Vince is Regional Director, Te Whatu Ora, Health New Zealand in Christchurch and has worked all his career in the field of clinical medicine devoted to the wellbeing and care of people. Also as a Willower and premier grade club cricketer, Vince has had a long association with the distinguished Hastings family; with father Brian (31 Tests) one of New Zealand’s best batsmen of his era and son Mark who also played first-class cricket.
Tragically in 2021 Mark took his own life after a long battle with clinical depression. Vince was there throughout as huge support for the family and those left grieving. With the permission of the family we have reprinted words, written by Vince at the time, as a tribute to this remarkable young sportsman and also to provide an insight into challenges Mark faced in life.
Mark Hastings, was born in 1968 in Christchurch, the second son of Maureen and Brian Hastings and loved little bro of Mike. It was a family whom Mark held in deep love and respect.
Mark was known to many as Hasto or in his early times at the Marist club as Yoda (after the Jedi master from Star Wars). He was a gifted sportsman – a natural. Wearing the Red and Black of Canterbury was always a matter of when, not if. Mark was soon to grace the representative fields in both football and cricket to equal measure in his early career. Both codes were somewhat desperate to woo him to their respective arenas. It was following in his father’s footsteps that won the day and it is where he really left his major impact. In all, he played 10 first-class matches and 28 one-day games for Canterbury.
To his representative colleagues Mark was arguably one of the most underrated players in the golden era of Canterbury cricket success through the 1990s. Only the very best can make this unique game look easy, and Mark often did that. He always appeared to have the gift of time, whether it was gliding up to the crease with ball in hand, stroking the ball through the covers or snaffling a catch from an impossible position. He made the game look easy. It was Mark’s selection in the NZ youth team to play in the Youth World Cup in 1988 that was one of his career highlights. ESPN Cricinfo said of Mark at the time: “On his day Mark can be quite brilliant. Whether batting, bowling or fielding, he can be a match winner. If he is fit he is sure to receive many more games.”
This final sentence leads to the second part of this commentary – if he is fit he is sure to receive many more games. Many reading this will be aware at some level of the adversity/challenges that dogged Mark and his family for most of his adult life. So let’s try and simplify this. As human beings we can often display the frailties of the human condition. We may suffer from the scourges of self doubt and anxiety. Do people understand me, am I loved, can I love?
For most of us we can rationalise those thoughts away. They will more than likely be episodic and pass relatively quickly. We will use these experiences and our quick recovery to adapt to future challenges. Of course this will rely so much on our bio-chemical engineering in that computer called the brain. The chemical messengers that regulate all sorts of bodily functions. Simply put, we rely on the oil that feeds the elements of our brain to be able to respond to the pressure in our daily lives. For most of us our brains engineering works relatively effectively ... for Mark it didn’t.
My early experiences with Mark displayed a malfunction if you like of that biochemical engineering. We can only guess the cause. Was it a virus of some sort, was there a predisposition? We can only work with what happened. There were many occasions especially in those earlier years where Mark found himself in a state which left him almost catatonic, simply sitting on the couch at his home hardly able to communicate.
Mark’s response to those early episodes were heroic in the speed of their recovery. One such time was only hours before his selection in the NZ Youth Cricket team he remained in the stranglehold of one of those states. Some short time later (two weeks) Mark could boast that he had amongst others the scalps of a young Nasser Hussain and Jimmy Adams.
As the years progressed it appeared the severity of the mood components of Mark’s symptoms abated, but were replaced with ever increasing level of self deprecation, and anxiety that would lead to further deterioration of Mark’s abilities to interact successfully and allow a full recovery.
As most of Mark’s peers worked through the many milestones of life, Mark didn’t achieve many of those which further compounded his sense of self-worth and acceptance. This state became very chronic and Mark chose amongst other things to remove himself from much of his social contacts. Many people reached out to Mark to offer support and assistance and would often have had the experience of rejection. I can tell you there was no malice in Mark’s response to your intentions. In fact in the numerous conversations I had with Mark he expressed embarrassment and a sense of hopelessness. He wanted to be accepted, but as time progressed this became harder for him to experience.
The burden of Mark’s, at times, tortuous existence was not just borne by him alone. Close family were also exposed to this battle in many ways. I want to acknowledge the confusion and helplessness they often felt as they worked so hard to bring about peace with Mark. There is also no doubt that Brian’s deteriorating health had a significant impact on Mark as he wrestled inside his own world.
Speaking for him today I can say Mark would not want to make excuses for the burden that was carried by many or try and justify his actions. He would however had one short statement, namely KNOW ME BEFORE YOU JUDGE ME. So it is important for that context to be expressed, however it’s the cheeky little, vibrant loving Hasto that we remember here.
Mā te wā.