Fabrice Muamba: I'm Still Standing Read online

  “Dad, I need to talk to you,” I said. “I’ve been seeing a girl in Birmingham and now she’s pregnant.”

  He sat opposite me as he absorbed the news. He wasn’t too impressed. I was just a kid really.

  “Why, why, why,” he said, before adding that I had to do what was right.

  I left the house as quick as I could as dad said he needed some time to think about the news. I felt upset and I felt we could’ve had a decent chat but maybe it’s just African culture not to talk about such things straight away.

  I rang him when I got back to Birmingham that night and we were ok, we smoothed any bumps over and I can hardly blame him. He was right, it was all a mess.

  I soon got advice from others such as Rashid who told me what I already knew – that is was time to be a man, be a father, be a decent human being.

  Warwick said the same thing and I knew I would stand by Shauna when she had our child.

  I remained with the other girl throughout this time because I couldn’t find the courage to tell her I had got another girl pregnant but I rented Shauna an apartment and provided her with everything she needed.

  Just to complicate matters further, I made my switch to Bolton during the summer of 2008 and the complications followed me even further north. I was trying to get on and succeed at the new club as well as sorting my private life out.

  When I moved to Bolton I still hadn’t split up with the other girl while still trying to provide for Shauna. What can I say? I was a fool and I would do a lot of things differently these days.

  Inevitably she found out about Shauna’s pregnancy and she was really upset. She arrived at my place in Knutsford and I had to tell her everything. She had every right to know that I was going to become a father and that Shauna was the mother. It wasn’t a pretty conversation. All I seemed to do was cause trouble to people I cared about. It wasn’t and isn’t a proud time in my life.

  We remained together all the way through the pregnancy while I still tried to support Shauna as much as I could. It was a case of juggling my life by standing by my responsibilities as well as staying in another relationship.

  Finally I got a phone call on a Friday night and it was Shauna saying “I might give birth at any time now.” I stayed in the northwest to go training on the Saturday and when I came back it was clear the labour had started after one of Shauna’s mates rang me and told me to get to Birmingham as soon as possible.

  How many times can you see your first child born? Exactly. It was hardly something I wanted to miss, plus my first child might be my last.

  I raced to Birmingham and she was in the waiting room with her mum, Marva, who was understandably frosty with me. She was taken into the delivery room and I went in with her and it was all done very quickly. I kept telling her to push and she was screaming her head off. I was holding her hand and I thought she was going to crush my fingers! I guess she was in more pain than me though…

  Anyway, in no time at all I was handed this tiny little bundle.

  And it was at that split second on Saturday, November 1, 2008 that I became a man.

  I held him as he cried – this tiny, perfect healthy baby boy. I was buzzing. In fact I was miles beyond buzzing.

  #####

  “Is he dead?” Shauna asks Dean Brooke, the Bolton player liaison officer who has just got in touch.

  “I don’t want to say, I don’t know. They’re doing everything they can,” he replies. “We can send a car to come and get you,” he adds. Forget that. It will take too long. Shauna’s mum takes care of Joshua, as well as rushing Shauna and Suki to Wilmslow train station.

  The two of them stand in the waiting room desperately hoping there is a train to London. There isn’t a train to London.

  As they stand there Shauna looks up at the TV screen and watches BBC News. The screen is covered in pictures of me. They are pictures of me dying.

  ‘Fabrice Muamba, who plays football for Bolton Wanderers, has collapsed during an FA Cup match against Tottenham Hotspur,’ the newsreader announces. ‘We will bring you more news on this breaking story when we get it.’

  Shauna is calm and cool. She’s on auto-pilot. Finally her and Suki manage to get a train to Stockport where they then jump on board and head for Euston. They upgrade to First Class. It only costs an extra £15 on a Saturday.

  She closes her eyes and wishes she could be in London with me, right now. She doesn’t know what she should be expecting or what she should be thinking.

  Nobody does.

