Of all the numerous tributes at Shaki Crockwell's funeral yesterday, one more than any other hammered home the devastation his tragic shooting has caused to his family.

Written on behalf of the murder victim's youngest son Santiago Trott-Crockwell — just about six months old — it said: "Hey Daddy. I didn't know that God would take you away from me so soon.

"I will always remember those few precious moments we spent together. I'm happy that my first word was 'Daddy'.

"When I score my first goal, I know you will be saying: 'That's my son, Santiago.'"

The message, read to a silent congregation at King Street's Seventh Day Adventist Church, was just one of many moments which left friends and family members lost for words yesterday.

From early afternoon, as mourners started to filter into the church long before the ceremony began, a quiet, depressed air hung over proceedings as people continued to struggle to come to terms with the shock killing of one of the football community's most popular players.

Mr. Crockwell's Bermuda Hogges and Boulevard Blazers teammates arrived in small groups, nodding solemnly to each other as they shook hands and touched fists.

Nobody needed to say anything — the statements on their shirts said it all. "Friend, funny, football star, kind", read one T-shirt. "How do you want it? Shaki you will be greatly missed," said another. Others simply said: "RIP Shaki".

Everybody seemed to have their own way of paying tribute, from the photographs of the father-of-two adorned across their tops to the tags around their necks carrying a picture of his face; from their black and white captain's armbands to their green, red and yellow kits, the colours of Mr. Crockwell's beloved Boulevard.

Leading the way was Mr. Crockwell's devastated father Danny Crockwell, who donned a white outfit with a green, red and yellow number ten on one leg and a big picture of his son on the other.

He walked into the church flanked by the victim's many siblings before the church quickly filled, with many having to stand at the back and in the foyer.

Christy "Ms Thang" Burgess, of Hott 107.5, a friend of Mr. Crockwell, read out tributes from the family, including young Santiago's.

"You were more than a brother to me," read one from a sister. Another sister said she was waiting for him to come home on his bike and say: "Hey, you've got the wrong person."

One tribute said: "He had a laugh that would make you laugh. He was so funny that the joke could be on you and you would be laughing."

Offering an insight into the anger which has descended on the community, another said: "How dare you come and take away my Shaq? You are the person who will never be forgotten; the one with no face.

"You are the person tossing in your sleep; the one who will never have any peace."

Sister Chianne then read an obituary, revealing how as youngsters her mischievous brother locked her in a chicken coop and when he was older he thought of himself as the Dance Hall King.

She also explained how in recent times he had been passing his football skills onto younger players as a coach.

Singer Damika "Tiny T" Tacklin performed some songs she had written herself, before pastor Damon Hendrickson, Mr. Crockwell's cousin, took to the stage to deliver an impassioned speech urging Bermuda to break its circle of violence.

As the 90-minute service came to an end, the coffin, with a pair of blue football boots on top, was carried out through a guard of honour made up of footballers.

The pallbearers placed it in the hearse before joining Mr. Crockwell Sr. in a group hug.

The father then made his way in a car towards the burial at the Seventh Day Adventist Cemetery in St. George's, pausing briefly to say: "It's been beautiful."

At the back of the church, scores of people wrote messages on a giant poster of Mr. Crockwell.

One said: "M-Town's President, aka Superman, can never be killed. Forever living and timeless."

The funeral programme contained a message from Mr. Crockwell's mother Sandra Lambert, saying: "I know that you are gone, but you live on in my grandson Qwezi. He is a constant reminder of what you were like as a child. Every time I see him, I see you."

It also contained a dedication submitted by eight-year-old Qwezi, written in June, titled: "Why my father should be father of the year."

"He is special to me and he works to put the clothes on my back," said Qwezi's note. "My father is special to me because God created him for me and my brother. My father has always been there for me because I always get hurt."