I’m having a difficult time writing.
He was too young, too sincere, and too kind to have been taken from our grasp at 35. He was supposed to be a husband, father, and the voice of FC Dallas for as far into the future as we can all see. Selfishly, he was to be my mentor and friend as I learned more about the soccer industry.
I can still hear his voice as I walk around the training pitch at Pizza Hut Park the day after the world heard about his sudden death. I see him approach me as I lean across the fence gazing out at the FC Dallas squad grinding through their workout.
Wearing his sporty sunglasses, holding a Styrofoam cup of coffee, and displaying a thousand watt smile that made visitors and regulars both feel special, Bobby Rhine was the center of attention at FC Dallas training sessions.
He made everyone laugh, joked with the players as he juggled the soccer ball, talked about the Sunday soccer league that he participated in with younger players who made him feel old, and acted in the usual self-deprecating manner that made him a special human being.
To think that he will never cross that street in between Pizza Hut Park and the training field brings tears to my eyes and pain to my heart.
During these practices, I had the privilege to spend valuable time picking his brain about nearly everything. My questions were ceaseless. Did you ever get a national team call-up? Do your boys play soccer? How good is Barcelona at soccer? In retrospect, it’s as if my heart and soul knew to make the most of my time with Bobby because life is so uncertain.
We chatted about topics ranging from the future of the FC Dallas organization (which he saw as being very bright) to the ridiculous heat he experienced while playing at Dragon Stadium in 2003 to his wedding to his wife Bevan in Mexico.
He talked about his wife frequently and smiled and laughed at all the adventures they’d taken together. When I asked who he was going to the Barcelona-Club America match with in early August, he smiled big, looked at me, and said he was taking his older son. He was so proud to be sharing that moment with him.
In these moments I forgot that he was the former Dallas Burn/FC Dallas great that sits high upon the U.S. soccer throne of influence. In these moments he was my friend, and he was my mentor.
You see, Bobby helped get me started in the soccer industry and as I view it now, his impact on my life is just a microcosm of what he did for others. He was selfless and he was genuine in everything he did. He made you feel special.
While in the process of becoming the FC Dallas beat writer, Bobby made me feel right at home. He introduced me to all the people I needed to know and emailed me several times early on in my tenure, telling me I was doing a great job.
His words of encouragement gave me the confidence to improve and find the angle that connects the fans to the players. He even sent me a text message one day out of the blue telling me that my morning tweets were great. It was these instances that Bobby Rhine expressed his natural ability to make you feel larger than life.
I remember when I first met him during an internship I did with FC Dallas in 2009. A thin wall separated our cubicles and I overheard every one of his conversations to the families of Academy players, in Spanish. He was doing his best to communicate to the parents in Spanish because they didn’t understand him. And while Bobby didn’t speak great Spanish, he sure did try, so as to have the most well-received message he could.
My last chat with Bobby happened during the reserve game against Real Salt Lake in mid-August. As usual, he complained (like we all did) about the 100-degree heat and how he was sweating right through his clothes. And as usual on his walkup to the field, he looked at me and said, “Robert, great to see you man. How have you been?” Not the standard “how are you” nor the “what’s up?” but “ it’s great to see you.”
‘Wow, Bobby Rhine is genuinely happy to see me today,’ I thought to myself. His voice will forever echo around the stadium and his laugh will be forever etched in my head. It was this sincerity that made Bobby one of the most likeable people I’ve ever met.
It’s eerily ironic that Bobby’s last game called from the booth was a 3-2 come-from-behind victory over Sporting Kansas City three weeks ago because that game had Bobby’s character written all over: passion, determination, and joy for the game.
I miss you Bobby and will forever hold close to my heart the conversations that we shared, the wisdom that you instilled in me, and the guidance that you supplied to jumpstart my career in soccer. I have you to thank for my career path and you to thank for providing me with courage as I live my life from this day forward. We miss you Bobby, and will do our best to emulate your passion for soccer and life itself.
Robert Casner covers FC Dallas for MLSsoccer.com. He can be reached
at rmcasner@gmail.com and on
Twitter: @rmcasner.