Phillip Joel Hughes.
What can anyone say at a time like this? I sit here inconsolable, I can't imagine what his family and Sean Abbott are going through.
The Prince was a man too talented for this world. But if you ever spoke to him, or even heard him speak, you would have little idea that he possessed such immeasurable abilities. That was the true mark of the man, his humbleness. He was the salt of the Earth.
I only shared the field with him a couple of times, but he had that presence that only the true talents have. I'd sit there transfixed as he wielded his bat like a magic wand. His energy was infectious, he'd be the sort of bloke I would have loved to shared a dressing room with.
His loss is nothing short of a sporting tragedy. The fact he was so young. So talented. So driven and so humble. I suppose we can take solace in the fact that he crammed a hell of a lot in those 25 years. 26 first class centuries.
I'm hurting today just like his friends and family would be.
I'll sum up by quoting a small piece of Peter Lalor's wonderful article published in
The Australian a day or so ago:
Four weeks ago we chatted in the UAE after the first Test. Alex Doolan looked an unlikely selection for the next match and I suggested to Hughes he was a fair chance to replace him. He wouldn't have a bar of it. It annoyed him that anyone would question Doolan's place in the side. He didn't want to get into the team if it was on those terms. "I've been treated like that too many times myself to want to see anybody else get dropped in these circumstances," he said. And "Dools is my mate" he added.
Only the good die young.
RIP The Prince. We'll always love you. Thanks for the joy you have given us.