Very sad case here about a rugby player who was paralysed and wanted to die, his parents helped him. Terrific article by that cunt Brian Moore.
[COMMENT][/COMMENT]It took courage for the parents of Daniel James to say goodbye
The best consequence of success in sport is the opportunity to enrich the life of someone else.
By Brian Moore
Last Updated: 10:08PM BST 24 Oct 2008
This is a feeling nobody, however rich, can buy. As a former international hooker, I know that it also brings other things equally moving, of greater import and sometimes inspirational, but never a pleasure.
I vividly recall my first visit to a rugby player who was in one of the countrys acute centres having suffered serious spinal injury. As I write I can feel the tears welling and as then, I cannot stop them.
I was not prepared for the experience, not understanding what might be my reaction. More importantly, what it needed to be to help the unfortunate boy who, either side of a collapsed scrum, had looked forward to his degree course at university, but now contemplated a lifetime of manual evacuation of his bowels, assisted feeding and knowing he would never be independent.
Though rugby is not the most dangerous of sports, there are serious injuries, and those pertaining to the front row, particularly to hookers, resonate keenly. The uniquely vulnerable world of the hooker within the scrum is one in which I dwelt for years without serious injury.
However, I also remember the times I got the engagement, the 'hit, wrong, suffering a 'stinger, a neurological shock like a lightning bolt down my spine: when I was driven upwards, my neck being slowly bent, close to hyperextension, before I managed to pop my head out of the scrum: when the front rows collapsed and all I could do was turn my head a little to minimise the chance of my neck taking all the weight of the collapse and fracturing.
Daniel James, son of Julie and Mark, represented England at under-16, university and student level at hooker. In playing for the last two teams he was following the same path which years earlier had led me to that which also cannot be bought; the honour of representing my country at full international level.
I know how Daniel felt pulling on the No 2 jersey; the mixture of fierce determination and pride, edged with fear and the pressure of carrying not only his dreams, but those of his friends and especially his parents. I know Julie and Mark were so very proud.
I am sure that in a quiet moment before he played, he thought of his mother and father. How much he owed them for driving him to training, coping with his mood swings according to how he had played and just how much he loved them. I hope he told them at the time, because too few of us do.
Unfortunately, I know exactly how, in March last year, Daniel dislocated his spine when a scrum collapsed during a training session at Nuneaton RFC.
Colleague Mick Cleary, in his earlier column, chose precisely the phrase which is more apposite to me than most, given the similarities with Daniel.
There but for…
I cannot dwell on that collapse as it reminds me too much of my mortality and that someone else was chosen by fate to suffer. I cannot know the workings of Daniels mind as he struggled with his catastrophic injury and, if I am honest, I do not want to because in those thoughts lies madness.
I can make an educated guess at how his mum and dad felt when they were told of his accident and with what they battled thereafter. If the following sounds patronising, so be it; only a parent can come remotely near understanding what it must have been like for Julie and Mark.
If you have not had a child, your perception of this is intellectual. That is what makes parenthood special, it is emotional. You may hypothesise that Julie and Mark would gladly have swapped places with their son; but you cannot feel that or the guilt they probably feel for encouraging him to play the game that, at times, they will feel killed their son.
All this is secondary to the astonishing courage they showed in accompanying Daniel to the Dignitas clinic in Berne, where Daniel was assisted to take a life which to him had become unbearable, particularly given the contradiction of rude health and near total incapacity.
I do not know how they faced the conflicting emotions of saying goodbye to the little boy they saw score his first try and the desperate wish to keep him with them. If they get counselling, which they must, they may have to face admitting something I felt while watching my father struggle through the last hours of his life, gasping for breath that when I cried please dont struggle anymore, part of this was because I selfishly wanted him to spare me any more pain.
My father was elderly, but still the walk from his deathbed was a searing experience. No parent should have to bury a child and I do not have the ability to suppose what that walk felt like for Julie and Mark.
It is still an offence under the Suicide Act 1961 to aid, counsel or procure the suicide of another; the penalty is up to 14 years imprisonment. Julie and Mark now face the ordeal of investigation by the West Mercia police following notification of their act of love by a 'concerned individual.
Of that person I say concerned is the last thing you were, other than in an intellectual exercise of morality, a concept incapable of standard definition by two people, never mind entire organised groups however concerned they, in their delusion, may be.
Among the many letters Julie and Mark will get, there will be a handful which will say they will be punished on the final day. Yes, some people are that pitiful. To such authors I put this if you reserve judgment for God, why usurp this by presupposing the conclusion?
If there is a God I believe He will understand what was done and why.
Headlines have stated that Julie and Mark have defended their actions. Mr and Mrs James, you have to do no such thing. If there is a final reckoning, it is between you and your God no one else.[COMMENT][/COMMENT]