Billy Joel once sang that "Only the good die young," and never was it so true as in the death of Wayman Tisdale, the bass guitarist with the smooth sound and infectious smile, who died at the age of 44. The Tulsa, Ok., native was not only a great musician, but an accomplished basketball star at Booker T. Washington in Tulsa, and later at the University of Oklahoma where he single-handedly put that school's basketball program on the national map.

For me, the news was simply devastating because this is someone from my "era" or the period that I attended high school. Just as important, Tisdale made it in a big way, and he tried to share that every time you saw him in public.

I last saw him perform as part of the Dave Koz Christmas Show at Oakland, Calif.'s famed Paramount Theater during the holiday season in 2007. Tisdale had just begun to make his way back on tour after treatment to rid his leg of a cancerous growth. He was not as animated as usual, but he still had the crowd in a great mood with his flawless bass playing and great showmanship.

I can recall, in the case of both of his distinguished careers, when and where I became familiar with Tisdale. The first was after purchasing the fall of 1981 edition of Street and Smith's basketball magazine and reviewing the top 100 players of the class of 1982's seniors-to-be. Each player had a photo and a breakdown of his strengths, weaknesses and statistics, and Tisdale of Booker T. Washington High School in Tulsa, Ok. was the No.-2-rated player in the country behind Camden, New Jersey's Billy Thompson (later of the '86 NCAA champion Louisville Cardinals). Tisdale was also the No. 2 pick in the NBA draft in 1985 behind Georgetown center Patrick Ewing.

My second familiarization with the Oklahoma star occurred in the summer of 1995 at a concert at the Joaquin Miller amphitheater in the Oakland hills. Mojazz, the jazz arm of Motown records, spearheaded a summer tour to introduce their new lineup of talented, young jazz artists. Along with Tisdale was guitarist Norman Brown, but Tisdale, with his size and dexterity on the bass, was a crowd-pleaser from the very start of his career. Since that day, I have not only been fortunate enough to see him play on five more occasions, but I also own half of his music catalog, and have tickets for a show he was slated to do with Norman Brown this coming May 24.

It goes without saying, for the real basketball fans, that Tisdale did not disappoint after choosing to stay close to home and attend Oklahoma, because all he did was win the then Big Eight Player of the Year award three years straight and set all kinds of records on the Norman campus.

The guy was the prototype, even at just 6-9, of how to play the low post, or center, position. He was absolutely perfect at catching a pass in the post and pivoting with the ball still up high and shooting or passing all in one motion so as not to allow smaller players to strip it from below his waist.

A close friend of mine stood the same height as Tisdale, and we used to watch Tisdale on the weekend network games or weeknight ESPN telecasts and I would say, "Do you see what he's doing? That's how you handle the entry pass into the post, keep the ball above your head."

Because my friend had that natural habit of catching the ball and bringing it below his waist as if he were a guard ready to break his defender down with the dribble, and for  those of us who were six to nine inches shorter than he, this made it easy to strip him clean of the basketball.

Tisdale was good enough to be an integral part of the 1984 Olympic team led by Michael Jordan (pre-NBA) and, even playing the low post as an under-sized power forward, he still managed to carve out 12 years in the league with the likes of Sacramento, Indiana, and Phoenix.

Even more amazing is his accomplished music career. From catchy album titles (he has eight albums total) like "Rebound" and "Power Forward," to tracks with even more memorable titles such as "Breakfast with Tiffany" (a take on the famous film starring Audrey Hepburn and also a tribute to his daughter Tiffany), Tisdale has captured the imagination of the smooth jazz/quiet storm, outdoor concert crowd (me included) in much the same way he amazed with his exploits on the hardwood.

True, this is about a phenomenal athlete who always said that music was his first love, and this is also about a man who could light up a room with his personality, but I believe on one occasion, trumpet star Chris Botti hit the nail on the head. As I sat on the lawn at the annual summer outdoor JVC jazz festival in Concord, Calif. four years ago in August, Botti finished his set that day and explained to the sun-baked crowd that the next performer, Wayman Tisdale, was a man fortunate enough, and so very deserving of the opportunity with his endless optimism and radiant personality, to live out two passions in the same life and do them both equally well.

Truer words could never be spoken. Rest in peace Wayman.