Here’s a untold story about ‘Mr. Sports’ in Macon. It involves a tie.

Call me old-fashioned, but I wear a tie to school every day.

My students notice. One curious young man wondered if I had a different tie for every day of the year. No, I told him, but I do have a battery-operated tie rack that holds 72 ties. I keep others around for sentimental reasons. So, I probably have enough to get me through at least a semester, if I wanted.

A few weeks ago, I let my granddaughters, ages 5 and 2, pick out my tie for the next work day. They managed to color coordinate and were more than slightly adorable, if I might say so myself.

Earlier this year, I went four months without wearing a tie, which is unusual for me. I was “sheltering” at home most of the time, so there was no need to dress up during the shutdown. The streak lasted from March 16 -- the day school closed because of the pandemic -- until July 17, when I was the guest speaker at the Dublin Exchange Club.

My tie collection pulled double duty this past Sunday when I wore a traditional coat and tie to church, then recruited an oldie-but-goodie from the depths of the closet for later that afternoon.

The tie was more than 25 years old and was wider across the bottom than today’s style. But, as my father used to say, if you hang on to your clothes long enough, eventually they will come back in style.

It was one of those “Save the Children” ties that were popular in the 1990s. It was designed by a 13-year-old girl named Lisa, whose name and age was printed on the inside.

The colorful tie is called “Dad’s Day” and tells a story from top to bottom, beginning with alarm clocks ringing, cooking breakfast, taking the kids to school, driving to work, eating supper and going to bed. As a dad, I could relate, and I receive compliments every time I wear it. It truly is a conversation starter.

That tie is in my wardrobe because of Bobby Pope. He didn’t give it to me, but he might as well have. I wore it Sunday afternoon to honor him at a memorial for the man known by many as “Mr. Sports” in Macon.

When Bobby died on Sept. 6 at age 75, we lost one of the redwoods in our community. He was a walking encyclopedia of local sports knowledge and one of the finest gentlemen I’ve ever known.

In these pandemic times, we haven’t always been able to properly pay our respects for those who have passed way. Many heartfelt eulogies have gone undelivered in recent months because funerals have been limited to family and close friends or rescheduled.

The gathering was held at the Georgia Sports Hall of Fame, where Bobby once served as executive director and inducted as a member eight months ago.

About 100 people – all wearing masks – attended with socially distanced stadium seating in the HOF theater. For more than an hour, we passed the baton of “Bobby” stories.

We talked about how this kind and humble man helped us, encouraged us and seemed to have a nickname for just about everybody. Many shared about how he had helped them get scholarships or found them jobs. He was as well-connected as anyone.

He was a huge Alabama fan — so we’ll have to forgive him for that — and one everyone wondered what he might have to say about this week’s Georgia-Alabama game. Trying to sneak a sports trivia question by Bobby was like trying to sneak the sun past a rooster. He had a dry wit, too, like the time he stood up at a Macon Touchdown Club meeting and said the best thing about playing soccer was you didn’t have to watch it.

A few weeks after Bobby died, the United Way of Central Georgia nominated Macon’s Jeff Battcher to be featured as a “Hometown Hero” on the Atlanta Braves broadcasts.

It was arranged to have a cardboard cutout of Jeff behind home plate for the Braves final regular season homestand. Jeff, who organized the city’s R.B.I. program for inner city youth, wanted to replace his cut-out with one of Bobby. In a nice gesture, the Braves put both cardboard figures on the front row to the third base side of home plate.

I am thankful I was able to honor Bobby by writing a column about him last spring. He was appreciative. I asked to say a few words at the Sunday gathering, and share a few of my own Bobby stories.

So, I told about the tie. I reminisced about the time I had been assigned to cover a Mercer baseball game and Bobby the first person to greet me at the gate. I was wearing a tie my wife had bought me -- my first (of many) “Save the Children” ties.

“I know where you got that that tie and how much you paid for it,’’ he said. “Twenty-five bucks. Belk-Matthews.’’

That’s right, I said. “I know where you can get that same tie for $10,’’ he said. He told me about a clothing outlet off Howell Mill Road in Atlanta called K&G. Although my family always has been committed to shopping locally, we made several trips to Atlanta to stock up on those ties. I bet I have close to 20.

I think about all the pleasure they have brought me, and the joy they have brought to those around me.

Every time I wear one, I think of Bobby Pope.

One man stood up Sunday and said, “Everything Bobby touched, he made it better.’’

Ed Grisamore teaches journalism at Stratford Academy in Macon. His column appears on Sundays in The Telegraph.