And so it is with the dreadful news that one of the greatest cricketers of modern times, Shane Warne, died suddenly late on Friday of a suspected heart attack, while on holiday in Thailand.
Followers of cricket and the gentle, hypnotic art of leg-spin bowling will be bereft at the loss of such a stellar sportsman and superstar at the age of just 52. For "Warney" or "Warnie", well-known for sending down bamboozling, fizzing spinners with preposterous precision, this was the most baffling delivery of all.
Life turns on a dime, so they say. In the cricketing world, if anyone could, almost without fail, land a spinning cricket ball on a coin and literally turn it on a dime it was Warne.
His staggering natural talent, his flopping blonde hair and blindingly white teeth, and his ebullient personality with more than a touch of the great Australian larrikin about it, were what endeared him to many millions around the world.
But there was another ingredient to Shane Warne which resonated with us all. He was human, and he was imperfect. As with every genius, he was flawed.
During his 15-year career playing test cricket for Australia, there were plenty of headlines for the lad with the twinkle in his eyes from Upper Ferntree Gully near Melbourne. He took banned diuretic pills, flirted with Indian bookmakers and had ill-advised dalliances with women, all of which made their way on to the front pages.
He was a smoker, enjoyed a drink, and didn’t always eat the healthiest food. He was probably at high risk of a heart attack.
However, away from the soap opera and on the turf, Warne became the first cricketer to claim 700 test wickets, eventually finishing with 708.
There are so many, too many, highlights to mention. But on his home ground, the MCG, he took a memorable Boxing Day test hat-trick against England in 1994. However, he never quite made a test century, reaching 99 against New Zealand in Perth in 2001 before being caught on the boundary off a Daniel Vettori delivery.
Of course, who can forget the bewilderment of England player Mike Gatting when he was bowled by "that ball". Later called the "ball of the century", Warne’s first-ever delivery against England in 1993 drifted wide to Gatting’s right then spat back to hit the top of his off-stump. Even umpire "Dickie" Bird said later he couldn’t believe it.
And all the time there were thousands of flippers and googlies (wrong ’uns) and zooters, sliders, top-spinners and back-spinners mixed among his devastating leg-spin deliveries. One has to wonder how many of these were real and how many part of psychological warfare against the opposition.
Warne may have been an Aussie, but his magical touch transcended national boundaries. Few people have put back into the game as much as he did after retirement.
Before he came along, spin bowling, especially the more difficult art of leg-spin bowling, had been waning in the face of sheer pace. Thanks to Warne’s encouragement and example, leg-spinners, and all spinners, are once again an essential part of the game.
By all accounts he was a great mate to many, approachable, happy to sign autographs, spend time with children and fans, and talk cricket with anyone. He was generous at sharing his cricketing knowledge and was a popular commentator. He even appeared on Australian comedy show Kath & Kim as a Shane Warne impersonator who married the hapless Sharon.
Few could doubt that Warne was a great artist. Great artists bring joy to others through what they achieve, but they also give joy by showing people how they achieve their art. In other words, they are unafraid to show their greatness, and are unafraid of failure or criticism.
Warne brought so much joy, more than most of us could in a thousand lifetimes.
The world already seems a little duller without him. But thank God we had him.
