Fabrice Muamba: I'm Still Standing Page 10

  Again I got the letter from England and all the other great perks but this time I was to be disappointed when I didn’t feature as part of Stuart’s main plans.

  We met up for about 10 days before we embarked for the tournament in Denmark and we trained hard and enjoyed ourselves. I was ready to offer everything I had but I got a rude awakening when Stuart came to my room on the day of the opening game against Spain. He knocked on the door, walked in and hit me with the bad news.

  “I know you’re disappointed, you’ve always been a great example to the other lads but you won’t be starting,” he said.

  He fronted up and gave the news to me straight and I have to give Stuart credit for that. He treated me like a man and just came out with it. Managers make decisions for their own reasons and you’ve got to respect that, even though I wanted to jump on the first plane back to England. I spoke to dad and he said “do what Stuart tells you, support the team and be professional” and Shauna said exactly the same. “Grind it out,” she said. “Support the guys who are around you just like they support you.”

  We drew against Spain and Ukraine and it meant that we had to win against the Czech Republic. I started the game and was determined to show that I belonged in the starting XI. I had kept my mouth shut about my frustrations, I had worked hard in training and I had stayed in touch with dad and Shauna. This was my time to show everyone.

  Unfortunately it wasn’t meant to be as we went down 2-1 to go out. Danny Welbeck gave us the lead with a header and we thought we had it in the bag. It goes to show you what we knew. They scored two late goals and we went out. Two years previously we had made the final and now we were going home early. It was my last game for the Under-21s so to go out in that manner left me heartbroken. It was just so hard to take.

  After the game the dressing room was like a library. Nothing could be done to cheer us up. Stuart was brilliant, he gathered us together, looked us in the eye and said: “This is tournament football, this is what happens at the sharp end. Learn from this experience.”

  We dragged ourselves back to the hotel in silence and when it came to departing and checking out I got a phone call from Stuart just before I left my room.

  “Come to my room please,” he said. I went up to see him and he was great.

  “I know you’re disappointed.” he said. “But you could see what I was trying to do for the team. I know you’ve been very supportive of the team over the years. Thanks for your efforts.”

  We shook hands and I left. There were no hard feelings then and there are no hard feelings now. I loved every minute of my Under-21s time – even the difficult moments. It was a huge honour. England had given me this chance to survive and thrive – it was mind-blowing that this kid from Africa was playing in international tournaments – and I will never be able to repay all those responsible for that, starting with Stuart himself.

  When I look back on my time with the Under-21s I think it gave me half a chance of playing full internationals. My hope was to get there one day – but God had other plans.

  #####

  Owen puts his hands on the physio table and wonders what he can possibly say to make it all ok.

  He looks at my team-mates sitting down in front of him. Every single one of them refuses to look him in the eye. Socks are rolled down, boots and shinpads are lying everywhere. Not a sound is being made. Grown men, used to vicious banter and not much else, are sat around crying. All of them. Owen can tell they feel a bit embarrassed.

  “Listen, this is where we are,” he says. “Fabrice is in the best hands. They’ve given him some shocks and when I know anything you’ll know the same. And if you believe in God – start saying your prayers.”

  He looks at Kevin Davies, our leader, who is sat directly in front of him, choking back tears. “Skipper,” Owen says. “Get your tracksuit on. We’re going to the hospital right now.”

  Dr Sam Mohiddin is about to miss his girlfriend Laura-Ann’s birthday celebrations. He receives a call from an old friend he trained with who now works at North Middlesex who is intrigued about where I’m going to be heading. Dr Mohiddin has no clue about what has happened at White Hart Lane so he calls the London Chest Hospital and finds out that someone is on their way. He jumps into his car and heads to work from his home in Hackney.

  On the ambulance every person’s role has become clearer without a word of instruction being uttered.

  Not one.

  These blokes are psychic. Dr Tobin works my chest, Peter keeps his eye on the oxygen while Paul and Dr Deaner sort out the drugs I need to come back.

  The only person letting the side down is me.

  #9

  Love And Hope

  AN ambulance is not a steady place when it comes to trying to save someone’s life. As Dr Tobin presses down on my chest he cannot quite get a full compression in. He’s all over the place because the football boots he’s still got on are causing him to slip and slide all over the ambulance’s floor. It’s like trying to perform CPR on a surfboard.

  “Here, let me help,” Anthony says and he jams himself against a seat behind Dr Tobin, holding him securely and anchoring him in place, stopping the slipping instantly. Problem solved.

  I’ve had 10 shocks by now but still nothing. Dr Deaner glances at Dr Tobin and offers a look that says all it needs to about how concerned he is getting.

  ‘A 23-year-old professional athlete should be back by now,’ he thinks to himself. If I was going to survive then Dr Deaner reckons the pitch was the likeliest place for that to happen.

  But we’re not on the pitch. We’re in an ambulance and I’m lying here doing nothing at all.

  More adrenaline, more nothing. One thing seems to lead to another in this cramped, sweaty space.

