Bob Philbrick, the most remarkable “average person” I have ever met, died recently at age 82.

He was the only person in my life (non-president, non-governor, non-Hollywood superstar) whom I routinely welcomed with this greeting: “You know you are full of crap, right?” Then, we would both laugh.

Bob was a fixture in Gorham. Lived on Narragansett Street. Raised nine kids there with wife Mary. Former teacher and coach in South Portland, he made perhaps his greatest mark on the state of Maine with involvement in American Legion baseball the past nearly 70 years.

In Legion baseball, his resume is both voluminous and fascinating: Player, coach, umpire, league official.

The most impressive thing he did as far as I was concerned?

Bob, a true dinosaur decided he was going to approach this young generation of “20-something coaches” and be nicer, kinder, humbler and more delicate than he had to be – and offer them the benefit of his 50-plus years of Legion baseball experience.

Ken Dolloff, Scarborough native and D-Day veteran, once said, “In my generation, everybody wanted to serve in the military – that is how we defined ourselves, and how society identified us. Today? Young men want to coach sports teams. That is the biggest thing in their world.”

Bob Philbrick agreed.

He would observe a young coach who was having trouble with any number of things: Supplying umpires with enough baseballs during a game, scheduling games sufficiently in advance to allow the team to attract adequate players to each game, or vocal parents either hollering at players and “coaching” them, and/or either lingering too near the dugout, or even entering in the dugout.

He would approach the coach at some point and kind of, as my late mother would say, “play dumb,” and stumble through some discussion points with the coach, designed to help the coach, in a humble, understated way.

In later years, he branched out and developed what we called his “Columbo approach.” Play dumb, tip toe your way up to the coach, and always say, “Now I don’t know much about this stuff, or about baseball really, but I was thinking, gee, you maybe, might want to try…” this method or strategy, or that.

I soon saw him doing this with many young people – always in a non-threatening manner, but almost always effectively.

But he was also world-class disingenuous about it! I decided to have some fun, and call him on it.

“Bob,” I said one day to him in the dugout, “you DO know you are full of crap, right?

He then played dumb with me – until he saw that I had moved my face to within about l8 inches of his, and was prepared for a smiling-face “stare down contest.”

He then would giggle, and say, “Well, I was just trying to help the fellow with the umpires, you know…”

Rest in peace, Bob. “A giant never stands so tall as when he stoops to help a child” as the old saying goes.

You had a ton of knowledge and were still dispensing it on your death bed. In a kind, gentle, understated way often.

Even if you sometimes pulling the wool over America’s eyes in a good way.

Dan Warren is a trial lawyer in Scarborough. He can be reached by private Facebook message at the Jones & Warren Attorneys at Law page, or by email at jonesandwarren@gmail.com.