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The Middle Eastern journalist Jerrold Kessel played cricket for the Israeli national team in the 1970’s. Mr. Kessel died earlier this year. Much admired for his even-handed approach to the Israel/Palestine dispute and for his TV contributions for CNN, Jerrold never lost his love for the sport he played. As he was dying he told friends he was playing for a draw and near the end he remarked. “The fielders are closing in.”

The discussion about famous last words cropped up recently amongst a crowd of us. What would be our last words was proving to be a difficult question. As you’re flirting with death is it better to have a statement up your sleeve or go with the flow and improvise depending on the circumstances of your nearing demise?

“Tell Sonia I love her” spouted an inebriated friend. As last words go this one was personal, though it would probably be better all round if his wife were called Laura. I hesitated to say I write the poems that no one reads, though that’s more of an epitaph than a memorable swansong. Other drinkers composed more one line contenders that didn’t quite hit the spot. The dying conversation told us that you’d be better off trying to wing it on the day.

Although you can pre-book your coffin it might be jumping the gun to pre-determine your last words. If you feel strongly enough to copyright them, a few years- you’d hope many years- down the line they might sound hackneyed. Your punch line might be dated while you’ve got copyright egg all over your face.

There are lots of well-known lists of the dying words of the famous and infamous. One of my favourites was Henrik Johan Ibsen’s off the cuff pronouncement on hearing a nurse say that he was getting better. This catchphrase was used by Del Boy Trotter every other episode or so. The Norwegian playwright said, most probably in his native language: On the contrary.