A Tradegy

When I was at Uni up north I used to play 5-a-side football for a staff team. We were generally older, slower and less fit the whipper-snapper undergrad teams, but we partially compensated by having a greater experience of the game and better organisation. The team was quite an interesting mix. We had the local MP in goal who was excellent at debating with referees about their dodgy decisions. I used to play midfield with a chef from Barbados, right behind our striker ‘Fletch’. He was a particularly interesting character – a scouser, an ex-monk, and now a religious studies lecturer. He apparently used to be the monk with the thought of the day on the 90’s breakfast TV show ‘The Big Breakfast’, but I can’t find anything on Google to back this up. We had an average season, but not knowing many people in a new town I really enjoyed playing and having some banter with the guys. Fletch organised a Christmas meal, and everyone, particularly Fletch made me feel part of the team and we laughed and joked our way through that evening and the next season. Eventually work dictated that I move away and I rarely, then never, saw the team.

I got sent a link to a Facebook group I could check the latest season’s results, and I heard that promotion was on the cards and that Fletch had got married and just had a little girl. Then last week I heard that Fletch had been to Australia on a conference, and had died from a heart attack.

Time and distance apart had softened this blow to me, but it’s always a horrible shock when you hear of someone’s death, especially someone who was so young and had just started a family.

'A Tradegy' just doesnt seem to do it justice.