It’s impossible to hear or see Cathy Freeman’s 400 m win replayed without a lump forming in the throat or the hairs on the arm standing on end.

Yet there is one memory which is tinged with more than a hint of sadness.

During the Olympics a friend, a triathlete, who was sponsored by a particular national clothing brand invited me to join him for a few drinks at their VIP bar which was set up at the Maritime Museum.

There we settled in for a few night caps with a young Queensland triathlete who had made her debut by finishing fifth at the Sydney Olympics. Her name was a Loretta Harrop.

With Loretta was her younger brother Luke, who was still an up-and-coming triathlete. Luke, like Loretta then, had the world at his feet. He was an incredible athlete with movie star looks.

It was a pleasant evening chatting into the early hours before we decided it was well and truly time to adjourn.

Sadly, two years later, Luke’s life was tragically cut short. While on a training ride in Queensland he was struck by a car and died.

The female driver who struck Luke was on bail and driving without a license at the time. She plead guilty to dangerous driving causing death, as well as other offences. 

The moment I heard the news of Luke’s death, it changed my attitude to the roads forever.

Many of my friends were and still are cyclists or triathletes.

I have a nephew who has a growing passion for the sport of triathlon.

As a person with strong emotional ties to people who ride, you live with a mortal fear too that every time they get on the bike you might just not see them again through no fault of their own.

It is that mortal fear which evokes such passion from cyclists and their kin in response to stories like the one this week of a deadbeat driver abusing two cyclists at Jamberoo for doing absolutely nothing wrong. Nothing wrong. 

Stop, think and share the roads. The alternative consequences are just not something you ever want to experience. 

READ MORE: Drivers you don’t own the roads