It was one of those chaotic bedtimes. As Howard English kissed his wife, Stephanie, goodbye and set out for his evening rugby training session, he teased her about escaping from the domestic mayhem, leaving her to cope with three boisterous young children. They parted laughing.
Not long after, she received a call from his trainer. Howard had collapsed on the pitch and been taken to hospital. She should get there fast. He was always breaking his collar bone, but this sounded more serious. When she arrived, Howard was still connected to the resuscitation equipment, but its use had been futile from the start. He had died instantaneously on the field
