in sunny Arizona, King stuck with Speedos and flip flops.

King loved jazz, the opera, art, food, Russian literature. He lived on a boat, drove cars that would not meet the current standard of "beater" and poured his passion and quirks into incredibly broadcast riffs that made every game he called better for his observation of it.His peers loved and respected him. Bay Area sports fans still hear his calls of some of the great moments in sports history. We can hear the final minutes of the Warriors 1975 NBA Championship sweep. We can hear his call of the Holy Roller against San Diego in 1978. He was, and in our mind's ear, still is the voice of the Raider, A's and Warriors.

I developed a life long passion forthe game of basketball in part because I was able to listen to Bill King's word pictures of the game. King was a great observer, who told the truth. He wasn't afraid to make his opinions known at courtside. King told the refs what he thought while keeping the rest of us informed. He was never a "homer", but he never forgot who was listening and he could be our advocate at times.

The tributes keep coming. From the fans, from his peers, from the team owners, from the players. One of the best I've read comes from San Francisco Chronicle columnist, Ray Ratto:

"... he was fearless. He said what he saw, not what he was told to say. He was accurate always, and he was witheringly critical when