If anything were to sum up the current state of our village, it was the sight and sound of ambulances arriving once again at the field. Next to the clubhouse, still beautifully adorned with floral and photographic tributes, is a small hut where the cricket club keeps its equipment. A group of us were there en masse to get the ground ready for the summer.
The villager known as Taff managed to slip, emergency services were summoned. 18 minutes later, two paramedic cars arrived, and throughout that time the call centre staff member stayed on the line to me, giving advice and guidance, ensuring that everything was well. Some time later, a ‘proper’ ambulance arrived and carted Taff off to hospital to tend to his dislocated elbow (which popped back in when he was lifted!) and an associated fracture. Ouch!
Now please tell me how this can happen to such a nice bloke? Anyone who knows Taff – and everyone in our village does – sees that he is a do-er. Whilst others talk about doing things, Taff just gets out there and does them. He organises, volunteers, cajoles, encourages, gets things done. And he is funny. First and foremost comes his family, closely, very closely, followed by his friends and his fellow villagers for whom nothing is too much trouble.
And in doing more good for the village, he has suffered an extremely painful injury. No, there really is no fairness in life, no reward for doing the right thing; just the admiration and respect of everyone around you.
Just for a change, I visited the pub after a long evening of doing absolutely nothing to help the club, save calling the paramedics and standing on an increasingly cool North Road waiting for the ambulance to arrive. There I met, and I’m afraid shared a few ciders with, the usual suspects who you would always expect to be there on a Friday night.
“That bloody ground is jinxed,” said one of the lads.
I can see why he said that, but it isn’t. Taff’s injury, following on from Ben Hiscox’s tragic accident, was just bad luck, a complete coincidence, but as the medical staff arrived, you would be forgiven for thinking otherwise.
Happily, Taff will be all right and soon he will be back in the bosom of the village, enduring much mickey-taking and banter, as befits Stoke Gifford. Would he want it any other way? Well, he will have no choice in the matter!
You couldn’t help but thinking of other matters last night – how could you avoid it? – but we need to maintain perspective. There is no light at the end of the tunnel in our community just yet because the news doesn’t get any better. Hopefully, that will change with Ben’s funeral next Wednesday, where we can reflect on what we had, what we have and begin the process of celebrating his life through our shared community and collective strength.
