Cricket's not life, it can't be life, says Phil Hughes' coach Neil D'Costa

Circa November 25, 2014. Neil D'Costa was driving his car when the phone rang.

Caller: Have you heard about Phil (Hughes)?

D'Costa: Has he scored another hundred?

Caller: No, he has been airlifted to the hospital.

D'Costa: What happened?

Caller: He was hit on the head.

D'Costa: Was he fielding?

Caller: No, he was batting. He was hit on the back of the head. It looked really, really bad.

D'Costa would receive two more calls in quick succession.

"That's when I realised this must be something serious. Then, I got to a place where I could see the TV and, unfortunately, I have to say that when I saw him fall, I had a very bad feeling. I have never seen anyone fall like that. I have seen people get knocked out. In this country, people get knocked out a lot in the rugby league and AFL. But that didn't look like that. I was suffocating. I waited for the updates. The next day, they announced it," D'Costa, 48, recalls, ironically, while driving us to the city from his cricket academy in Ingleburn, some 50 km southwest of Sydney.

A Level III coach of Indian origin, D'Costa took Hughes under his wings at the age of 16. But his most famous pupil happens to be a chap called Michael Clarke, who came to him when he was only seven. But after 25 years of togetherness, they parted ways a couple of years ago.

D'Costa has also worked with Mitchell Starc, Nick Compton and VVS Laxman among others. He also headed the Vidarbha Cricket Association academy in Nagpur for three years. Now, he coaches boys between the age of 12 and 16, and find it much more rewarding. His aim: to supply New South Wales and Australia with talented boys year after year. "Give me five years," he says.

'Ironic' is D'Costa's favourite word. No wonder he's written that in big, bold, capital letters above the door of his office at the Ghosts Cricket Academy. Why 'ironic'? "Every single person on this earth will die. We are all going to die and when such a tragedy happens, we don't know what to do? Why did this happen? Some might say that's destiny, but I can't believe that. I never heard Phil say anything bad about anyone. He was probably too young to hurt anyone. Even when he was getting dropped, he never uttered a bad word about them (selectors). I couldn't deal with it (Hughes getting dropped). Some other people couldn't deal with it. But Phil could deal with it. And the treatment he got after scoring so many hundreds was sad. I have never seen anyone else score more hundreds than him," D'Costa says.

A day after Hughes was hit by a bouncer at the Sydney Cricket Ground, D'Costa visited him at Sydney's St Vincent Hospital. "I just touched his hand and said 'I love you, man'. He was gone. I was thinking about his family more than anything else. I started thinking how they were going to deal with it. I have such a close relationship with his dad. I loved their relationship. I always want the same kind of relation with my son Taylor," D'Costa recalls with a heavy heart. Then, he sighs.

"You know the first person Taylor saw play cricket was Phil. The reason my son bats left-handed is Phil. All I can tell my four-year-old son is that Phil has gone to sleep. He would ask 'Papa, do all the cricketers go to sleep?' And I would say yes. And then he would say 'Is Phil Hughes sleeping with Jesus'. And I would say yes.

"It's been tough. Everyone has their own story about Phil. But I just keep going back to one thing: his family. I don't feel the loss of Phil for me. I feel the loss for his family. I don't know how his family operates every day. I know he is not there anymore. But I don't know how the people who are still here operate," he adds.

In faraway Macksville, the Hughes household is still coming to terms with their loss.

"I speak to Phil's sister (Megan) and brother (Jason) regularly. I talk to them about they are going. I know they are trying to find their ways, but it's still very, very early. Let's be honest. Human beings are not equipped for death. You asked me why I have written the word 'ironic' there. You go out to bat to score runs. You cannot live thinking that you will die one day. We are driving now. A truck can come and finish us off. Phil always batted to score runs. He never batted to survive. You have to live a life. There are always dangers. If you smoke too much, you can have cancer. If you drive too much, the chances of getting involved in an accident is always there. But still you have to live," he says.

D'Costa didn't make the five-hour trip from Sydney to Macksville for his mate's funeral. "It was a personal decision," he says. "I keep asking my boys if they have a dream. And I tell them that I can help them with that dream. But to see someone pass away to live that dream was difficult."

So was it a challenge to return to the academy and train the boys after Hughes's death?

"Yes it was. You know I am pretty high-intensity coach. If someone does something wrong, I would shout 'what the f*** are you doing?' But for a few weeks after Phil went, I was a little subdued. I didn't say anything to my boys for a while. I was not worried about their success or failure. I was just happy to see them come and train and enjoy the game and go home.

"I think Phil's incident has changed me a bit. I don't drag anyone across the line. If you want to come and train, come. If you don't want to come, that's fine. I have realised that cricket is just a sport. It's not life. It can't be life. And it certainly can't be a religion," he says.

After dropping you home, D'Costa calls back to check if all's well. And he says, "The folks at Cricket Australia keep talking about this big, united cricket fraternity and cricket family. Could someone please ask them to find out how Phil's family is doing?" It's a pity if no one's done that yet.