I've never met Ryan Davis. I've never talked to him, I've never had a retweet from him, I've never had an email read by him. To all intent and purposes, Ryan Davis had no idea that I even existed.
And yet, his death hit me harder than I thought it would. Partly because it came absolutely out of nowhere. Who would think that someone at the age of 34, just a week after becoming a husband, would no longer be around to crack jokes, bellow with laughter, and smile like he just won the lottery?
To someone who has listened every week to Ryan and Jeff (and later Brad, Vinny, & Patrick); Ryan became a friend of mine. He didn't know it, but he didn't have to. I looked forward to hearing the gang's antics over the weekend, their opinions on games I was interested in, and their thoughts on various candies and energy drinks sent to them on a weekly basis.
And this went on for years. Every week, 2-3 hours, I became attached to those on the Giant Bombcast. That sounds creepy, but it's true. And I know others have the same feelings.
Ryan is one of those people that exude personality, even when all I have to go off of is a video of him playing a video game, opening a box, or just the audio of a podcast talking about his arcade cabinet. I've never heard a single negative thing said about him from the Internet, and as we all know, that's damn near impossible.
My condolences go out to Ryan's family and friends who should not have to face the harsh reality of a bright life extinguished such as Ryan's.
We will all miss you Ryan. Thank you for the years of fun, entertainment and laughs that you gave me even in some lousy times. Rest in Peace.
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