Ian Mulgrew's column in the Sun is very poignant:
Ackles an inspiration 'in every way'
Column: Ackles an inspiration 'in every way'
Ian Mulgrew
Vancouver Sun
Sunday, July 06, 2008
His real name was Robin, like the bird. He hated it: "Call me Bob."
Bob Ackles, the Waterboy, is gone - the one person more than any other who embodied the spirit, the heart and the soul of the B.C. Lions.
Now, for the first time since the team was formed in 1954, Bob Ackles will not be cheering them on.
The lowest member of the football team; the kid who couldn't eat with the players after practice, so he went hungry; the man who helped build championship teams in Vancouver and Dallas; the man who returned after 15 years in the NFL to restore the glory to B.C. Place, my friend has left.
Suddenly, and without warning, Bob is dead. I am still in shock.
I came to know Bob personally only a few years ago but the impression he made on me was deep and profound.
Our pal Allan Fotheringham put us together because Bob wanted to write a book and Allan thought I was the guy to help him do it.
He was right - Bob and I hit it off.
Bob opened up his life to me and we became friends as well as collaborators. A book can be an incredible amount of work, but with Bob it was a joy.
The memories I have of the exuberant dinners, the belly laughs over photographs and memorabilia, the pain of last year's loss to Saskatchewan, the satisfaction of our book's success.
I have been replaying the moments, the good times and the bittersweet. It is difficult to believe we will share no more. It's over.
The moment I heard, I called Kay.
They met as teenagers, married and built a life together - their's was a true partnership.
She was shattered. We cried together over the phone line.
"I'm so happy he did the book Ian," she said between sobs.
I was in California and wanted nothing more than to throw my arms around her. She would be OK, their sons, Steve and Scott - real chips off the towering block that was their dad - were there.
Bob always said he was named Robin because of his insatiable appetite, like the bird, mouth opening and closing all the time.
It was apt: Not because of his hunger for food, but for life.
No one lived a life fuller or with more enthusiasm. And no one can claim to be as much of a stand-up guy.
I have yet to meet a single person who had a sour word to say about Bob. And I don't know anyone else I can say that about, especially me.
Bob cared. He cared about what people thought. He cared about doing the right thing. He cared about his family, about his neighbours, about his community.
In every way, he was an inspiration. We should all give back so freely and so gladly.
Bob leaves a large hole in my life and in the hearts of his family.
More than that, he leaves an emptiness on our public stage - he strove to make the world a better place and it is poorer without him.
His legacy is much more than a successful football franchise.
John Donne got it right when he said every death diminishes us, every passing erodes another piece of the main.
Already, I miss Bob immensely and I want to rage against the dying of his light.