Ryan...
I heard of your tragic passing very unexpectedly. I was scrolling through Kotaku, and was absolutely... shocked. torn apart. crippled. and dumbfounded by the news.
I'm a recently graduated senior from high school, and all throughout my highschool career, starting 4 years ago, I listened to the Giantbombcast on my iPod Nano, then my iPhone 4, and now my Galaxy S4 right before I went to sleep. There in bed, in the darkness of my room, I was transported to the San Francisco studio you and the rest of the Giantbomb crew sat in, talking about video games with such enthusiasm and levity. I have no one to talk about video games with in my real life. It's a hobby I keep mainly to myself, since no one in school really has any real passion for the depths of this great hobby.
Yet you were there, greeting me every week, offering some respite from the hectic day to the day life of a kid from Seattle. I was so lucky to have been able to see you and the rest of the giantbomb crew in person at 2012's PAX Prime in downtown Seattle. I only had the time to attend only the first day of PAX, and I ended my first PAX experience by attending the live show of the Giantbombcast. You guys were hilarious, poking fun at David Lang, messing around with doughnuts, and joking about how Patrick looked like a valet guy with his vest.
Before the show started, I took some very blurry pictures of you from my seat with my iPhone 4, and despite its blurriness, I'm honored to have captured a glimpse of one of my heroes and favorite personalities on earth.
During the live show, you walked past right by my seat while holding the mic up for people to ask questions to the giantbomb crew. It's just crazy to think that you, this amazing person who actually walked just a few inches away from my presence during that one, glorious night in Seattle, is now irrevocably absent from this earth.
It's just sad to think that there is no way I will ever be able to hear any more bombcasts from you. No more chances to see you in person. Basically no way to see you or your work on this SINGLE existence we have on Earth. I wish you grew old, and after producing decades and decades of more amazing work, made a bombcast with the entire crew, by then ripe with old age, reminiscing about the glory of today's era of games. But that future has now vanished. The video game industry is going to rapidly progress, and soon the Playstation 4 and the Xbox One will be old, and newer advancements will come. Advancements that you would have been stoked about, and new games that you will never have the chance to play. As I continue my life as a gamer, I will never forget about your legacy, and continue to reflect upon how amazingly lucky I am to be here on earth, and experience these things that you would have loved to experience as well.
Up till the terribly sad news of your death, I felt like life was perfect. I'm in the summer after the end of high school, with no more homework or tests to worry about, soon going to attend college at UC Berkeley this fall in the East Bay, living only a few miles away from you and the rest of the giantbomb crew. There was nothing terribly sad or troubling in my life up till this moment, but this tragedy has completely upturned the way I'm going to view life as it goes on.
I'm so glad you died doing what you love. You inspired me by truly pursuing your TRUE passion in life with such vigor, commitment, and most importantly FUN. As a soon-to-be-college student who's going to be faced with long-term life consequences and choices, I'm so conflicted about what I want to do with the rest of my life.
But I'm going to forever be inspired by how passionate you were with what you did, and how you touched the lives of so many people with your legendary personality. You were a legend in your field. To me, you are like the Steve Jobs of the field of gaming journalism. Trailblazing, charismatic, passionate, and endowed with a strong personality. You were the most iconic person in world of gaming journalism, you along with the rest of the Giantbomb crew. In the words of the New Yorker, you and the crew were "charmingly garrulous".
It's just so sad to hear this news. I apologize for the lack of coherence in this post, but I'm just displaying my stream of consciousness. A consciousness terribly perturbed and saddened by the loss of such a great man. To me, I feel like your loss is even greater than those of politicians and worldwide icons. Like how everyone else said, you truly felt like a lifelong friend. Someone very close in my life.
Life will go on, but it is incomprehensibly less rich and less exciting without Ryan Davis. I will NEVER forget you. Thank you. Seriously, thank you for blessing us all during the time were still together. Many more people in life will pass on as I grow older and older, but I know that even when I'm a grandpa in my 80's or 90's near the end of my life, I will still remember you and your legacy.
THANK YOU RYAN DAVIS.
Please retain that amazing personality of yours in the next life. People there deserve to be blessed just as we were.
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