Smith: Edwin Pope did not prefer critic's role, but honored truth

When Edwin Pope, longtime Miami Herald columnist, died last week, there were many fine tributes to the Athens native, who became sports editor of the Athens Banner-Herald before he got his first driver’s license.

None of the obits pointed out, however, that he was the paper’s first (and only) sports editor to wear short pants. Further, a seasoned editor admonished him early on that it was not within the guidelines of the paper for him to write about himself when he helped his YMCA win an important game, noting that “Edwin Pope played a critical role in the team’s victory.”

While John Edwin, which his close friends called him, was not a man of vanity, he committed his faux pas because of overt enthusiasm for his team. That was a valuable lesson for him in his precocious years in that it was a good influence for one who would spend his lifetime dealing with immodest men—coaches and athletes—who never understood that critics of performance were not ignoramuses who should be banished from the practice field if they advanced their provincial opinions into newsprint.

I would suspect that a majority of today’s sports fans who remember the verbose and caustic Howard Cosell of ABC-TV would fail to appreciate what he meant when he wrote his autobiography, “I Never Played the Game.” Coaches and players unfailingly hold the notion that media types are not qualified to write about sports because they never experienced actual “combat.” Does this mean that theatre critics must be performers before they can evaluate a stage production?

When Dan Jenkins, one of the giants of our time in sports journalism, asked Frank Broyles, then the coach at Arkansas, a question about his counterpart at Texas, Darrell Royal, Broyles said: “He (Darrell) has done more for the wide tackle six defense that anybody in coaching.” Jenkins, who happened to be a good friend of Royal’s said, “Frank who gives a (expletive) about that?”

The truth is that sportswriters don’t know X’s and O’s, but who said they have to in order to write insightfully about the glory and beauty of the games we love? Edwin Pope belongs in the pantheon of those writers who were truthful with their readers, willing to challenge egos and unwilling to suffer fools lightly, like Jenkins and Bill Heinz, whose name for today’s sports fans, would not ring a bell. But “look him up” and you’ll gain an appreciation for cogent and insightful writing that turned heads in his prime. Like Red Smith, who was an essayist whose prose will be long remembered. Like Furman Bisher, with whom Pope sparred incessantly when he was a member of the Atlanta Journal sports staff but greatly admired by Pope as a columnist.

Edwin, similar to most sportswriters I have known over the years, did not prefer the critic’s role. He much preferred opportunity, like the time he was covering Wimbledon and chose to hike through the country side and write about the experience. He would walk from community to community, interviewing the citizenry, dining and imbibing in local pubs and telling his readers about the colorful everyday men and women of jolly old England and what their thoughts and habits were.

This is not to say that there has not been some incompetency and irresponsibleness in sports journalism. Plenty of it, by the way. I often chuckle at the comment made by the colorful Irishman, Danny Murtaugh, who once managed the Pittsburgh Pirates: “When I have a critical situation late in the eighth or ninth inning with men on base, I know exactly who I should bring in to pitch, but I just can’t pry him away from his scotch and water in the press box.” He had a point, but so did Howard Cosell.

John Edwin was about loyalty—he was eternally linked emotionally to the Athens Y Camp and sent his son there. He wanted his offspring to enjoy the inspiration of the mountains he learned to appreciate as a boy.

Some of the most enjoyable times I have enjoyed over the years have been interacting with the greats who played the game, but also those greats who never suited up. Sportswriters may not know a lot about the subtleties of sport, but as much as I have enjoyed the performers and the analysts, I have to say there haven’t been many players and coaches who knew a hell of a lot about literature.

Edwin Pope, who covered local sports for the Athens Banner-Herald by riding his bicycle to the events he wrote about, enjoyed friendships with many of the accomplished athletes of his time. In writing about them and their performances, he never failed to honor the truth. No journalist could ever get to the heart of a story better than this University of Georgia graduate. No journalist could humble a vainglorious and egotistical superstar more definitively than this Athens native and few could sing the praises of an accomplished athletic performer than John Edwin Pope who never played the game, but passionately loved it just the same.