Being there for Ben

They always say that adversity brings people together and so it did last night in the Beaufort Arms, Stoke Gifford where friends and football team mates met to remember Ben Hiscox who tragically died following a freak injury.

A suggestion was made on social networks by one of Ben’s closest friends James Stephens that people could meet in the pub from 5.00 pm to remember Ben, or the misprint Dennis Cox as he was known to all and sundry. I arrived at the appointed hour and could barely get to the bar. Everyone who could physically be there was there on a Tuesday tea time when the pub would normally be as good as empty. I would estimate at least 100 people were in attendance, but there could have been many more.

I did not know until later in the evening that in fact Ben had been on life support until around 3.00pm and some of his friends and team mates were with him to the very end, their eyes red-scarred with the tears they shed. This was not an easy thing to do for those young lads because for many it will have been the first time they had been confronted with the end of life. The end of life is what happens to old people, not young men of 30 with the world at their feet. I saw some real hard men of the game welling up with emotion, shaking their heads with disbelief, fighting back the tears. There was no point in hiding it either. We were all of us devastated by such a shocking event that had taken the life of one of our own.

And do you know what? I mingled for many hours with old friends and new, sharing memories about Ben’s short life and, just occasionally, people would smile, even laugh, at some of the things Ben got up to. It was neither a wake nor a celebration of his life: more informal group counselling among those who had been left behind.

James Stephens also had another inspired idea. He went behind the bar and rang the ‘last orders’ bell and announced there would be a minute’s applause for Ben. Once it got started, you would have probably heard the applause on the other side of town. And I don’t think there was a dry eye in the house.

Today, at the Stoke Gifford ground, there are flowers by the side of the clubhouse, by the pitch he graced so much as a player and the clubhouse itself where he provided us with so many laughs.

As we know, Ben played for Bristol Manor Farm in the Toolstation Premier League before returning to Stoke Gifford. Only a couple of weeks ago, after he had scored a typically scuffed goal in a huge top of the table game against Easton and the Gifford came back from 2-0 down to win, I had a typically amusing conversation with him. As ever, he was his ebullient self. I asked him why he had taken the step down from the Toolstation to return to the Gifford. (I hasten to add that the Bristol and Suburban League Prem One is still a very high standard of football!) His answer was very simple: “I wanted to play with my mates.” I will always remember that for as long as I live. He didn’t think about the answer: that was exactly what he meant. This was where he wanted to be and where he wanted to play football.

Last night, all his mates wanted to be there with him. We all loved him, there was not, I swear, a bad word about Ben Hiscox: there never was and there never will be.

Above all, I was very proud to be a villager in Stoke Gifford. We did him proud last night and I thank each and every one of you who made it an occasion I will never forget.