Tom Dillon loved to do three things: Eat, tell jokes and call football games.
He did all three of them exceedingly well.
Dillon, the longtime voice of Arizona State sports - Sun Devil fans never will forget his "He scores! He scores! He scores!" call of Jake Plummer's fourth-quarter touchdown run in the 1997 Rose Bowl - died Monday of an apparent heart attack. He was 65. Funeral services are pending.
"It's just a sad day," said John Mistler, Dillon's partner on Cardinals broadcasts for seven years. "He was a special man. I cherished him."
Some broadcasters become synonymous with the teams they cover. Vin Scully and the Los Angeles Dodgers. Ernie Harwell and the Detroit Tigers.
Dillon was ASU sports.
He called Sun Devil football, basketball and baseball games from 1973 to 1997. Every great athlete that passed through ASU during those years - from Barry Bonds to Fat Lever to Plummer - had his exploits chronicled by Dillon's baritone voice.
Dillon, who also did Cardinal broadcasts for 12 years and was named Arizona Sportscaster of the Year 17 times, could walk through a shopping mall unnoticed. But once he opened his mouth, everyone knew him.
Thus the personalized license plate on his beloved Ford Mustang: Voice.
"He was an institution. I think some people listened to the games as much for him as the Sun Devils," associate athletic director Mark Brand said.
We could spend the rest of this column talking about Dillon the broadcaster.
How he was a perfectionist who never went into a game unprepared.
How he could do ASU games one night, fly across the country on little sleep and do Cardinals games the next day without missing a beat.
How he never let his ego get in the way of the broadcast. He was silent when he needed to be and always willing to give his color analysts their time.
"He wanted every broadcast to be his best," said Diamondbacks broadcaster Greg Schulte, who worked alongside Dillon on ASU's games for 14 years. "He was good on all the sports, but he was absolutely outstanding in football. If you were sitting in your car listening to a ballgame, Tom put you right there. He had radio down."
But there was far more to Dillon than the three hours he spent in the broadcast booth.
Take the jokes - please. Dillon had a million of them. Some were hilarious. Some were off-color. Some were stupid. Didn't matter. Rare was the conversation that didn't start with Dillon cracking a smile and saying, "Hey, meat (he called everyone meat), listen to this one."
"He couldn't wait to tell you," Schulte said.
Traveling with Dillon was a culinary treat. The man knew every great place to eat, from Book Binders in Philadelphia to the Electric Station in Eugene, Ore. Schulte recalled one trip in which they nearly missed their flight home because Dillon insisted on making a side trip to Fentons, an ice cream parlor in the Bay Area.
Dillon didn't just eat. He savored a meal. He'd finish off a 44-ounce steak, throw his fork onto the empty plate and with great satisfaction, say simply, "Did it."
"He was the life of the party," Schulte said.
But there was a softer side to Dillon, too. When Schulte was diagnosed with cancer in 1992 and lost most of his hair, Dillon shaved his head in support.
Since 2005, Dillon - who is survived by his wife, Bonnie, and two daughters - had been broadcasting college games for Sports USA Radio.
"In a business full of egos, he had none," Sports USA Radio president Larry Kahn said. "With so many guys in this business there's always something to deal with. An extra request, talking about themselves. Tom was 180 degrees the other way."
Sadly, Dillon was scheduled to do the play-by-play of Saturday's ASU-Arizona game. Instead, there likely will be a moment of silence honoring his memory.
Meat, you'll be missed.
And that's no joke.