  #10

  Buying Time

  AFTER Birmingham had been relegated I went to New York that summer. While I was there, Warwick called me to let me know that Bolton Wanderers were interested in me. Their manager wanted to meet, so when I got back, we drove up to the Reebok Stadium where Gary Megson outlined his plans. He wanted to build a young side and he invited me to be part of it.

  I cost five and a bit million and my wage also increased substantially. I’m living the dream here. £5,000 appearance fee, £5,000 win bonus. That kind of money was so far beyond my understanding at the time it might as well have been dollars or euros or whatever. I couldn’t get my head around it, although I did like to spend a fair bit on a nice watch and stuff like that. I also moved in to a tidy apartment above a bookshop. It was great, life was different up north and I used to enjoy going out in Manchester. I kept checking Birmingham’s results. They had made me very welcome, I owed them so much and they were really good to me. I still check their results now.

  Gary was a good manager and I respect him for bringing me to Bolton. Some managers like to raise their voice and some don’t. Gary did. He really did. That was just the way he was. There is nothing wrong with that.

  People often wonder now whether managers are as feared as they once were because players are on so much more money than ever before. But, trust me, there is always respect. They are the boss and they can do what they want. He was very tough on me, like so many before him had been, but again that was only because he wanted the best for me and he was so desperate for Bolton to succeed. I was not cheap and like any manager he wanted me to reward his faith. I tried my best to do that.

  I remember one day he tore into me at half-time when we were playing at home. We were in the dressing room and he fired up, rolling the cuffs up on his shirt, which he always did when he got angry. I didn’t think he was going to punch me, that’s just what he did. He just went mental. Effing and blinding and calling me all sorts of names. He just blew it.

  I just kept my mouth shut because he is the manager, so you have to take it but in my head I was saying ‘this man is talking so much rubbish, he best keep quiet’. He is the man in charge. But the clock was ticking and I was thinking ‘if he doesn’t shut up, I’m going to punch him’. It went on and on. ‘God help me,’ I said to myself, ‘this man is pushing the boundaries, I would like to see him try and hit me – let’s see who wins’.

  I obviously never would’ve done but every player at some point has thought the same thing. If they say they haven’t then they’re lying. Thinking something and doing something are two separate things though and I had no problems with his approach. He’s got more experience in the game than me so who was I to argue?

  Gary used to love a shout but he would back down if somebody gave it to him in return. Kevin Nolan was one who used to scream back just as loud as Gary when he felt it was justified. It was a noisy and opinionated dressing room full of big characters.

  One of the biggest I’ve met is El-Hadji Diouf. Boy that man can play. He is a serious player – but also a nutcase! I first met him at the training ground. I stuck out my hand and introduced myself and he just grinned, dressed in his loud clothes with a massive gold chain dangling off him. “El-Hadji Diouf,” he said, “the best player in the team.” I remember thinking: ‘why would you say that?’ but he backed it up on the training ground. He never gave the ball away. I’ve seen a lot of good players but he is different. “I’m the best player on this
pitch,” he used to shout when we were training. The other guys used to roll their eyes and say “it’s just Dioufy!”

  Me and Ricardo Gardner also became very good mates quite quickly. He was a very loyal Bolton player. Ricardo used to play Jamaican music all the time and I loved that stuff, so we bonded.

  I joined Bolton at the same time as Johan Elmander. He cost about £11m from Toulouse and was immediately under pressure because of the transfer fee. He had vision, energy and desire to burn but the goals just wouldn’t come for him at first, although that changed later on.

  Bolton’s side was full of men who wanted to do well for the team. Matty Taylor was a good talker on the pitch, constantly telling me where I should be, while Gary Cahill was like me, quiet, but he led by example. I hope he gets to captain England one day.

  They were all really good lads and they also knew how to have a good time, which is so important in building team spirit.

