With US Open Tennis Championship finals upon us, it is time to reflect on the late Bud Collins, who would have certainly been musing about this year’s final match-ups. In an obituary on March 5, 2016, the New York Times called Bud “the passionate, often irreverent face of tennis for nearly half a century in his Wimbledon broadcasts and his newspaper and magazine columns.” For me, Bud was a mentor who allowed me to be his intern during the 1984 US Open Tennis Championships in New York City.

“How did you get into the press box?” asked Bud as he peered down on my while I was sitting at his coveted seat in the middle of the press area at the US Open. “I told the security guard that I had an appointment to meet you and I had to get into the box. I told him I needed to see you in order to get my ID.”

“One day you are going to be a real success,” said Bud. My dear, it’s lovely to see you.”

After that, we got right to work. I moved over to the seat next to him. He asked me to check some facts for his story that day for the Boston Globe. I used the hard line telephone to make the calls. In those days we didn’t have cell phones.

In just a few minutes, we would be off and running together. He wore his colorful signature pants. I was in my tennis outfit. For some reason, I thought that if you were an intern for Bud Collins at some point you were going to play tennis. (The next day I wore my street clothes.)

As we walked around, Bud would introduce me to friends, players and journalists.

The usual suspects at the time included Mike Lupica of the New York Daily News. Leslie Visser, the first female NFL analyst on TV, was writing for the Boston Globe at the time.

The Italian journalists Giannie Clerici and Rino Tommasi were two of Bud’s best friends on the tour. Tommasi, who moonlighted as a columnist for the Italian dailies Il Temp and La Gazzetta dello Sport was a former top international boxing promoter who covered tennis. Clerici, a tennis player of distinction who made the main draw of Wimbledon in 1953, was a poet and wrote a well-received biography of the grande dame of tennis Suzanne Lenglen. The three of them, Bud, Giannie and Rino, were a shining trio that compared notes about matches, tennis and life — all the time. I was privileged to be part of their conversations that US Open.

Bud even introduced me to the late tennis player and journalist Arthur Ashe. “One day this young lady is going to be a well-known journalist,” he told Arthur. Arthur quietly agreed, “Yes, Bud.”

The experience was more than I could have ever imagined.

Seeing the players up-close-and-personal were amazing. Bud and I would go to every press conference together. We would sit in the front row. He would always ask the first (and best) questions.

He also coined the most creative names for the players on the tour. Gabriela Sabatini was the “Pearl of the Pampas,” Bjorn Borg was the “Angelic Assassin” and Steffi Graf was “Fraulein Forehand.”

That year in 1984, Martina Navratilova captured the second of her four US Open women’s singles championships by defeating Chris Evert 4-6, 6-4, 6-4. John McEnroe won the men’s finals over Ivan Lendle 6-3, 6-4, 6-1. It was quite the tournament.

The whole thing happened as a result of my friendship with a fellow junior tennis player from Long Island, Andrea Gerlin. She and I had played Eastern Tennis Association tournaments and often faced off. She was a year older, but we both ended up playing Harvard Varsity tennis.

A year earlier, Andrea had been Bud’s intern at the US Open. She had met him when she was a ball girl for the US Open. During a late-night match, she was asked to bring a dozen can of balls to the old Grand Stand court. They fell and scattered around her. “My dear, let me help you pick them up,” said Bud. Andrea was quite surprised by the gracious Bud Collins.

Bud wrote an article about her for the Boston Globe — about how ball girls should “get serious” and retire after age 20. After that, she reached out to him and asked him to be his intern. He obliged. The year after, she told Bud that I was going to follow in her footsteps.

I wrote Bud a letter and followed up by leaving a message at the Boston Globe. He called me back at my college dorm at 8am in the morning. “My dear, you are never in your room, so I had to call you early. I got your letter, and I am happy to have you as my intern during the US Open. “Wonderful, Bud,” I exclaimed. “I will be there.”

During that summer before the US Open, I also worked at the Greek Embassy in Washington DC. When I didn’t call Bud to confirm, he got a bit nervous and called Andrea. “My dear Andrea, I have not heard from Dorie all summer. Do you think she will show up at the US Open?” Andrea told me she said, “Don’t fret Bud. I know my Dorie and she will be there.”

When I arrived at the US Open, I realized I hadn’t worked out with Bud how I would meet him. How was I to find Bud? The only way I knew was to talk my way into the press box.

Thank goodness I made my way to Bud. Life has never been the same. Thanks to him, the internship paved the way for me to become a network television producer at NBC Sports, CBS Sports, as well as the Today Show on NBC.

When he learned during our time together that I was going to study at a graduate program in Geneva, Switzerland, he offered to “talk me up” to his NBC friends at NBC. I ended up getting a job as a production secretary for NBC Sports at Wimbledon. From my television work began.

Last year, the United States Tennis Association named the US Open Media Center after him — the Bud Collins Media Center. It’s located at the Arthur Ashe stadium. The old one I “talked my way into” is back at Louis Armstrong stadium.

On a plaque at the new Center, Bud is described as a “Journalist, Commentator, Historian, Mentor and Friend.” He was that to me and so many others in the world of tennis. For that, I am always grateful.