Every week in summer, thousands of adults and kids mark out a spot on the crease and 'stand to', waiting for the bowlers delivery.
Every summer for decades this has happened. Brave bats, with and without protective gear.
That such an event as the death of Phillip Hughes this week had not happened before is remarkable. Because it could have happened anywhere and anytime in the last 100 or more years.
Its such an oblique accident of circumstance, happened upon not just a young man, but also a man of talent.
How desperately unfortunate.
A sad circumstance for family, friends and the cricket community globally.
The spectre of this type of catastrophic death will remain in cricket for a long time.
Unlike the young man himself... gone from activity in the field.
But not gone from the hearts and minds of the cricket (and broader sporting) diaspora.
Vale Phillip Hughes.