Back in June I arrived in Vancouver and headed over to the fighter workouts ahead of UFC 131 where Sam Stout was fighting Yves Edwards.
I saw Shawn Tompkins on the other side of the cage. He was sitting down and busy going back and forth between his smartphone and intensely studying his student.
I walked over to talk to him. He looked up and immediately smiled.
This was man who, no matter what he was doing, always made time for you.
We chatted for a bit. I got some quotes. We joked about some lighter things. And then I was off to get more photos and interviews. But before I could leave, he made sure to invite me to a dinner later in the week he was hosting in support of an anti-bullying campaign he was involved in.
And it wasn’t a token gesture — when I arrived a few nights later to see him having ditched the macho fight gear for a trim suit and pink tie, he went out of his way to greet me.
As busy as he was tending to the affairs of the night, he made sure I got in without a problem — no cover charge — since I was his guest.
This was typical of the encounters I had with him over the four-plus years I knew Shawn, who died suddenly Sunday.
I saw him on many, many occasions at various UFC and non-UFC events and he was always more than happy to talk to me (and anyone, for that matter, not to suggest I have any particular charm).
And he rarely wanted to talk about himself; instead, he would much rather gloat about his "kids."
He was one of the good guys — never badmouthing anyone. I first met him four years ago at a show in Montreal for the now-defunct TKO Championship Fighting, where three of his fighters were competing; including current UFC stars Sam Stout and Mark Hominick.
The third, Chris Clements, just had his medical paperwork rejected by Quebec’s athletic commission hours before the weigh-ins and he needed to get some last-minute tests redone.
It was frantic — and somewhat ridiculous — but he didn’t get upset about it (at least not visibly).
From the vault: Team Tompkins all about family and loyalty (November 20, 2007)
Underneath his muscled-toned physique was a softie.
He instilled the same sort of humility in his fighters. And when they returned the favour to heap praise on him for his instruction and direction as credit for their wins — as Stout and Hominick both did back in September 2007 — he would get choked up.
I didn’t know him that well — certainly not as well as my colleague (Showdown) Joe Ferraro — but I did know him well enough to consider him a friend in this business. And I know he treated me like one.
Yes, the 37-year-old native of Tillsonburg, Ont., was known as a fantastic Muay Thai, kickboxing and striking trainer, enough to be lured to Las Vegas to take over as head trainer for the flagship facility of the legendary Randy Couture.
But he was much more than that.
He was a true "personal" trainer, always making sacrifices for his students (he wasn’t known as "The Coach" for nothing).
He was a thoughtful host, who bought a big enough house when he moved to Las Vegas for fighters to be able to stay with him while they were in from out of town.
He was a young husband, married for just three-plus years to Stout’s sister Emilie.
He was a big brother, and the "cool" kind, with the bleached-blonde hair and tattoos, one who way back when took a very young and immature Sam under his wing to keep him out of trouble and instead steer him into organized MMA.
He was a classy gentleman, who in the same vein drove the anti-bullying campaign, because fighting is only meant for the cage, not the schoolyard or in the streets.
He was a close friend — just ask Stout and Hominick and pretty much anyone who got to know him.
And, ultimately, he left this earth way too soon.
While the news of Tompkins’ passing was breaking, two fighters were displaying their own sense of family and humility even as they had their hands raised at a UFC event in Milwaukee.
First Ben (Smooth) Henderson pretty much dominated in a three-round war against Jim Miller. After he was announced the winner, the former WEC champion had the perfect opportunity to stick it to Miller, who had at one time said the WEC fighters would be weeded out pretty quickly when that promotion joined the UFC.
But the devout Christian took the high road.
Not only did he not take a shot at Miller, but the man who may have rightfully earned himself a shot at the UFC’s lightweight title made no comments whatsoever to lift up his own stock. Instead, he got down on his knees and pleaded to UFC president Dana White for an opportunity for his teammates to make the organization.
Classy.
Next, it was Chris (Lights Out) Lytle, who after dispatching of Dan Hardy with a magnificent guillotine choke to earn two more UFC bonuses (Submission of the Night and Fight of the Night) to lift his career total to a record 10, confirmed that he was retiring just shy of age 37.
Lytle had every right to boast about what he’d accomplished in his career. But that’s not the kind of guy he is. Instead, he talked about what the sport had given him.
And then he said that he loved fighting “probably more than anything” in his life, except for one thing: his family.
The full-time firefighter wasn’t about to sacrifice any more of his time with those who mattered most to him.
Can’t blame a guy for that.