  The line Dr Deaner has placed in my leg won’t stay in place. Blood spurts from my groin as it becomes clear that it’s come loose. I wish I could lean down and help out. My elasticated Bolton shorts won’t stay out of the way, they keep falling down and snagging the line. It’s not the end of the world but another procedure that needs to be repeated.

  Dr Deaner aims for the other side of my groin this time and easily makes it two from two for the day. But my shorts continue to get on his nerves. “Pass me those scissors Pete,” he says. Peter passes them over and my shorts go the same way as my shirt did. That’s the end of that.

  “Stay where you are, I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Ricardo Gardner’s partner, Suki, shouts down the phone to Shauna before racing down to Cheshire from their place in Bolton. The four of us have become really good mates and regularly go out together. After Warwick, Suki is the first person Shauna rings. She needs her calm advice. She’s like Shauna’s big sister. She knows Suki won’t collapse on her. Shauna can’t let anything distract her from her mission of getting to London as soon as possible.

  “Right guys, let’s move the pads back and front,” Dr Deaner says to Dr Tobin and Peter. Up until now the AED pads have been stuck on my chest. But they ain’t been doing much. Dr Deaner decides it’s time to roll the dice.

  Dr Tobin stands aside for a split second and is starting to think that whatever they try is going to be too little too late. He’s not a pessimistic man, just a realistic one. If a 23-year-old isn’t alive and kicking after 13 shocks and a ton of drugs then his medical experience tells him that my odds are getting worse by the second.

  Peter wouldn’t normally change the position of the pads, leaving that to those who specialise in heart trouble, those who work in a secure hospital rather than on the back of a rocking ambulance that is threading its way through London.

  Well, today, that specialist isn’t on the end of a phone or a mile away waiting for me to turn up. He’s stood next to him.

  ‘Let’s give it a go,’ Peter thinks. ‘Let’s do everything we can for this guy.’

  “Ready, brace, roll,” he says. I’m tipped to my right as one pad is placed on my back and a new one is stuck on my front. Dr Deaner also hooks me up to the amb
ulance’s own defibrillator rather than the one used on the pitch. He’s scared the battery might be starting to fade. After 13 massive shocks it’s a good call to make.

  #####

  I first met Shauna in a nightclub called Oceana in Birmingham. It’s not hard to remember when it was because we’d won our first home game in the Premier League that day! That might not be the most romantic way of remembering when it was but beating Bolton Wanderers – of all teams – and then meeting her means September 15, 2007 is an extra special date in my mind.

  After the victory I was seriously pumped up and ready for a big night out. Olivier Kapo mentioned that some of the guys wanted to check out this new club so I was more than happy to go along. Myself, Radhi Jaïdi, Bruno N’Gotty, Mehdi Nafti and Kapo all piled into the place where we went in the VIP room and started enjoying ourselves.

  It was then that I saw her.

  The VIP area had windows which meant you could see out but people couldn’t see in and I spotted this girl, surrounded by her friends, having a great time.

  “Olivier, I’m going out there,” I said. “I’ve got to speak to that girl.” To this day I don’t know where the courage or will to do it came from. I was normally very, very shy when it came to speaking to girls. But it just felt like something I had to do so I found this boldness from somewhere. It took some bravery to go over and I wasn’t even drinking so I couldn’t even blame that!

  Olivier soon started grinning and knew what I was playing at. You know what mates are like – he tried to ruin it from the start. “Stay in here,” he said. “There’s plenty of girls around here. Be quiet, man.”

  But my mind was made up. “You guys can do what you want – you can stay in here forever – but I’m going out there,” I said, not quite sure what I was going to do or say when I finally got over to Shauna.

  “Hi, do you girls want a drink,” I nervously said. Looking back now I could cringe at what I was wearing – boy, I was loud back then! I managed to make some Gucci shoes, jeans and a shirt look like the worst outfit you’ve ever seen. I was certainly looking worse than Shauna, put it like that.

  “No, we’re ok thanks,” was the answer I heard back above the sound of the speakers. It looked like I was heading for disaster but Shauna’s mates then rescued me by saying “yeah, ok, we’ll have a drink.” I’ve never been so relieved to have to buy a few rounds.

  That bought me some time with Shauna and we slowly started talking and smiling more, her looking gorgeous, me trying not to ruin it. We ended up dancing and I kept sorting out drinks for her and her mates and before I knew it the guys had left and it was time for the club to close.

  I knew it was getting close to crunch time but because I was driving I offered to give Shauna and her friends a lift back to their homes. Of course I left Shauna until last, getting increasingly nervous as the number of people in my car dropped from five, to four, to three until there was eventually just two of us left.

  This was it. I turned to her in the car and said “when can I see you again?” We then swapped numbers and I tried to remain calm despite the big problems on the horizon.

  Firstly I’d told her I was 24 when I was only 18 and, secondly, I’d told her that my name was... erm... Marcus.

  Back then it just seemed easier to give a stupid false name so you didn’t attract the wrong girls who only seemed interested in you because of your day job. There’s no denying that a lot of girls only show you any attention because you’re a footballer. By pretending to be someone else, I at least got a chance to work out whether a girl was for real or not.

