So last week I woke up to hear the tragic news that Nigel Doughty was dead.
He was 54.
Nigel Doughty was an incredibly successful and talented business man … making millions with his investment company, Doughty Hanson, and then – showing he wasn’t always so smart – blowing almost 100 million pounds on Nottingham Forest.
Yes, 100 million pounds.
All that investment and where are we? Yep … 2nd from bottom in the Championship with relegation all but guaranteed.
That aside, his death really affected me.
Not because – like some Forest fans – I was concerned how his death might leave our rubbish football club – but because it re-inforced that you can’t escape death.
Without being morbid, I think about this a lot.
I have found myself – like my father before me – reading obituaries, however unlike him, I pretty much only focus on how old they were when they died.
I think about whether they knew they were going to die?
What they did that day?
How they died?
Were they alone?
Were all their affairs in order?
Nigel Doherty was – on face value – a fit and healthy man.
He was rich, happily married and incredibly successful.
Yet at age 54, it appears he suffered from a heart attack while exercising at his home gym.
What a tragedy.
I don’t know what I’m writing this for or what I really want to say other than you never know when it’s all going to end so to put off what you really want to do seems a terribly foolish – and risky – move.
I’ve met so many people who say stuff like …
“one day I’ll _______________” or “I’d love to be a __________________”
… but it doesn’t happen if you don’t make it happen.
Maybe they’re people that I heard Sir Ken Robinson once describe as ‘idea lovers’ …
They are in love with the THOUGHT of doing something, rather than doing it.
You know, the people who say they’d “love to play the guitar” but have never picked one up.
The people who say “they’d love to change careers” but don’t want to take a pay cut.
The people who say “they want a promotion” but don’t want added responsibility.
Trying and failing is not failing.
Not trying is failing.
Of course everyone is different, but I know when I eventually pop my clogs, I hope people can look at what I’ve done and say, “he lived a full and interesting life” because I know that’s what I’m trying to do and what my parents always encouraged me to do.
I’ve gone off tangent again haven’t I!?
Well what I want to say is thank you Nigel Doughty for everything.
Thank you for saving my club from extinction.
Thank you for being a good Dad and husband.
Thank you for showing rich doesn’t mean heartless.
Thank you for showing success shouldn’t stop experimentation.
Thank you for getting me to do my bloody annual health check.
Life’s short. Live full.