WHAT have you got planned for the weekend?

Going to see City at Doncaster? But then what?

Don’t just let time drift by doing nothing. Make the most of every moment.

That’s surely the message that has hit home this week in the wake of the devastating news about Stephen Darby.

Four days on and it still seems unreal that we are talking about him and a fatal disease.

Life can be very unfair as Mark Lawn put it among the many tributes to be delivered in the wake of Darby’s announcement.

A salutary lesson in living for the here and now when one of the real good guys gets struck down by something so evil.

Nobody needs me telling them about Darby’s consummate professionalism on and off the field. Everybody knew it – team-mates, managers, friends, fans.

You could hear the deep-rooted affection in the kind words that have rightly been showered on a player who has set an example for all.

They weren’t simple platitudes trotted out on cue; these were genuine messages of thanks and respect for a model sportsman – and a friend.

The giveaways were the pauses; the involuntary swallow; the hesitation in clearing the lump in the throat; this has hit a lot of football people very hard.

Phil Parkinson had called before the official announcement to warn me what was coming. He had known for just under a week since the diagnosis.

He later spoke eloquently about a player synonymous with bringing the good times back to Valley Parade. But you could sense the strain as he talked; the sad news had not become any more palatable because he had known about it for a few days.

The fact that Darby had wanted to come into training to tell his Bolton team-mates personally says everything about his strength of character.

He will need that going forward for the worrying times ahead.

Motor neurone disease takes no prisoners, even more so for those unlucky enough to be diagnosed at such a young age.

But Darby, as we know, is a fighter. However the odds may seem stacked against him, he will face everything head on.

It seems a bit churlish to reminisce about football when someone not even in the prime of life is gearing up for such an horrendous battle.

Yet, you can guarantee that Darby will be watching this afternoon’s scores as closely as ever.

To think, he was in the crowd only a fortnight ago for David Hopkin’s first City game in charge at Blackpool.

Liverpool are his team – and he remains a passionate Red – but claret and amber are the colours that marked Darby as a player. Five years as a Bantam is quite a landmark in the modern era; 239 appearances, one goal – and that in only his sixth game.

Yet the bare statistics don’t tell the story. Here was a man who helped shape the City that dragged this proud club back from League Two obscurity.

One of Parkinson’s earliest signings in that summer of 2012 when “history makers” were forged and without doubt one of the best.

Darby was the template for the success that followed. Hard, determined, a proper footballer.

Like defensive partner Rory McArdle, he shunned the garish coloured boots worn by so many to stick with plain black. Nothing flashy; built for substance not style.

For someone who played for City so long, the Telegraph & Argus archives are not blessed with thousands of action pictures.

Even the image of his solitary goal celebration against Burton features a bunch of team-mates with Darby still out of shot in the distance.

But he was never one for hogging the headlines; it was all about the team. That’s why he is universally so popular.

Of course, there was that amazing knack of goalline clearances which he turned into an art form. There is still a highlight reel somewhere on Youtube glorifying some of those rescue acts.

Parkinson called it a “sixth sense” and admitted it stopped surprising him when Darby’s alertness to danger would save one goal after another. But you couldn’t find a more modest hero.

I won’t be the only one who has had the Human League song stuck on loop in their head this week. Keep fighting Stephen Darby baby.