This is the most bizarre unfolding of events it borders on being a modern day Shakespearean tragedy.
I got an invite to join some Twitter folks for the day (a bunch I haven't met), and strongly considered going. I thought "Aussie players, quiet SCG, sounds like a nice day to watch some quality cricketers do their thing. When else do you get to see the likes of Warner, Watson, Haddin, etc, without paying top dollar?". But on the morning decided to be at home instead.
Still, some of the Twitter boys went ... all was forgotten until just after lunch when the first of the tweets began "Phil Hughes hit. Down injured. Medicab on the pitch". Instantly you think "Oh sh*t !"
Then they began getting more and more urgent ... "Warner sprinted off the field" .... "Ambulance has arrived" .... "Play has stopped completely. A lot of concern". Someone would send a pic to bring us closer to the action live on scene. There I am on the lounge wondering "Crikey".
But it never stopped : Media began tweeting. SCG/NSW officials sheepishly addresses the unfolding drama, and the level of concern raised the notch again with the announcement "umpires have directed photographers and camera crew to stop". The tone from the Twitter boys increasingly grew dim.
"A 2nd ambulance has arrived, and a sheet has been erected around Phil Hughes as they treat him" .... "A helicopter has arrived" ... "We don't know the state of his condition". I started to panic !
"Is Phil Hughes alive ?!?!? Someone ? Anyone ???" - THAT alone got over a dozen Re-tweets.
We all know how the rest unfolded. Play was abandoned. Phil was whisked to St.Vincents in what was being reported as "Critical condition" and so began the media doing it's thing. Slowly over the next few hours, people finished work, or got home to the news.
The Twitter boys returned home in a fog of disbelief having watched it unfold live and it was apparent they weren't about to sleep anytime soon. I can tell you one thing, the message of "RUOK" is alive and well and Twitter became a surrogate counselling tool with everybody checking in on each other.
Tuesday became Wednesday, and as the media went into high rotation on the why's and how's, I had every reason to hope Phil would recover. I (like a lot of people) suspected he had a skull fracture. St.Vincents is a world class facility highly adept at treating brain trauma. They deal with dozens of vehicular accidents and coward punch type scenarios a year. They know the score when it comes to brain swelling. Get a scan, Check the level of bleeding. Surgery to relieve pressure. ICU and induced coma were all "normal practice", and I honestly thought we'd know more after a week once he woke up.
But then came Thursday ... and wake up Phil did not.
To say it knocked me on my @rse is an understatement.
When the saddest of possible news arrived I was watching TV, with the Twitter boys primed in the background (we're still checking on each other and waiting for news). When it ended I had to arrange fish'n'chips for dinner and I noticed a sh*tload of cars with 'lights on' in the daylight as a sort of mark of silent respect by everyone 'on the road' affected by the news. I don't know if you noticed, but there were 'heaps' !
I got tho the shops, and pulled up next to another 40-something man in the car park. He was listening to the radio, as was I (perhaps the same station). We made eye contact and I could tell he'd been crying. We gave a silent nod to each other through our windows. He shook his head 'can you believe this ?', and I nodded back 'I know mate, I know ...'. I got out of the car and every 2nd guy had an ashen face of disbelief.
Like plenty of us, I like me cricket ... I've watched thousands of hours worth. Played countless backyard games. Dozens of school games. Hundreds of indoor games and (ironically) a handful of outdoor games. I've been hit in the noggin over 10 times, maybe 20. Copped bouncers, black eyes, bleeding noses and even copped a bat to the head being a wicket keeper. There's an element of 'this could have been me or anyone I know' that has affected many of us.
Then there's the unimaginable tragedy of it all ... A 25yo young man, 3-days shy of his 26th. From an entirely 'everyday Australian family' of farmers, applying his trade on the highest of stages in an effort to earn re-selection into the team he idolised growing up. And if he's 63 not-out is any indication he was mere hours away from getting there.
If you're not already aware, he didn't fracture his skull. He suffered something called "vertebral artery dissection". In short, the bouncer hit him in the exact spot it needed to in order to sever his artery from supplying blood to his brain. According to Dr Brukner at the original press-conference on Thursday, it's been described as "an exceedingly rare injury", with close approximately 100 cases in medical literature, and only ONE prior incidence worldwide as a result of a cricket ball.
Like I said, it's the stuff of a Shakespeare script.
I know emotions are still raw, and we still have to collectively pick ourselves up and continue. It was only an hour ago Clarkey gave his press-conference, and we still have services to attend before the test matches eventually resume. But y'know what ? .... In times of tragedy, there can be great beauty. And I don't think I can recall a time when something so tragic has turned into something so beautiful.
- The response from those on scene giving 1st aid, and the lengths medical staff went to, to ensure he had a fighting chance.
- The response of media on scene after being given a directive by umpires to 'stop' (they dropped camears on the grass and walked away)
- The outpouring of affection from cricketers around the world prior to his death.
- And the outpouring of affection from everybody around the world after he succumbed to his injury.
- The stoic and tactful efforts from the gentlemen who spoke at the press-conference when his death was announced.
Kudos to everyone.
When you're done reading this ... click on THIS ->
https://twitter.com/search?f=realtime&q=#putyourbatsout&src=typd
Without doubt, the most remarkable digital tribute I have ever had the bittersweet pleasure of witnessing. I've rarely been prouder being an Australian, and I've never been prouder to call myself a cricketer.
It's gonna be a long few weeks.
We'll cry, we'll hug, and probably cry some more.
Hug your loved ones.
Then do it again for good measure.
Life can be cut far too short.