  It was never anything too crazy but team nights out were always fun. We used to go out in Manchester and Kev would be the leader. If we had a few days off and we could go for a beer we would do.

  One Christmas we went to Dublin for a party. It was a great, different experience. We flew from Manchester on a Saturday, the whole squad, stayed in the city centre and then flew back on a Monday. That’s about the only thing I can remember, the rest is a blur!

  We had a great time. My only one hazy memory is that I had my first – and last – pint of Guinness. We were in a pub and Jlloyd Samuel walked over, grinning, and said: “Come on, you have to drink it.” I don’t drink much anyway and, oh my God, what is that stuff? I’ve never tried it since and I won’t be doing so either. It has nothing good about it! They won’t be sponsoring me in the future, that’s for sure. I like Malibu and coke and drinks like that. On that trip we certainly had a few.

  God, I was rough when we got back. We didn’t have to return to training until the Wednesday as the gaffer decided to give us another day to recover – and we needed it. I lay in bed for two days, sleeping and drinking as much water as I could. I needed to get myself together. I crawled to McDonald’s for some large fries before going back to bed. It was a funny experience but a one-off. We knew when we had to put in the hard work and were extremely disciplined at the right times.

  One of my favourite memories at Bolton is when Joshua was born. Bolton were playing so I couldn’t hang around too long at the hospital in Birmingham. The next day I drove to the Reebok as high as a kite and told the guys what had happened.

  Kevin Nolan, Ricardo Gardner, Andy O’Brien and Kevin Davies all knew what was going on and how complicated everything was but at that moment in time the only thing that mattered was that I was a dad. Big smiles and big handshakes were the order of the day.

  “Make sure you do well for the little man,” Kevin Nolan said, with a big grin on his face and we certainly did that. On the pitch that afternoon I felt I was three times the man I had been, especially as we beat Manchester City 2-0!

  #####

  The change in pad position works. Kind of. My heart starts firing again but not in a good way.

  I’ve got a ventricular tachycardia, which is a clever way of saying it’s beating way too fast; so fast in fact that it looks as if it’s just twitching and shuddering because it’s banging so quickly. That is not really any better than where I was before because although my heart is going it’s still not doing anything to pump blood around my body.

  A fast heart rate doesn’t mean anything unless your heart pumps blood at the same time.

  Mine isn’t. From a medical point of view I might as well still be on the pitch. All this concern, all this amazing hard work, all the prayers I’m already receiving.

  All of it is going to waste.

  All the guys around me know I’m slipping away.

  All of Britain has started praying for me.

  All of me inches towards the end.

  #####

  When Kevin Nolan spoke, we listened. Kevin’s attitude was that he was always our leader. He was so determined to succeed and set a great example. As a young player you need a guy who will speak to you like that. When I went to Bolton I realised this was a different ball game. The whole structure of the club, the way it was run, the demands of me in games and in training: I knew it was time to step up and Kevin helped me do that.

  That’s why we were all shocked when he was sold to Newcastle United. We had lost a big character and our captain.

  It all happened so quickly. It was January, 2009. We went to training one morning and Kevin left pretty swiftly but I didn’t think much of it.

  When I got home, I dropped my car keys on the table, turned on Sky Sports News and it was announcing that he had gone. He might have said something to the other guys but he said nothing to me. I tried to call him but couldn’t get hold of him, although he sent me a text saying ‘it was for football reasons’.

  I was just a young player and I didn’t know what was going on upstairs, so I was confused. Why were we selling our captain? The other players felt the same.

  When Kevin Nolan left, Kevin Davies became the main leader. They are two different characters. Nolan is outspoken and bubbly and will always speak his mind and although Davies does that as well he is bit quieter. He prefers to lead by example, which he has always done. The man is a Bolton legend.

  #####

  Owen and Kevin sit in the back seat of a marked police car, quietly impressed at how quickly they’re getting across London. The lights are on and the guy in the front is flying. The two of them left the dressing room and Owen grabbed the most senior officer he could find and told him that he needed to go wherever I was going.

