The smile that was genuine rather than forced is what endures with Glenn Collins more than 61 years later.

Discovering a Robin Roberts baseball card after another nickel investment in Topps bubblegum was akin to winning a lottery for a 12-year-boy way back then, but there the legend-in-the-making was, right before Collins' eyes.

It was July 18, 1948 and Collins and his kid brother, Tom, were at Wrigley Field for a Sunday doubleheader (remember those?) between the Chicago Cubs and Philadelphia Phillies. The Phillies had just sort of captured Collins' heart for reasons that escape him today, but crossing paths with this rookie pitcher secured him as a Phillie Fanatic for life.

"Between the games that day, my brother and I went and stood by the gated area where the players came out of the visiting team's dugout and walked up steps to get to the clubhouse," said the 72-year-old Collins, who has owned his own barber shop in Waterford since 1961. "It was Roberts' first year and he stopped to talk to my brother and I and said, 'Hey, guys, how are you doing? Where are you from?'

"We said, 'Wisconsin,' and he said, 'Oh, my wife's from Wisconsin. She's from McFarland. I met her at Michigan State when I was there. If you kids just wait a minute, I'll be right back.'

"Well, he came back with two Phillie hats and that did it."

Whether the good old days were really that good is subject to debate. But what a lot of old-timers insist is that there was a greater sense of closeness and camaraderie that seem to have been depleted with the passing of years.

And with that simple act of kindness during that chance encounter, Roberts won over Collins for life.

His heart beat at the age of 13 for the 1950 "Whiz Kids" of Roberts, Jim Konstanty, Del Ennis and Richie Ashburn, who ended a 35-year postseason drought by the Phillies, only to be swept in the World Series by Joe DiMaggio's mighty New York Yankees. He agonized as a 27-year-old barber in 1964 when Gene Mauch's Phillies blew a 6½-game lead with 12 to play and squandered the National League pennant.

He rejoiced as a 43-year-old father of three when the Phillies of Pete Rose, Mike Schmidt and Steve Carlton finally popped open that celebratory champaign by winning the 1980 World Series. And he's been a giddy grandpa these past two years as his Phillies made back-to-back trips to the

Fall Classic.

It all goes back to a young pitcher who made the time for two hero-worshipping boys. And it continues to this day with the shrine for the Phillies that Collins has set up in the little barber shop at 306 E. Main St. that he bought from the late Ed Flynn's family in 1961.

Visit Collins' place and you'll be greeted by dozens and dozens of pictures, hats, books, baseball cards and even some uniforms. His prized possession? No question it's the autographed ball that a Hall-of-Fame pitcher and 286-game winner named Roberts signed for him.

"I wouldn't give that up for anything," Collins said.

Not that all of Collins' customers have been trying to talk him out of his prized artifacts.

"There's a very good friend who gives me a rough time all the time," Collins said. "He says, 'I know why you keep this barber shop. Your wife wouldn't let you take all this (expletive) home and put it up!' "

But it's what exists in Collins' heart which is what matters. And what bothers him more than anything is how the personal contact that won over his allegiance for a lifetime has been damaged beyond repair by the big money that some would say drained so much charm out of baseball.

"It was sad not to see them win this year, but how do you compete against $240 million worth of new ballplayers (on the Yankees)?," Collins said.

And with that, this kindly barber becomes pointed.

"I don't think this baseball commissioner (Bud Selig) is what we need," Collins said.

"I think Mr. Selig gets $17 million a year for what? What does he do? He does what the owners want him to do and he complains, 'We've got the baseball players' union,' but when are these salaries going to stop?

"It's got to stop. It can't keep going this way. I'm turned off on the way Bud Selig is running baseball. I'm just not happy with Mr. Selig."

It's just not the same anymore. And that's when Collins can't help but reflect on meeting Roberts so many years ago.

"If the ballplayers today would just take the time," he said. "I go to the ballpark and I see the kids standing out there. Would it hurt the players to walk over there, sign a few autographs and talk to the kids?

"That's where they make their fans from."

Collins speaks from experience when he says that.

Peter Jackel is a reporter for The Journal Times. You may contact Peter at (262) 634-3322, Ect. 323, or by e-mail at pjackel@journaltimes.com