Hyron Andrews' shock passing has left the rugby world in mourning.

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Rugby brings people together like few other sports. It creates lifelong friendships, extraordinary bonds and memories that endure long after the final whistle.

But it is also a game played by human beings, and no amount of passion, preparation or camaraderie can shield them from life’s harsh realities.

The tragic death of Hyron Andrews, the Lions lock who died in France last week, has brought that reality into sharp focus once again. For those of us who have spent decades covering rugby, it is a painful reminder that we have witnessed such tragedies before — moments when the game stops, the score no longer matters, and the rugby family is left to confront the unthinkable.

I have been present at some of those moments. They are memories that never leave you.

I was at a nightclub on Durban’s Umgeni Road after the Sharks had beaten the Brumbies in a Super Rugby match on March 29, 2009.

Suddenly, people rushed towards the exit, and out of curiosity I followed. The scene outside was straight out of a movie — a man lying in the road, alarmed people gathered around him, voices shouting for help and car hazard lights flashing.

The stricken man was Brumbies player Shawn MacKay, and Sharks prop Dr Jannie du Plessis was one of the first on the scene.

Some Brumbies players had been leaving the club when they spilled onto the road and into the path of an approaching car, which struck MacKay.

MacKay was unresponsive when Du Plessis reached him, but the doctor worked skilfully to revive him. Although he remained unconscious, there was hope he might recover.

A week later, MacKay tragically died of complications following surgery.

It was a stark reminder that rugby’s celebrations and camaraderie can be shattered in an instant.

Five years earlier, in 2004, I was at Kings Park covering the World Under-19 Rugby Championship. During the opening match between Ireland and New Zealand, play came to a lengthy halt after what appeared to be a serious injury to Irish captain John McCall.

It was later revealed that McCall had died of a heart attack.

The distraught Ireland team withdrew from the tournament.

Ten years after McCall’s death, his fellow flanker that tragic day, Stephen Ferris, told the BBC of the nightmare experienced by those young men.

Ferris went on to play for Ireland and the British & Irish Lions. In 2009, he returned to Kings Park with the Lions, who lost to the Springboks 26-21in the first Test. One wonders whether he spared a thought for the teammate whose life had been lost there five years earlier.

Ferris would never forget the moment he realised something terrible had happened to McCall.

“There was a lineout and a ball over the top; both jumpers missed it,” Ferris recalled.

“I caught it, went into contact, and a few phases later looked back and saw John was lying on the ground.

“At that stage, nobody had an idea. It was the most bizarre halftime. Allen Clarke was the forwards coach, and he said something that will stick with me forever.

“He said, ‘Your teammate is fighting for his life; go out and make him proud’.

“Straight away we were like, ‘What? Is he not just knocked out? What the hell is going on?’

“As the final whistle went, we got into a huddle on the pitch, and we were told that John had died. I remember just falling to my knees and burying my head into the turf, bawling my eyes out like a three-year-old.”

Meanwhile, Chris Burger’s tragedy remains one of the saddest chapters in South African rugby history.

On August 30, 1980, Western Province played Free State in a Currie Cup match in Bloemfontein.

In the final moments of the match, fullback Burger raced back to collect a kick and was caught in possession by two Free Staters. The 28-year-old suffered a broken neck during the ensuing maul and died in hospital in the early hours of the following morning.

“I remember very few things about my rugby career clearly, but that day is imprinted in my mind,” said Morne du Plessis, Burger’s teammate and a former Springbok captain.

“When you know something is serious, you don’t have to be told, but Chris was still conscious when I arrived at the hospital. He spoke about the play and said he hoped he didn’t let the team down, and I replied, ‘Don’t worry about that.’

“Then he said, ‘Please look after my family and ask the guys to see that they’re okay.’ Even then, being a young man, I still didn’t fully realise the gravity of the situation, and two hours later, he passed. We were absolutely devastated.”

Du Plessis never forgot that request. The Chris Burger-Petro Jackson Players' Fund was launched and continues to assist seriously injured players and their families.

In 2016, another tragedy struck the rugby world.

Rassie Erasmus was a few months into his job as Munster’s director of rugby when coach Anthony “Axel” Foley died in his sleep in his hotel bed. Foley had suffered heart failure while the team were in Paris for a Champions Cup fixture.

Erasmus stepped in as head coach for the remainder of the season before joining the Springboks in 2017.

He has spoken about how profoundly Foley’s death affected him, saying that at Munster he “grew up”.

After winning the 2019 World Cup final, Erasmus promised an Irish journalist that he would visit Foley’s grave with his medal.

Reflecting on his time at Munster, Erasmus said:

“What Munster did for me on a coaching level — not just the people, the players and the assistant coaches, and when Axel passed away — I hopefully grew as a person and understood people and things better because I was maybe not so good at that.

“Axel played a big part in my coaching career. I would not be the coach I am if it were not for Axel.”

Foley’s death changed Erasmus, just as McCall’s death changed Ferris and Burger’s death changed Du Plessis.

The deaths of Shawn MacKay, John McCall, Chris Burger and Anthony Foley each left an indelible mark on those who knew them, played alongside them or witnessed the tragedies that took their lives.

And now, the rugby community is mourning Hyron Andrews.

These are reminders that rugby, for all its extraordinary ability to unite people, is not immune to life’s realities. The players who run onto the field are sons, brothers, fathers, husbands, and friends. They are not invincible, and neither are the people who stand beside them.