I’ve just walked to the local shops to buy something for the family dinner tonight.  I walked past two boys on their driveway, with a plastic set of cricket stumps, a bat and ball.  As one of them lined up to bowl the ball to the other, the one at the batsman’s end called out “Just don’t hit me in the head”.  A half-hearted laugh rose first and then the tears rose to my eyes.  I am overwhelmingly moved to tears every time Phillip Hughes’ name is mentioned.

Which makes me wonder why?  Why am I so affected?  It’s not like I knew Phillip, and it’s not even as if I was a huge fan of his cricket career, or even would have been able to tell you much about him before Tuesday.

I think it’s the fact that, as Australians, we feel so connected to our cricket heroes.  This is such a freak accident, and yet so relatable.  There wouldn’t be many of us who grew up in Oz who hasn’t at some point rolled the arm over at the Christmas beach cricket, painted a set of stumps on the wheelie bin, or spent Boxing Day in front of the TV recovering from the effects of the day before watching the Boxing Day test match.

And then there are those of us who are cricket fanatics, either avidly playing or watching.  I still remember my son scoring 50 in the winning grand final game a few years ago.  And he follows the cricket avidly – the annual subscription to the cricket magazine a favourite Christmas present every year.  When the news broke this afternoon, he and I just sat on the couch stunned, watching as the story unfolded.

The cricketing community are heroes for many of us.  They really do seem to be a tight knit community.  The effects of the Australian public watching as Glenn McGrath and his wife coped with her breast cancer has resulted in a massive fundraising organisation which is close to many hearts and does so much good for those affected by cancer.

We can all see how the current cricket community has rallied around the family.  Michael Clarke was only just holding it together as he read out the family’s statement.  Reports say that he arrived at the hospital only 20 minutes after the ambulance, and has hardly left the bedside since.

And then there is the tragic loss of a life destined for greatness.  One of the stories I saw this afternoon mentioned that Hughes had the ability to be the next Bradman.  Now I don’t know if that is true, but to lose any life at only 25 – someone who is in the prime of their life and with so much potential – is beyond comprehension.

And my heart goes out to Sean Abbott– the bowler of the fatal ball.  I can’t imagine how he is coping.  I can’t imagine how he could pick up a ball and bowl a bouncer again.  I even wonder whether anyone at the local cricket grounds across Australia this weekend will be able to bring themselves to bowl a bouncer.

It will take a while for the cricket community to recover from this one.  The upcoming test series starting next week is destined to be a sombre affair.  As are all the local games played at the local ovals this weekend.

My heart goes out to his family, friends, team mates and to cricketers everywhere.

R.I.P. Phillip Hughes