Tragedy’s awful irony

The agonising irony in Dan Vickerman’s death is that he, more than most of his peers across any professional sport, nailed the transition from elite athlete to regular human.

Mostly because he had to. Vickerman was as intense a man as you might come across. He also lived with the spectre of injury for much of his playing career, and that made him think hard about life after rugby.

He never completely gave the sport away, and he was able to mount a comeback for Australia at the 2011 World Cup. But the stress fractures that blighted his later playing years did not relent and a season with the Waratahs in 2012 saw his contribution restricted to that of off-field leader and mentor.

Vickerman, who had a wife, Sarah, and two young boys to support, spent the next four years carving out a career in the property and development industry, all the while maintaining his close links to the rugby world and helping others think about their futures.

Last year he became chair of a joint-Australian Rugby Union and Rugby Union Players’ Association committee dedicated to player development. From the outside, looking in, a recent move to a new role with funds manager Newgate Capital Partners capped the ofttalked about ‘‘transition’’. He had navigated those dark and choppy waters and appeared to be sailing along in perfect conditions.