Good times

It's tough to know what to say or whether I should say anything at all. There are other's far more qualified, able and suited to offering a tribute to Brian Good than me. Indeed, they have already. I won't try to match them. I'll just give it my best, then go.

I could have known Goody better than I did, but I didn't and now I never will. To me he was remarkable in his unremarkableness. A regular kiwi guy, into his sport, having fun with his mates and being there for his family. That's how I knew him, anyway. I was never close enough to know any more.

My reality of Goody was confirmed for me by the slides at his funeral service on Wednesday. A regular guy doing regular things in a regular life. And that made him unique, like all of us. Those shots had me choked up. I don't do emotion, but on Wednesday I came bloody close.

This is not my tragedy. But I have this selfish way of making everything, even if just in a small way, and only internally, about me. Goody was only a few months older than me and had a young family, like me. He was more physically active than I've been during the last little while, yet he's gone and I'm still here. For the first time, probably ever, I feel genuinely mortal.

Guess what - life IS too short. It makes you think, but you shouldn't think too much, you should act. It's what you do that matters and you'd better do something while you still have the time. I'm going to try. Cheers Brian. Your passing was the punch in the face I needed. But I so wish it didn't have to be this way.