Josh Hover

Thomas Joshua Hover, Loving husband, son, brother and uncle, passed away Sunday night July 17, 2016 at the age of 46, due to injuries suffered in a motorcycle accident. He was born on April 24, 1970 and was the only son of Cathleen Couchois and Robert Hover. Josh had an amazing and unshakable faith and love for God and that awesome love extended to his wife and family and his dogs. He was a talented general contractor with a beautiful mind and the ability to create something out of nothing in the blink of an eye. To watch him work was to witness genius. Josh is preceded in death by his sister Darrilyn Vasquez. He is survived by his wife Lindsey Hover, his mother CC Couchois, his father Robert Hover, his step-mother Lynn Hover and his step-father Pat Couchois. He is also survived by his sister, Dayna Gomez, his brother Malcolm Luff, his niece Alexah, his nephews Erick and Nicholas, and his beloved dogs Jack and Jolie. Josh was born and raised in Santa Monica, California. He loved the beach, the basketball court, and riding that damn bike at maximum speed! He loved life. He lived every single day to its fullest and had a zest for life that you would have had to witness to comprehend. And many did... They were the lucky ones... for every person that crossed Josh's path was somehow changed and affected by this man with a childlike passion for the world and all of its wonder. He did what he came to do. He danced. He played. He protected. And he loved. He ate ice cream every night and cuddled his dogs and worked his ass off. And he rode that bike... til the wheels fell off. Josh's spirit will live forever in those he loved and in the countless people he touched in ways both big and small, with his generous spirit and giving heart. His infectious smile, bigger than life personality, and contagious sense of humor will be greatly missed and forever cherished. God always takes the best ones first.? The family requests that, in lieu of flowers, a memorial donation be made in his memory to one of the following organizations: Children International www.children.org where Josh sponsored Nayelis, a child in the Dominican Republic, Oasis Church/LA www.oasisla.org, Josh’s home church where he was an active member and served on its security detail, or Kidsave www.kidsave.org, the child advocacy organization co-founded by Lindsey’s mother that works to create families and lifelong connections for older foster youth and orphans. Services will be held at Oasis Church in Los Angeles on Monday, July 25th, 2016 at 1:45 in the afternoon. Please share your personal stories or anecdotes about Josh at www.dignitymemorial.com/pierce-brothers-westwood-village-memorial-park This is Josh. My day yesterday was rattled when I found out that he passed in a tragic motorcycle accident. He was too young. Young in age and at heart. In some ways I hardly knew him, practically a stranger. But he was way more than that too. A not so quick meditation…. Some of you know that I’ve spent much of my academic life learning how to think and write sociologically about park basketball. Josh played at my favorite court in the world. Its a court where doctors and lawyers play with homeless men. Where international celebrities play with high school students. Where dudes who can reverse dunk play with dudes who can hardly jump at all. Josh was part of that. He was one of the greatest pickup basketball players I’ve ever known. Not because he had a great shot, great handle, or great athleticism. He didn’t really have any of that. He’d often fumble the ball out of bounds, chip layups, and make dumb passes. But when he screamed “Fuck!” after making a mistake, everybody knew he meant it. And when Josh was guarding you, you knew it. I’d been playing well at the park and Josh decided he’d take it upon himself to stop me. Over the course of a couple weeks he’d make a point to match up with me. Before games and between plays he’d tell me, “I’m your kryptonite Mike, I’m your fucking kryptonite. You aint getting shit today.” Once he gave me a vicious shove and my teammate called him out, told him to relax. “Don’t worry,” Josh told him, “Mike and I got a thing. He knows what time it is.” I did. Whatever else was going on in my life, for those few minutes I didn’t focus on anything but outplaying him. Josh was strong as fuck and he pushed me to go harder than I wanted to. He slammed into me on the block, chased me off screens, and sprinted out on fast breaks. Losses were a little more bitter and wins a little more glorious when he guarded me. He was almost 20 years older than me and I could hardly walk after those games. Josh once scored every point for his team during a game. I’d never seen anything like it. He ran out on fast breaks and got easy layups. He spotted up from the corner and hit from deep. He back cut and finished layups with defenders hanging all over him. If his teammates knew how to use him, Josh was dangerous. And Josh had plenty of family at the court who knew how to use him. You could never underestimate him. He was often the first one at the park. Sometimes I wondered if he’d smoked a half pack of cigs in his beach chair before most of us had even left the house. He’d play a silly game of HORSE before the games started. And then he’d play you one-on-one when all the games were over. He’d square up with young punks who challenged him. And he’d jump in the fray when his people did the same. He celebrated game winners like he just won the NBA championship. He’d kick the ball across the parking lot when his foul calls weren’t honored. (And then come the next day and apologize.) Sometimes he’d show up at the park on his motorcycle and ride it right across the court while we dodged out of the way. Looking serious for a second, he’d then break into a smile as he walked down the sideline and gave daps to every other player at the park. If he wasn’t always the most talented player, he was always one of the realest. And in park basketball, that makes him one of the best. In a lot of ways I didn’t know him that well. Don’t know if he had siblings, just recently heard he got married, never saw him at work, didn’t even know his last name. But I’m grateful that our lives crossed paths and that we spent a few nights drinking Fireball whiskey, talking about friendship and religion and music and basketball. Playing ball with him at the park was part of growing up for me, and I’ll never forget him for that. Our world today is so divided, thinking about Josh reminds me that all of our fates - even “strangers” - are intertwined. He was just a guy I hooped with, and that’s more than it sounds. Much love and condolences to his family who knew more sides of him than I ever will. RIP.