  The problems didn’t end there either. After we had swapped numbers I took a deep breath, turned to my left and tried to give her a kiss on the lips. All I got back was cheek – and I mean that literally. There would be no late-night kiss tonight and I was actually ok with that and impressed with that. This girl seemed to be the real deal and still seemed to be in control and not turning crazy on me. I happily dropped her off and drove home excitedly, thinking that I’d found a great girl who liked me for me and me alone. I soon realised that she was also as sharp and as tuned in as it gets.

  “What do you do for a living?”

  Those were the first words I heard when I answered the phone in bed at the crack of dawn the next day.

  Shauna had gone home and immediately worked out that I wasn’t who I said I was.

  “I don’t know any guy in Birmingham driving an Audi A3 and buying drinks for people all night,” she said. “So come clean, are you that Fabrice guy who plays football?”

  Oh shit. She had seen my photo in the paper.

  “Let me call you back,” I spluttered before putting the phone down and cursing myself for being so stupid. It looked like I’d ruined it from the start. I told you I was useless with girls.

  I ended up speeding over to her place to try and undo the damage from the night before. I took her to Nando’s near Broad Street – classy hey? – I laid it on the line and told her what was up and we had a conversation about who I was.

  I introduced myself properly as Fabrice and she certainly put me in my place and told me she wasn’t impressed by me being a footballer. Soon after, over a plate of chicken wings, I finally managed to clarify everything and we sorted it out and I apologised.

  I was in the doghouse so I picked the bill up and I knew I had to do everything right, which finally worked, and we became very close very quickly. We just clicked immediately – you know how it is when you find the right person.

  She used to live about 20 minutes from my place and I would drive over and see her about four times a week. She then passed her driving test so she would come around to mine as well. We just did couple stuff like going to the cinema or a nice restaurant.

  Shauna basically started kicking me into shape. And I needed it. I had lived at home before moving to Birmingham and was no different to any other lazy teenage boy. When I moved north, firstly into a flat and then my house in Solihull, the place was like a normal single man’s pad – a bit of a mess. But Shauna soon changed all that. She came round, showed off her amazing cooking skills and even cleaned my clothes and helped sort me out. I was thinking ‘this is getting serious’ as she brought some order and shape to my life. My step-mum had been the only other person who had taken care of that kind of stuff but now Shauna was pulling me into gear as well. She was just a wonderful, nice girl – a very special woman. She came over one night with the ingredients for rice, peas and chicken and cooked me my first proper meal in ages. Wow. I have nothing but love for that woman. She is very, very special for a million reasons. She gave me Joshua, who is the greatest gift in the world. She is strong, confident and always speaks her mind and, there’s no two ways about it, she puts me in my place when I need it.

  The power of a woman when it comes to making a home and a family cannot be defeated and Shauna is no different. She is an amazing person.

  However, that does not mean I was the perfect early boyfriend and I made some mistakes that could have proved to be the end for us as a couple.

  During 2007, after me and Shauna had been going out for about nine months and after I had started playing more at Birmingham, I also started playing the field and we inevitably split up. What can I say? I was an idiot; I thought I was a playboy back then.

  My earlier lack of confidence with girls had been replaced by me thinking I could run around Birmingham trying to get my groove on. I hold my hands up entirely – it was silly of me to act in that way, it was silly of me to hurt Shauna that way and to also get other people involved.

  I wanted the freedom that being a young man can offer you, especially a young man with a high profile. I’m not the first or the last footballer to act stupidly when all these temptations are placed in front of you. I met this other girl at the barbers and got wrapped up in something I shouldn’t have done.

  The madness didn’t end there either.

  After leaving Shauna for that girl, I then bounced on to another very quick
ly, which just made me look like more of an idiot. Shauna was very, very upset. Very. Upset. It was the worst I’ve ever seen her and it was unforgivable. When I look back I just think I was a young man who was clueless about what matters. I could’ve handled it very differently.

  One day Shauna rang me and said we needed to talk. Although we had split up we remained in touch and she came over to my house and dropped the news on me.

  I was going to be a father.

  I thought all hell was going to break loose. At the time I was very selfish and all I thought about was me, me, me. Shauna had got pregnant right at the end of our relationship, just before it had ended. She obviously didn’t know for a while that she was expecting and then had to put up with me and my behaviour until she came clean and told me the score.

  After announcing her news, she told me how it was and told me that I had to be a good father to my baby. At the time I couldn’t believe what I had got myself into.

  However, I knew it was time to be a man and step up and take responsibility. The selfishness had to end. I had to take care of my child. I’d got myself into this situation so it was time to do the right thing.

  After Shauna left, I rang my step-mum Gertrude and told her the situation.

  “I think you need to tell your dad in person,” she said. I reluctantly agreed despite being nervous about it.

  They still thought I was the shy, innocent Fabrice they had sent up to Birmingham but I had changed a fair bit by then and when I drove down to London the next day I didn’t know what to say or how to say it.

  I psyched myself up in the car outside before almost sneaking in through the front door. Dad was in the living room and my appearance was a surprise. He knew straight away that something wasn’t right.