In a turn of events so dramatic it would make a Shakespearean tragedy look like a pantomime, Danish footballer Christian Eriksen decided to collapse in the middle of a match. Because nothing says 'sports entertainment' like a sudden cardiac arrest, apparently. But fear not, dear readers, for the UK medics were on hand to remind us that in a world of overpaid bureaucrats and political pantomime, actual competence still exists.
While the suits at UEFA were probably scrambling to check their insurance clauses, the medical team sprinted onto the pitch with the kind of urgency usually reserved for the last gin and tonic at a closing bar. They performed CPR, stabilised Eriksen, and generally behaved like the angels of mercy we don't deserve. This is a stark contrast to the usual medical response in Westminster, where the only thing that gets revived is a dead bill.
The irony is thick enough to cut with a scalpel: a footballer, a man paid to kick a ball, gets better emergency care on the pitch than most people get in a hospital waiting room. It's a searing indictment of a system that can mobilise for a televised crisis but leaves the less televised to rot. But let's not dwell on the grim reality.
Instead, raise a glass of airport gin to the medics, the unsung heroes who reminded us that in a circus of inflated egos and fiscal mismanagement, humanity still has a pulse. And for Eriksen, may his recovery be as swift as the response that saved his life. Now, if only we could get that kind of efficiency in the post office.
