guys.

 

It was at these times where Bob Atkins did more than just entrench himself as an important part of Bridgeport High School sports history. I would watch at every game as visiting coaches, players, and fans would approach him before or after the game. The result was always the same.

 

Robert “Bob” Atkins would answer every question or inquiry made of him. He would do so with a smile and kindness. Even after hectic games where plenty was on the line and people were crowding around to see the final score totals from the home side of the visitors’ side, Bob would always accommodate people.

 

For those thinking that’s no big deal, understand that for many of those people approaching him, it might be their only conversation from someone representing Bridgeport High School, which in affect meant he was representing his community as well.

 

The encounters were pleasant and kind. And they sent people away with what they wanted and generally with a smile.

 

How many approached him? I wasn’t at every game over those 25 years. In fact, I would gather I probably sat with him at maybe five dozen games – give or take a dozen. Yet, it was always the same mannerism of professionalism and kindness that struck me.

 

Honestly, it never changed; it didn’t matter if the Indians lost or if it was after he sat courtside and kept the scorecard for the Indians in 1991 when they won their first boys basketball title. His upbeat demeanor never changed away from that role many knew him in.

 

If you saw him as a spectator at Bridgeport sporting events (and that was often) where I would see him and his wife Mary Frances who preceded him in death, they always talked and always made my day just a little bit brighter. Again, as I pound the point home, he was kind.

 

Earlier this week, I talked to his daughter Cydney Romito who lives in Morgantown. I was trying to remember the last time I was able to talk with my friend. I knew it had been a few months at least since Bob and I had last talked and that when I saw him I knew he was ill. Of course, he never mentioned his medical issue and picked up where he left off with a gentle handshake and talk about his beloved Indians.

 

It’s likely the last time I talked to him was at Kroger’s. It was one of the spots he went to as his years advanced. It wasn’t his only spot. Cydney said her father spent time at Tudor’s Biscuit World in Bridgeport and would go down and talk shop at Diamond Street Car Wash.

 

These are the places where Bob would keep his social circle going. It was a group of men, many just like Bob, who have been nothing but good to me and everyone they know – good family men. Cydney, who assured me what I already knew in the fact Bob Atkins was a good father, also told me the week prior to his passing he was joined at Apple Annies by Don Baldini, Bill McCartney, Dick Moore, Jim “Kiwi” Kinney, Dick Duez and Dean Hartzell for a bite to eat.

 

I’m sure they’d tell you the same thing happened when they got together one last time that always happened. They talked some sports, felt companionship, and were treated with a heavy dose of Bob’s kindness.

 

Robert L. “Bob” Atkins was an unassuming man who would be the first to tell you he didn’t change the world. He’d also probably deny that through being a kind soul to so many and helping out a school he loved he made his corner of the world a much better place. Because of that, he did change the world.

 

Rest in peace Bob. Your work here is done.

 

Editor’s Note: Top photo show Bob Atkins with his wife Mary Frances working the BHS Concession Stand in 1996. Below is a photo from just last week as the crew was together one last time. Shown seated, from left, are Dick Moore, Bill McCartney, Jim “Kiwi” Kinney, Don Baldini and Atkins. Standing are Dean Hartzell and Dick Duez. Photos courtesy of Cydney Romito. Click HERE to read his obituary.