Hope springs eternal as a sports collection is shed

Autographed boxing gloves are seen in Bob Hope’s basement, which holds his sports memorabilia collection for sale, Friday, Aug. 23, 2019, in Stone Mountain, Ga. With a name that made him easy to remember, Hope built a behind-the-scenes career as a hype man, a PR wizard who worked for various sports teams around Atlanta before launching his own firm and setting off on a quixotic, around-the-world quest to make friends and move the needle. (AP Photo/Andrea Smith)

STONE MOUNTAIN, Ga. — He ambles through the sprawling house, through the trove of treasures from a most interesting life, taking one last look at the autographed baseballs and signed jerseys, boxing gloves and football helmets, Olympic pins and an oil painting of Hank Aaron.

Every memento comes with a story.

Like Herschel Walker’s framed No. 34 jersey from his final season with the Philadelphia Eagles.

“That’s significant to me and a few people because … there’s only one (season) in the history of the NFL when a player has run 90 yards for a touchdown, caught a 90-yard touchdown pass and run a kickoff back 90 yards or more,” he says. “A lot of people don’t even know he played for the Eagles.”

With a name that made him easy to remember, Bob Hope built a behind-the-scenes career as a hype man, a public-relations wizard who worked for various sports teams around Atlanta before launching his own firm and setting off on a quixotic, around-the-world quest to make friends and move the needle.

He would take on pretty much any project that came his way, as long as it included a paycheck and a challenge. He worked with entrenched entities such as the Olympics. He took the lead on dreamy ideas such as the Silver Bullets, an all-female baseball team that barnstormed the country in the mid-1990s, looking to break down barriers and capitalize on the popularity of “A League of Their Own.”

“If you’re going to fail, fail big,” Hope likes to say. “If I’m going to strike out, I want it to be at the World Series.”

There have been more hits than misses, to be sure. He hobnobbed with Muhammad Ali, persuaded Tubby Smith to step into a boxing ring with Evander Holyfield for a charity bout, counts Aaron and Ted Turner among his closest friends.

Now, it’s time to move on.

Susan, his wife of 46 years, died two years ago after a fierce fight with cancer. She was the one who curated the vast collection of sports memorabilia that her husband accumulated along the way, transforming the basement of their suburban, three-story home near Stone Mountain into a virtual museum.

Every autographed baseball was meticulously labeled and placed in a clear case. Yogi Berra, Kirby Puckett, Tom Seaver, Whitey Ford, Tony Gwynn, Warren Spahn, John Smoltz, they’re all here. Autographed footballs got much the same treatment. Jerseys and posters were framed.

“An organized hoarder,” Hope calls his late wife, breaking into a wistful smile.