|
The
boy's team championship trophy is awarded in honor of the memory of
Steve Baksa. The following is from a February 8, 1995 Albuquerque Journal
article written by Rick Wright.
 Baksa
Fought To Keep APS Kids On The Right Track
Steve Baksa grew up on a vegetable farm in Ohio, and his post-school
afternoons were spent tending to family corn and soybeans. Sports? The
inclination was there but never the time.
"He just didn't get a chance to do that sort of thing," says
his daughter, Paula Stein. "The farm had to come first."
Yet, Baksa, who died (February 2, 1995) at the age 71, spend most of
his life growing healthy kids-making sure they experienced what he had
missed.
Long known as Mr. Track and Field in Albuquerque high school athletics
circles, Baksa presided over the press box at APS track meets for more
than 27 years. He also was the public address announcer for APS football
games at Wilson Stadium until suffering a mild stroke.
But Baksa, an APS elementary school coach from 1946-89, did far more
than just man a microphone. He assembled track and field records for
every high school and every stadium in the state while maintaining a
list of the top marks in each event each week during each season.
"He probably had every record for high school track since they
started keeping records," Stein says. "His records were absolutely
immaculate.
APS Athletic Director Buddy Robertson, who has been running track meets
for APS since the mid-70's says Baksa made his job much easier.
"Steve was Mister Track, no question about it," Robertson
says. "He was there long before I was, taking care of things. He
was really the focal point of high school track in Albuquerque.
Before coming to Albuquerque, Baksa had spent 18 years coaching high
school football and track in and around Elyria, Ohio. He also was a
high school principal.
Stein says track and field became Baksa's love because of a team he
coached at Avon High School, near Elyria.
"He just had the particular group of kid one year that just win
your heart," she says. "Avon went to the state track meet
that year for the first time in years, and it just blossomed from there."
Eventually, Baksa and his family-wife Maxine, daughters Paula and Laura
(Sandry)-tired of the Ohio winters and came west.
"We happened to be passing through Albuquerque," Stein says,
"and (Baksa) just stopped to see if he could get a job.
"The only thing available was elementary school phys ed, and he
was terrified because he'd always worked with high school kids. But
he took a deep breath and said OK. After a year or so, he said he couldn't
imagine going back to coaching high school."
Baksa coached for 25 years at Bellehaven and Eubank elementary schools
before retiring in 1989.
"In a school of 350 to 400 kids," Stein says, "he knew
all their names. He could look across the playground and call every
one by name."
Baksa loved kids, he loved track and field and he had a fine sense of
humor. But he also was disciplinarian who didn't hesitate to order athletes
and hangers-on out of the press box, no matter how cold the Albuquerque
spring wind.
A Critic, a Friend
Nor did Baksa, a track and field purist, suffer track and field fools
easily. A run-in with the gruff "Mr. Baxter" (for the first
year I covered high school track, I thought that was his name) was a
rite of passage for each succeeding prep track writer.
Once he got you straightened out, however, he became the best friend,
helper and source a track writer could have.
"The football players get a lot of recognition, and so do the basketball
players," Stein says. "My father always felt it was important
that those kids (track athletes) got recognition too-that people you
their names and got the information."
The stroke he suffered ended Baksa'a stint as the football PA announcer
at Wilson (though, Robertson says, he still filled in occasionally).
He manned the track and field press box, however, last spring as usual.
That meant recruiting and organizing crews to run each event (duties
handled before Roberson came on board); collecting and tabulating event
cards transferring event results to the green meet folders; warning
athletes who weren't participating to get off the infield, and to watch
for runners on the track; keeping the meat on schedule, and many other
duties. He did this virtually every spring Saturday, seven to ten hours
a day, for almost 30 years.
And to his very last day, Baksa was counting on another year of the
same.
"The last thing I said to him in the hospital," Stein says,
"was I'll see you tomorrow"
"He smiled and said, "No, no, I'll be at a track meet."
|
|
