Kings fans are a village, too...


Staff member
Posted by Carmichael Dave on Facebook today (8/27/2019)


This is Ryan Bashor and his son RJ.

This picture was taken in 2011, during the fight for the Kings.

I received a phone call from my son Mason’s teacher (and our dear friend) last night- Ryan passed away suddenly a couple days ago.

He was 38.

RJ and his Dad were avid listeners to KHTK. His Dad followed me since I used to call in, part of which probably because we are both locals and both around the same age.

I spoke to his wife Jessa last night at length, turns out Ryan was always shy at little league or back to school nights, as he didn’t want to “disturb me”. I never knew.
Had I known, I would’ve made it a point to initiate our conversations, and get to know him more.

Fortunately RJ never wanted any part of that! He’s the brightest, most lively kid ever. Anytime I saw him he’d bound up to me with a big high five, and tell ME about what I’d talked about on the show that day.

We all three shared a mutual love for the Kings, the Giants, and the Republic (Ryan was a TBB member). Ryan also idolized Will Clark, as I did.

A listener was nice enough to drop off a life size cardboard copy of a Will Clark baseball card at the station yesterday morning.

That was mere hours before i found out the news and spoke with Jessa. Spooky, right?

I think it’s beautiful.

Whenever there is a tragedy, the immediate response is always fantastic. Whether it’s a sudden passing, the Paradise fires last year, on and on- but what I’ve learned is it’s even more important to be there down the road:

Christmas. Ballgames. Ice cream. Whatever.

I know Jessa and RJ are surrounded by those that love them. But they’re a part of our community, and our sports family. And now they’re part of my family.

I’m writing this because I’ve once again been taught that no day should be taken for granted. And no relationship should be either. Our petty disagreements, our pride, and our thought that “I’ll get to it tomorrow” just aren’t logical.

Say I love you. Make that phone call. Reach out. Bury that hatchet. Make a difference.

Tomorrow is never a guarantee.

As for RJ, expect to see him with me this year at a few games. If you see a little spiky headed boy full of energy that isn’t my son (who has the energy of a potato), come give him a high five.

To say this hit home is an understatement. I hope if something should ever happen to me, you all would make an effort to help my wife and children in any way you deemed fit.

It takes a village.

We are all a family.

We are Sacramento.

And beyond that, we are all brothers and sisters, fathers and mothers, sons and daughters.

I love you all.

And if you can, please- anything helps.

If you can’t, please keep them in your thoughts.