A bond that tied two 'brothers'

In his dressing room lingo that was as individual and irreverent as so often was his batsmanship, Phillip Hughes embraced all under the sobriquet of 'bruz'.

But for Michael Clarke, who had so keenly and proudly watched over Hughes as he graduated at scarcely believable speed from bush-born club cricketer to Test match history maker, the little fella was indeed and indelibly his little 'brother'.

Their familial bond was forged in 2006 when – not far short of his 18th birthday – Hughes packed his cricket kit, transferred schools barely a month before he sat his HSC and moved from the rural sanctuary of Macksville into a two-bedroom flat in Sydney's inner-west.

What coaxed the ambitious teenager from his small pond in northern New South Wales to the vast, deep expanses of the capital was the opportunity to work with renowned batting coach Neil D'Costa whose most recent protégé – Michael Clarke – had already announced his arrival as a future Test phenomenon.

More: Clarke's support for Hughes family lauded

For Hughes, the appeal of the unprepossessing accommodation that he would share with his older brother, Jason, was two-fold.

Its proximity to D'Costa's academy meant he could indulge the almost obsessive commitment to training and perfection that he shared with Clarke.

And the fact that the man who would go on to become Australia's 43rd Test captain had made his home in the very same building during his formative years with D'Costa reassured Hughes that he was treading a path worth following.

By the time they came to share a coach, a cricket philosophy and a range of other peripheral interests – chief among them rugby league, which remained a spirited conversation topic that punctuated their friendship – Clarke knew well the possibilities and pitfalls of international cricket.

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Clarke congratulates Hughes on reaching 150 in his second Test // Getty Images

Having arrived like a comet with a century in his first Test innings on foreign soil (Bangalore) and at home (Brisbane), Clarke had then gone the way of most gun young players who have their technique dissected by opposition strategists and – barely a year later – was dumped from the Test team.

But in that time of soul-searching and self-doubt he received great strength from those who had taken him to their bosom when he arrived – as a precociously talented 20-something with frosted hair and a sparkly earring – in the uncompromising world of international cricket.

The man who became Clarke's most significant influence and most trusted ally within that environment was Shane Warne, who brought a wealth of experiences and a contagious dose of self-belief to their very regular get togethers while touring the globe.

The importance of senior mentors for younger players thus became an integral element in Clarke's captaincy handbook.

And because of their brotherhood that had grown as Hughes forged his own remarkable path into grade ranks (with Western Suburbs where Clarke played in the footsteps of his father, Les, and D'Costa had coached) and soon after State representation, it was a given that the bond between the close mates would grow even stronger when they became Test teammates.

At that point Hughes had barely turned 20 – in fact, he was a week younger than the age at which Don Bradman made his Test debut – and Clarke 27 with 44 Tests to his name.

So the older boy took it upon himself to shoulder all he could to ensure his little 'bruz' felt he belonged upon taking his seat at the big table.

As their complementary careers waxed and waned, the core that remained unaffected was the kinship born almost a decade ago.

And just as Hughes became so much more than Clarke's country cousin, so too did the boy from the western suburbs of Sydney who rose to the national captaincy became an honourary member of the Macksville clan.

Which is why, upon learning that his adopted sibling had been hurt while batting on Tuesday afternoon, Clarke anxiously contacted the SCG press box to find out where his stricken mate would be taken for treatment, and then made a frantic dash for St Vincent's Hospital.

It's why the physical and emotional frustrations that the Australian captain had been battling over previous weeks were forgotten in a trice, and why he was so desperate to see his friend that he was unaware he had parked his car in an area at the Hospital where ambulances were required to dock.

It is why, for the next two days, he could only leave the critically ill batsman's bedside and the devastated members of Hughes's immediate family – of which Clarke was now inextricably one – after midnight to try and grab snatches of sleep before returning to the hospital around dawn.

As Australian cricket team doctor Peter Brukner, the other fixture during this vigil for whom no amount of praise can do justice – revealed through tears on Thursday afternoon "Phillip has always been like a little brother to Michael".

"And Michael's efforts over the last 48 hours to support the family ... the family were obviously going through a difficult time, but I'm not sure they would have coped without Michael's assistance."

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Clarke offers some tips during a net session in London, 2013 // Getty Images

Others who bore witness to the tragic final chapter of the remarkable Phillip Hughes story described the support, the stoicism and the sensitivity that Clarke brought to such a harrowing, unprecedented circumstance as "simply amazing".

He became a fixture, with his other family, inside the hospital's Intensive Care Unit as so many teammates, coaches, administrators, former greats and future champions came to share their prayers and went to deal with their sorrow.

He was there yesterday to physically support Hughes's younger sister Megan when pain of the final prognosis became too much for all to carry.

And he was on hand to offer the experience he has gleaned as Australia's most high-profile sporting office holder and his unquestioned courage to help Hughes's mum and dad, Greg and Virginia, and Jason and Megan draft the statement that would confirm to the world that Phillip's battle was lost.

If confirmation was needed of how integral Michael Clarke had become in helping his second family chart their way through a heartbreak no parents or siblings should be asked to endure, it came when the wording of the statement confirming the worst was being drafted.

The statement that Michael Clarke then delivered on behalf of the other members of the Hughes family.

"Mum," Clarke ever-so-gently and oh-so-lovingly goaded Virginia Hughes, whose distaste for the abbreviation 'Phil' in place of her second-born son's given name has long been a matter of public record.

"I'm sorry, but I'm going to call him Phil."

The drawn but heartfelt smiles the pair then exchanged were those that can only be shared by people whose affinity runs so much deeper than mere friendship in the midst of a such a raw moment.

Soon after, when Clarke told the world that the young man with whom he had talked, trained, travelled, joked, celebrated, consoled, reflected and dreamed would not be celebrating his 26th birthday this weekend, he was unable to lift his reddening eyes from the script.

He prefaced the toughest speech he will ever make by pointing out the statement was being delivered on behalf of Greg, Virginia, Jason and Megan Hughes.

But there was clearly another family member silently present in the sentiments that followed.

"We're devastated by the loss of our much loved son and brother, Phillip.

"It's been a very difficult few days.

"We appreciate all the support we have received from family, friends, players, Cricket Australia and the general public.

"Cricket was Phillip's life and we as a family shared that love of the game with him.

"We would like to thank all the medical and nursing staff at St Vincent's Hospital and Cricket New South Wales medical staff for their great efforts with Phillip.

"We love you."

Michael Clarke then sat with head bowed for a second or two before – for the first time since his loved little 'bruz' had arrived so desperately clinging to life 48 hours earlier – he stood and silently became the first to exit the room.