Largely unbeknownst to them, generations of Atlanta sports fans were served by the expertise of Miller Pope.
A radio engineer whose skill and conscientiousness helped bring to air literally thousands of Falcons, Hawks, Atlanta United, Georgia and Georgia Tech games, Pope died unexpectedly Monday at the age of 65.
“He was the guy that everybody turned to when things were going to you know what,” Hawks play-by-play man Steve Holman, who began working with Pope in the 1980s, told The Atlanta Journal-Constitution. “And he would get it together, and we’d somehow get every broadcast on no matter what happened and what went down. A line went down or something like that, Miller would always have the solution for it.”
And entirely known to them, the wide circle of friends and colleagues in Atlanta’s sports community and beyond that Pope developed over a career spanning five decades was enriched by his kindness, humor and archive of stories and industry gossip. Said Holman, “Everybody liked Miller.”
Pope, who lived in Kennesaw, grew up in Thomasville wanting to be a part of the radio industry. His love for the medium stemmed from listening to Florida State football broadcasts emanating from nearby Tallahassee, Florida, his cousin Debbie Smith said. After about a year at Valdosta State, he left for Atlanta around 1980 to try to break into the field.
Pope’s father, retired from the military, sent him to Atlanta with the directive that “if it worked, it worked, and if it didn’t, he was going in the army,” Smith said.
He soon found employment as a spotter for Falcons radio broadcasts. It was the start of a career that kept him in the middle of the Atlanta sports scene until his death. He was the radio engineer for Atlanta United’s Saturday night game at Mercedes-Benz Stadium on 92.9 FM.
As a radio engineer at sporting events, Pope’s responsibilities included making sure that broadcast equipment was working properly, that the broadcast was connected back to the home station and that the sounds of the game and the accompanying call were balanced.
It was a job he performed with excellence and diligence. For Hawks home games, Holman’s routine is to show up at State Farm Arena at 4:30 p.m. for a 7:30 p.m. tipoff. Upon arrival, he invariably found Pope already there having set up the equipment for the call. Wes Durham, who worked with Pope during his time at Tech and then with the Falcons, recalled the small touch that Pope provided of always making sure that the booth was stocked with bottled water.
Tech commentator Randy Waters described “just extreme level of competence.” Atlanta United play-by-play voice Mike Conti called him “ultra-reliable.” Durham deemed him “a great teammate.” Pope’s experience and technical know-how came to the aid of broadcast teams — and by extension, their listeners — probably more than even they realized.
“He was very proud of his work and what he did, and he wanted everything to be perfect, but you couldn’t have been around a nicer guy,” said former Tech football coach Paul Johnson, who got to know Pope from his weekly coaches show.
“I just know that Miller always had the best interest of our broadcast in mind,” Tech voice Andy Demetra said. “He would always tell us if something was getting sideways. And, at the same time, he’d be very affirming if he felt like we were doing a good job. It was so wonderful to have that resource in the booth or at courtside with you that you knew would help steer the broadcast in the direction it needed to because Miller knew front and back what made good radio and good broadcasting in Atlanta.”
First as a spotter and then as an engineer, Pope served many of Atlanta’s most notable sports broadcast voices over the years, including Larry Munson, Al Ciraldo, Brad Nessler, Durham and Holman and a younger generation that includes Brandon Gaudin, Demetra and Conti. His work with the Falcons and Tech football and men’s basketball radio broadcasts extended the longest. Pope was inducted into the Georgia Radio Hall of Fame in 2020, one of the few members honored for his work as an engineer as opposed to an on-air talent.
“I am one of many people who’ve benefited from his professionalism and his friendship, there’s no question about that,” Durham said.
The friendship part, too, Pope mastered. Easily identifiable with his hulking stature, short haircut and ever-present smile, Pope could be what Demetra called “charmingly cynical” but also was “as sweet and selfless a person as you could ever hope to meet.” Durham remembered his willingness to help younger people just getting their start in the radio business. Demetra saw him hand out gift cards to Tech basketball student managers as thanks for loading his bulky radio equipment onto the team charter. When Holman’s grandchildren visited him at the radio table, Pope set them up with headsets to listen in.
“He saw me at some pretty low points in my career, and he always tried to say something to make it better,” said Conti, the Atlanta United play-by-play man.
And the stories — Pope had plenty of tales from the industry to share, recollections dating to his first days in Atlanta. “He always had the good scoop,” said Scott Howard, the radio voice of UGA.
A running joke was that a book by Pope about Atlanta sports would have juice by the barrel.
“He said, ‘No, I would have to betray the trust of a lot of people,’” Waters said, emphasizing “a lot.”
The games in Atlanta will have to carry on without a singular force to help bring them to air. And plants that Pope kept at his cousin’s home in Marietta will need someone to nurture them.
To get away from work, Pope, who was divorced and without children, tended a garden that included tomatoes, okra and squash at his cousin’s home in Marietta and called from the road to tell her when to water or not water. There, he also planted a brightly colored flower garden for his aunt Betty Pope that she can see from her bedroom. (He was also an animal lover, having cared for a rescue dog named Baabaa, whom he inherited from his sister. Smith asked that gifts in his memory be made to Releash Atlanta, a dog rescue agency.)
Word of his death on social media prompted an outpouring of memories of his friendship and kindness. Hope prevailed that he was aware of the great affection that so many had for him.
“He was just one of those guys that everybody liked and everybody leaned on,” Holman said. “And now with him not here, it’ll never be the same again. Any of our broadcasts, they’ll continue as life goes on, but the broadcasts will have the different feel to it every night. Because every night, of course, we’re going to think about Miller.”
