In fact, I had no game to cover, no feature to write. No athletic directors conference to dissect. When I arrived at the Dodo Mortuary chapel in Hilo, it was largely devoid of high school student-athletes.

Ironic, since Ken Yamase devoted his career to helping kids. Funerals just ain't a kid kind of thing. From near and far, his comrades gathered in that tranquil area north of downtown Hilo. Big trees. Tall trees. Harmless bugs floating around.

It was a place conducive to meeting old friends, where memories of Ken hung in the air lightly. I got into Hilo early, leaving Honolulu on a 5:20 a.m. flight, got something hearty to eat and tried to stay awake at a nearby Starbucks until the 11 a.m. service.

The week wasn't easy, between the usual workload and Mom's funeral. I wasn't sure I'd have enough left over to make a trip to Hilo. But things worked out and I thank God the trip happened.

Sitting there at the chapel, I half-expected Ken to drive in, get out of his car and start talking story with everybody there. He was just 58, still in the prime of his life, still active and robust. Still loaded with great ideas, always balanced with fairness and respect to everyone.

He's one of the administrators who never lost passion for athletics and kids after retiring from coaching. I could relate to him as well as any AD, from the time I started talking with him in 1990 as as pup sportswriter at West Hawaii Today, when he was still in charge of Waiakea athletics.

If I had one more chance to talk with him, I'd tell Ken that I always, always appreciated his candor and intelligence, his willingness to talk with me whether it was on or off the record, as a sports nut or simply as an interested fan. I'd tell him he was one of the best ever at what he did.

I'd tell him that I'd be glad to have the same passion and dedication he had when I'm nearing 60. A loving family, caring friends. He had it all. He also gave back tenfold. I only wish I can say the same one day. I'll miss you, Bruddah Ken.

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