I am in shock.

I came across the news hearing just a small :10 sec blurb out of the corner of my ear. Totally focused on work, but working with an ear to the TV.

Working and punching keys. Occassionally reading the news scroll.

Supremely talented and gifted mixed-martial artist Evan Tanner had suddenly passed away at age 37. The Amarillo native had been camping in the mountainous desert of Southern California.

I found the news report and played it back. Evan was gone.

You have to understand, while I wasn't close personal friends with the guy, some of my friends were and we've been cheering him on for years. Not just for what he did as an athlete, but for what he did in life.

I always thought of him as a kindred spirit.

Being from West Texas, willing to take risks, always on a journey looking forward, and someone you wanted to see do well.

Before I knew anything about MMA or UFC-style fighting, I met Tanner out on the town in Amarillo. I was working there at a rock station and still getting to know everyone in town. We ended up speaking while at a small gathering. Frankly, we were both there for the women at an afterparty. While I did shots of tequilla and smoked like a chimney, he sat quietly with his arms and legs crossed drinking a bottled water.

Once he realized I had no clue who he was, he relaxed a bit and we talked for a short while.

Now, I can't even tell you the name of the girls we were there with but I remembered that conversation and asked around about him. Of course everyone knew Evan, geez some of my best friends grew up across the street from the guy. Man, did I feel stupid. He knew who I was and who my friends were. And I was supposed to be some plugged-in radio guy that knew everything about everyone.

I know this much, though... Evan's chic was WAY hotter than mine.

But anyway.

Even in the midst of anonymity with the temptations of young adult life offered free and without thought, he simply wasn't interested. I'll be the first to admit, this was long before I was married, long before I was a father of three, and as my momma always said, "Nothing good happens outside the house after midnight."

My obnoxious first impression cast aside, I got to meet Evan. Not "Evan Tanner" the legend.

The more I learned about Evan over the years I understood the focus of being driven to really "live life" and I always watched as he pursued his fighting career with great interest and enthusiasm. It's always more fun watching sports when you have a dog in the hunt, but with Evan you wanted him to win because you knew how hard he worked to get there.

I was amazed by his raw talent and his ability to instantly start working things out in his mind before ever showing his hand. Street smarts and natural instincts. I admire that. The school of hard knocks and I are old friends as well.

That's why we all loved to watch Evan throughout the years.

While living up in Washington State for a couple of years, perhaps fullfulling some of my own wanderlust, I heard Evan was living in Oregon. It made perfect sense.

As much as I hated the flat nothing that was West Texas, I loved the mountains, the rivers, the extremes of Northwestern living. I understand that drive and that ambition that Evan had about life.

That is why I am in shock.

I feel as most folks from Amarillo do hearing the news this week. Evan was an example of the kind of person you would like to be.

He died living life on his terms. You have to respect that.

That's what I brought away from that night I met Evan Tanner. Respect. And Texans are big on respect.

Texans are tough people and we're talking about the kid from Amarillo that could collapse your skull with a brutal set of elbows.

So, no I am not going to the Bulls/Jayhawks game tonight. I just don't have it in me tonight. I'll watch from home for a while and I'll drink my tequilla watered down with margarita mix, but I may watch some old Evan Tanner fighting highlights.

Good luck on your next journey, Evan.

See you at the afterparty.

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