  The officer does a wonderful job in rustling up a car in no time at all and Owen curses himself for not getting his name so he can thank him later. Because the stadium is emptying, the car cannot pull up to the front of White Hart Lane so the gaffer and Kevin walk out of the entrance and round to the side. They try and squeeze their way through the crowd and it doesn’t take long before they’re inevitably spotted by stunned Spurs fans leaving in silence.

  As Owen and Kevin approach their ride, all they can hear is hundreds of fans shouting to them. “Good luck,” says one. “We’re praying for you,” goes another.

  And Owen is again struck by how amazing football fans can be when it really matters.

  #####

  After finishing 13th in the 2008-09 season, we made a reasonable start to the new campaign, only narrowly losing to Manchester United and Liverpool. Then, at the end of October, we started to go downhill. We really struggled.

  I began to think Gary’s days were numbered just after Christmas when we drew 2-2 against Hull City at home after being 2-0 up. We got booed off the park that night and that is a horrible feeling. The dressing room afterwards was not a good place.

  The lads were so down. As I walked off I knew that something was going to happen. Sure enough, the day after the Hull game, the club made the announcement that Gary was leaving.

  Ultimately, Gary left because we just couldn’t fire as a team. We had no consistency. When you are doing badly and fighting relegation, you are just always under pressure. You can never escape from it – it’s in your head every waking moment. The media scrutiny is always there.

  I didn’t hear it personally that he had gone. Two mates tried to message my Blackberry asking me if he had left and I didn’t know – it turns out they knew before I did. I then chased it up and found out. Players should be informed about these things but, again, we’re just employees so a club can do what they want. You often don’t get much information as a player. Play football and behave yourself, they’re the only rules.

  When a manager leaves a club it makes life very strange for a while. It’s like a car that’s lost its driver. And what happens if your car’s not got a driver? It crashes. Plus, when you are training and there is no gaffer then everyone slackens a little bit. I don’t care what anyone says, you don’t train as har
d when you know there’s no manager around to keep you in line. It was different in many ways – training was good but not as strict as it would have been if Gary was there.

  The whole club started wondering what the next move was. We would sit in training and think: ‘What is happening, who is going to lead the club?’ The players didn’t know what was going on. I used to go home after training and wonder who was going to replace Gary but I didn’t think it was my place to go and knock on Mr Gartside’s door and ask him. Football doesn’t work like that.

  We started to hear the rumours about Owen Coyle coming in because of the job he had done at Burnley and it helped that he was a former Bolton player. He did a very good job at Burnley, who had just been promoted to the Premier League and he was appointed in January, 2010.

  When he arrived, he came into the Reebok dressing room looking sharp in a suit. He was very positive and bubbly. He shook all our hands and went around the dressing room introducing himself. He knew all our names, which was impressive. Some of the guys’ names I struggled to remember, never mind the new boss! He elaborated on his plans for the future and where he wanted the football club to go. He said he wanted us to be free flowing and more positive on the pitch.

  Owen is a man who misses football, misses being out on the pitch and playing 90 minutes every weekend. He used to love taking part in training. It’s very much his style to get involved with his players and he was unlike any other manager I’ve known in that way. Arsene used to let us get on with it; Steve only got involved in the Young v Old match on a Friday; Alex loved tactics but wouldn’t really play and Gary didn’t much either. Owen was far different but although he would act like one of the boys at times, we all understood the boundaries. We respected him and he was our manager, not our friend.

  We picked up a few more wins with Owen in charge and ended up finishing 14th in 2009-10. At the end of the season I signed a four-year extension. I had had a clause in my earlier contract that stated if I played 50 games for the first team it would trigger a new deal. I got to that landmark, the club were happy with me and I was happy with them. I was feeling like a Premier League player by now – it felt like the stage I belonged on. I knew I’d played well and deserved the new deal.