Last Sunday morning (April 22), Claire Squires, a 30-year-old hairdresser from Leicestershire, collapsed and died within a mile of the finish of the London Marathon. Hers wasn't the first death in the history on the event (though she was the first woman) and the odds are it won't be the last. Such are the eternal hazards of sport.

Altogether there have been ten fatalities since the Marathon's inception, the last in 2007, yet never has there been an outcry for it to be banned, least of all in Parliament, as there would have been had these occurred in the boxing ring or on the racecourse.

I make no judgement on that, except to say that boxers, like marathon runners, always have a choice as to whether or not they wish to take that risk. Horses do not.

It has not been a good year for tragedies in sport with the titanic-proportioned trauma of Bolton footballer Fabrice Muamba's very public collapse and subsequent fight for survival, the death of a lesser known Italian player, another in rugby and of course, the two fallen horses in the Grand National, where the indefensible carnage continues unabated in a so-called institution that I believe has out-lived its place in our sporting society.

Unlike so many horses, 32 of which have perished in the last half century and a total of 70 since the race's inception in 1839.

Death and sport are so often grim companions. Did you know that last year there were more than 800 fatalities, mainly from heart-related conditions, in sport at various levels, from school to professional, throughout the United Kingdom and goodness knows how many worldwide?


Among the unpublicised British deaths was a girl footballer, around the same age as the 24-year-old midfielder, who collapsed while training and died of cardiac arrest despite attempts by paramedics to save her. As in the case of Claire (pictured).

And on Tuesday (April 24) another tragedy, that of a 15-year-old Kent schoolgirl who died following a game of rounders.

Of course, everyone is mightily relieved that Muamba has survived, living to tell his back from the dead tale in The Sun. It is indeed a harrowing, poignant and ultimately uplifting one; and doubtless suitably rewarded – the fee involved is rumoured to be upwards of a quarter of a million pounds.

Coincidentally, this is roughly the sum amassed for the Samaritans on the fund raising website of Claire Squires within 48 hours of her death.

It is interesting to compare the public and media reaction to the near-death of a moderately well-known footballer to the actual death of an unknown fun runner.

Since Claire's tragic demise in Birdcage Walk, cruelly almost within sight of the finish, reaction has been both rational and respectful, almost muted, even though her story is as compelling as that of Muamba's.

She was running for the Samaritans, which offers support for those in distress, following the apparent suicide of her 25-year-old brother eleven years ago after a drugs overdose. He had sunk into depression after seeing his girlfriend killed in a horrific car crash which he had survived.


Within hours of the news of Claire's own death her internet funding page, in which she had hoped to raise a modest £500 ($807/€611), had some 17,500 donors pledging almost £200,000 ($320,000/€240,000). And the money is still rolling in, around half a million pounds at the time of writing.

What a wonderfully heart-warming, sensible and practical way to remember her.

As I say, we have all been moved by what happened to Muamba, but my concern is that the subsequent outpouring of vicarious grief, a veritable tsunami of Pray 4 Muamba compassion, was somewhat disturbing.

Such a mawkish response, bordering, on the sort of emotional incontinence that followed the death of Lady Di, surely would not have been witnessed had Muamba been anything but a footballer.

It seems that the 'football family' has taken upon itself the role of becoming the nation's sentimental conscience.

Rarely a week goes by now without a minute's tribute to someone associated with the game, however remotely, who may be recently deceased or currently distressed.

So much so that I am surprised the black armband doesn't carry a sponsor's logo.

Ironically, it used to be a minute's silence but now it is sustained applause because the fans can't be trusted to remain mute for sixty seconds.


So maudlin has this become that, when Sheffield United play Stevenage on Saturday (April 28), we might even see a display of Pray 4 Ched T-shirts and a round of applause in 'support' of their striker Ched Evans (pictured), jailed this week for five years for rape but still included in the PFA's League One team of the season? Don't bet against it.

No one should begrudge Muamba any hefty reimbursement for his Sun serialisation as there is no indication as to whether he will ever play football again. He may well have lost his livelihood, though thankfully not his life.

But wouldn't it be nice if there was some indication from those advising him that part of this was to be donated to a medical charity, such as the British Heart Foundation, or the East London hospital that cared for him.

Or at least a website set up so the public could respond in a similarly generous manner to the way they have over Claire.

If the millions who Prayed 4 Muamba believe it helped his miraculous recovery, that's fine.


But let's also pray that nothing like this, or the sad fate that befell the plucky Claire Squires, happens too frequently.

And God forbid, certainly not during the Olympics.

Alan Hubbard is an award-winning sports columnist for The Independent on Sunday, and a former sports editor of The Observer. He has covered a total of 16 Summer and Winter Olympics, 10 Commonwealth Games, several football World Cups and world title from Atlanta to Zaire.