Like the rest of the sporting public, I am in mourning over the loss of an individual who shaped the way I view sports, in general. I won't attempt to describe what made his impact on my life any more special than anybody elses. Over the last 24 hours, we've read accounts of Bill King that described him as "having no peers", the "soul of the A's" and as a "Rennaisance man, who was born in the wrong century..."

   There is no way to completely describe an individual who shaped the way you viewed every major american sport you watched growing up. In Basketball, he and Chick Hearn. In Football, nobody but maybe Lon Simmons from these parts were as effective. In baseball, enough has been said.

   The only way we will get a handle on Bill King's life is what Ratto suggested this morning. He needs a biography, and it would be long, but probably one of the most intriguiging and interesting reads anyone could ever get their hands on. Maybe our buddy Michael Urban would take on that challenge. Truly, it would be a challenge but I would guess it would be a labor of love more than anything else.

   There are no words that can do justice to the man who's command of the English language inspired me. My two cents worth would be to propose that if and when the A's get a new stadium, a statue of Bill King seated in his shorts and sandals, on a briefcase, with a box of popcorn mixed with relish, onions, mustard and ketsup gazing outward toward the field will be there for all of us to admire and remember.