There comes a point in life when you begin to realize that the people who shaped your childhood, the larger-than-life figures who seemed permanent, are slowly slipping away. It’s a strange kind of grief. Not always because they’ve died, but because time has begun taking pieces of the world you grew up in.

For me, two of those giants are Bobby Cox and Ted Turner.

To me, they are part of the foundation of my childhood.

I was 10 years old in 1991 when the Atlanta Braves went from worst to first. Before that season, Braves baseball was something you watched because it was there. Something your dad had on in the living room. Something that filled summer nights, well because we only picked up 3 channels on our television. However, 1991 changed everything. That was when I learned how to tomahawk chop. Like so many kids across Georgia and throughout the South, I sat glued to the television every night at 7:05 p.m. because that was Braves time. You didn’t need a streaming subscription. You didn’t need an app. You just needed TBS. And somehow, no matter where you lived, the Braves were yours. Thanks Ted.

The music, the opening graphics, Skip Caray’s voice, the hum of Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium, it all felt magical. It became routine, but it never felt ordinary. At the center of it all was Bobby Cox.

Cox wasn’t flashy. He wasn’t loud in the way modern managers often seem to be. He wasn’t interested in becoming the story. But in so many ways, he was the heartbeat of that team. During his tenure as manager, Cox transformed the Braves from baseball’s basement into one of the greatest dynasties the sport has ever seen. He managed Atlanta from 1978 to 1981, then returned in 1990 for the run that would define a generation. Under his leadership, the Braves won 14 consecutive division titles, five National League pennants, and a World Series championship in 1995.

Think about that for a moment. An entire childhood, my entire adolescence, was marked by Braves playoff baseball. For many kids, summer ended with school. For Braves fans, it ended when October baseball did. Bobby Cox gave us that. Thanks Skipper.

He also gave us something else. Something this generation of athletes seems to lack: loyalty.

His players loved him. They would run through walls for him. His famous arguments with umpires and record-setting ejections weren’t tantrums, they were protection. He defended his team fiercely. As a kid, watching him storm onto the field, hat bouncing, finger pointing, felt like watching your grandfather fight for your family.

And then there was Ted Turner. If Bobby Cox built the Braves dynasty, Ted Turner made sure we could all watch it happen.

To say Ted Turner meant a lot to Atlanta would be an understatement. To say he meant a lot to me would be deeply personal.

Without Ted Turner, Atlanta may not be the sports city it became.

When others might have let the Braves leave, Turner bought the team in 1976 and kept them in Atlanta. That decision alone changed everything for generations of fans like me. But he didn’t stop there.

He also owned the Atlanta Hawks, helping anchor another major franchise in the city and reinforcing Atlanta as a legitimate sports market. Then, in a move that changed media forever, he created the “superstation” concept by broadcasting Braves games nationally on TBS.

That was revolutionary.

Because of Ted Turner, the Atlanta Braves became America’s team long before that phrase belonged to anyone else. Families in Georgia watched them. So did families in Alabama, Tennessee, the Carolinas, and places far beyond the South. Entire generations grew up believing Atlanta was their hometown team because Ted Turner put them in our living rooms every single night.

And Ted didn’t stop there either. He launched CNN, the world’s first 24-hour news network, forever changing journalism and how people consume information. He created TNT, the Cartoon Network, Turner Classic Movies, and so on and so on.

He transformed media.

And for kids like me, kids who loved sports but also loved spectacle, he changed professional wrestling forever. When Turner bought WCW and put Monday Nitro on TNT, he ignited the Monday Night Wars with WWE. If you weren’t there, it’s hard to explain how big that was. Monday nights became appointment television. You flipped between Nitro and Raw. You debated Goldberg versus Stone Cold. You watched Hulk Hogan turn heel and become Hollywood Hogan. Wrestling became mainstream again because Ted Turner was willing to compete.

It wasn’t just entertainment. It was another shared ritual of childhood.

Another memory tied to one man’s willingness to think bigger than everyone else.

That’s what Bobby Cox and Ted Turner have in common.

One built a baseball dynasty. The other built the stage where we all got to watch.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve started realizing how much of my childhood was shaped by people I never met.

Bobby Cox taught me what leadership looked like.

Ted Turner taught me what vision looked like.

Together, they gave me memories I still carry today: summer nights at 7:05, the tomahawk chop echoing through the house, playoff nerves in October, Monday night wrestling war, and the feeling that Atlanta was the center of the sports world.

Those moments weren’t just entertainment. They were part of growing up.

And as these men age, and as more of our childhood heroes leave us, I think it’s important to pause and remember what they gave us.

Not just wins.

Not just championships.

Not just television networks.

They gave us connection.

They gave us memories with our families.

They gave us something to believe in.

It still does.

Heroes like Bobby Cox and Ted Turner should never be forgotten.

Because for many of us, they helped build the childhoods we’ll spend the rest of our lives remembering.

Tony Potts, a Rome, Georgia native, has built a career in broadcasting and media spanning more than two decades. Since 1998, he has been a familiar voice in local sports coverage, bringing passion and insight to audiences across Northwest Georgia.

In 2001, Tony created and began hosting In The Zone, a sports talk radio show that has aired on both WRGA in Rome and WJTH in Calhoun. Over the years, he has also provided play-by-play coverage for Rome High School athletics, Rome Gladiators semi-professional football, and Rome Renegades arena football. Since 2006, Tony has served as the “Voice of Gordon Central High School Football” on Georgia 101.7, earning recognition for his dedication to local sports and his commitment to connecting communities through broadcasting.