Sports broadcaster Bob Valvano tells a heart-wrenching story about his late brother’s good friend and colleague, John Saunders.

As Jim Valvano lay there, close to the end amid a 10-month battle with bone cancer, the legendary college basketball coach reached up from his bed.

“Is that you, John?” asked Jim, his vision beginning to fail him just prior to dying 23 years ago.

Only it wasn’t Saunders. It was another black man who’d entered the room.

That’s how close, caring and comforting Saunders was with Jim until the very end — and how caring he was to those who knew him.

Less than two years since ESPN’s Stuart Scott lost his battle with cancer, Saunders’ family confirmed the Ajax native died unexpectedly on Wednesday in New York after feeling unwell. The long-time ESPN sportscaster and former play-by-play voice of the Toronto Raptors was 61.

“Since Stuart passed there has been a weight (at ESPN),” said Max Bretos, one of Saunders’ ESPN colleagues. “There’s an emptiness due to the loss of some of the comforting figures that were here.”

But Saunders was so much more than a comforting figure. For those who knew him, he was larger than life.

ESPN anchor Hannah Storm struggled to break the news from her Olympic desk Wednesday morning in Rio de Janeiro.

Fighting back tears, Storm seemed just as shocked as the audience she was informing.

Saunders had been a staple of North American sports broadcasting for four decades — including being the voice of the Raptors during the late 1990s following a brief stint with City-TV.

Before that, he played hockey at Western Michigan University before transferring to Toronto’s Ryerson University.

“John was an extraordinary talent and his friendly, informative style has been a warm welcome to sports fans for decades,” said John Skipper, the president of ESPN.

What made Saunders one of the best wasn’t his accomplishments or accolades or appearances. It was how he carried himself both on and off set — his ability to fill a room and role regardless of the situation, the setting, the topic.

“We met and exchanged numbers and would text,” Bretos told the Toronto Sun. “He would watch stuff I would do. He’d say, ‘You got it. You’re doing great.’ Sometimes I’d put my head down without that encouragement.

“Every now and then I’d have a show and I’d get a text from saying, ‘Hey, man, that was really good.’ He’d be specific on what we did. It was so uplifting, especially coming from him. He was great as a mentor, great as a storyteller.”

Beyond Saunders’ incredible career covering everything from NCAA football and basketball to the NFL, those close to him highlighted his devotion as a family man, a tireless champion of The V Foundation and a proud Canadian.

Those inside ESPN became accustomed to seeing Saunders don an old fashioned Canadian sweater whenever national pride was on the line. Everyone was made aware of his loyalties during the 2010 Vancouver Olympics.

“We were rallying the American support (during the gold medal hockey game),” Bretos recalled. “John was there staunch with this obnoxious Canadian sweater and Canadian flags were flying. You’d get into the games even more.”

Saunders was the master of engagement. His familiar voice was soft yet authoritative. He made his name before pundits needed to be obnoxious and combative to garner attention and ratings. The respect he earned resulted from how he carried himself.

“One time they were reconfiguring who would do what in college football,” Bretos said. “They said, ‘Hey, John, you’re going to do this.’ He would tell his superiors, ’no.’

“I asked him: ‘Did you end up doing what you wanted to?’ And he said: ‘Yes, I did.’ He was no-nonsense on compromising … It was straight-shooting. It was real.”

As Bretos added, nobody can say a bad thing about him. He was bigger than the broadcast booth.

As ESPN’s Chris Berman said, he was him.

“You were immediately comfortable with John in 30 seconds,” Berman told ESPN.com. “I was fortunate enough to be comfortable with him for 30 years. We knew him for his understated demeanour and understated smile.

“But we also knew him for his firm commitment to getting things right and treating people right. John was old school, even Old World. Maybe because he was Canadian. Maybe because he was John.”

Of course, like Scott and Valvano and the other greats who’ve gone before him, Saunders will live on in the minds of those he spoke to.

He has undoubtedly carved out a place in the hearts of those lucky enough to be even closer to him.

Perhaps Jimmy V’s outstretched hand was the first thing to greet him.