Fabrice Muamba: I'm Still Standing Read online

  Again, Professor Schilling hit me with it nice and clearly and told me that I could never play football. There were no half-answers or half-queries. It was over.

  That should have been good enough for me. But it wasn’t. What if there was a tiny, tiny chance I could fight against the odds again and return? I decided to head for a second opinion.

  It was a decision that had absolutely nothing against those in London who had saved my life.

  Professor Schilling is a man I have nothing but the highest respect for but I just needed another voice, another person telling me it was useless. It was nothing personal. When you’ve done nothing but love playing football for as long as I have, then it felt right to get more advice.

  So, on April 28, I travelled to Belgium with Dr Tobin to see Dr Pedro Brugada, a man with plenty of experience in treating what I’d been through.

  Dr Brugada had fitted Belgium Under-23 international Anthony Van Loo with an ICD in 2008 and he had managed to start playing again. The ICD even kicked in one day when he collapsed as he was playing for SV Roeselare. Go and watch it on YouTube. The ICD jolts him back to life and he sits up straight away. I couldn’t help but think maybe I could get the same sort of treatment, be given the same sort of chance.

  All my notes were taken over to Belgium so Dr Brugada had all the information he needed. I had loads of tests as they tried to stimulate my heart to see how it would react. And when they did that they found a new problem. Basically, the electrical flow of your heart goes down certain channels which start at the top and move towards the bottom and branch out. But my electrical signals weren’t quite following the right path, so a small operation was planned to fix that.

  It was nothing to really worry about but maybe it was a sign that it really didn’t look good as far as resuming my career was concerned. However, Dr Brugada wouldn’t tell me on the day if it was all over, so I returned home with some small hope that I might be able to return. Dr Brugada wanted me to come back for a second opinion later in the year, even if Shauna and Dr Tobin believed it was not going to change anything. But hope can make your brain play tricks on you and I wouldn’t give up on the idea of playing again. However, that was soon dashed in the second meeting. I returned to Belgium with Shauna and Dr Tobin for the small procedure needed to fix my pathway problem and also a final yes or no on my future.

  Before I got the bad news, Dr Brugada and his team tried to identify the pathway problem with my heart but it had somehow cleared itself up. They stimulated my heart to try and find it but in the end they gave up. So what should have been a minor operation turned into a minor nothing.

  More heart tests were done and I was kept in overnight. I woke up wondering what the day would bring. Even though my test results were better and my heart was strengthening itself, you don’t go through what I went through without paying a price.

  And, as expected, that price was my career.

  It was a no.

  It was always a no. I just needed to hear it again.

  As it turns out, Professor Schilling’s initial view that my heart didn’t have the strength to cope with playing football was absolutely spot on.

  In Dr Brugada’s office he talked me through it step-by-step and explained why I no longer needed the small operation. But he then came out with it straight to leave me in absolutely no doubt. “You won’t ever be able to play football again,” he said.

  “It’s not just the risk of you having another cardiac arrest, your heart suffered so much damage in those 78 minutes that it cannot ever function at the level needed to play football.”

  I asked a few questions but I heard nothing I didn’t expect or didn’t know already. Dr Brugada and Dr Tobin left the room. Dr Tobin had to get back for Bolton’s friendly with Barcelona ‘B’ that night, and I was ok with it. What can you do? I tried to be upbeat and ok. It was better to know, once and for all, what my future did and didn’t contain.

  Before leaving the room, Dr Brugada shook my hand and Shauna and I prayed. We then caught a flight home and got on with the rest of our lives.

  #####

  On that flight, I was able to think back about the good times in professional football that I’d experienced. I’d come up against so many great players. Some of them deserve a mention now.

  Who is the greatest player I’ve ever seen? Paul Scholes. End of story. You know how some people have sat navs in their car? Paul Scholes has a sat nav in his head and it’s tuned in to Old Trafford. He is just a hero, unbelievable. He is two minutes ahead of you.

  You can ask any Premier League player and they will all tell you that he is head and shoulders above the rest. All you can do is respect the guy. He doesn’t speak much anyway, never mind on the pitch, so you can’t even wind him up or try and put him off. He knows what he wants to do with the ball before he’s even got it.

  I remember trying to tackle him once and he was gone, past me and away, before my brain had even clicked into gear. What a privilege it has been to face a man like that. And the best thing is that you can feel yourself learning when you’re facing him.

  His team-mate Ryan Giggs is another who I just love as a player. When he is running straight at you all you are thinking is ‘I want to go home!’ – he is that good. This guy is so far ahead of you and so clued up that you’re helpless. He might be a skinny guy and you think ‘I’ll smash him’ but you need to get near him first. And most of the time you can’t lay a finger on him.

  Although Scholes and Giggs don’t say much on the field that can’t be said of everyone in football. Craig Bellamy is the best for dishing out the verbals. He is an amazing footballer but he seems to need anger to drive him forward. Some players can only motivate themselves when they are fuming and Craig is one of them. I’ve played against him once or twice and I’ve heard him calling the referees some outrageous things! He is a really, really nice guy when he doesn’t have his boots on but when he is on the pitch he is Mr Angry, and a very good player. He demands nothing but the best from his team-mates. He stands up for whatever team he plays for – he never hides and doesn’t take crap from anybody.

  Steven Gerrard is another leader. He is so quick and such a great athlete, he is like a horse. When he takes off, oh my God...When he performs there is nobody who can touch him. He can ping the ball serious distances. And I mean really ping the ball. When we played at Anfield on Boxing Day, 2008, Gary Megson made me try and man-mark Gerrard. What? Who does that? I was fit enough for the job and tried to stay with him but he was just too good. When he took off I thought ‘Oh, Jesus!’ and I just had to do my best. Everywhere he went, I went. I was his shadow.

  And how did it go? Not very well, let’s put it like that.

  He started in midfield but then went up front so I followed him there. That then meant we had five at the back which opened up space in midfield for Xabi Alonso to do what he wanted. Gerrard knew exactly what he was doing; he is a very smart, very clever player.

  Footballers sometimes don’t get the credit they deserve for intelligence they’ve got out on the pitch. It takes a different kind of clever when that whistle blows. Players like Gerrard can run a game and smell trouble a mile off. I don’t know him as a person but as a footballer the vibe you get is that he is very dedicated and driven. He wants to do nothing but win medals for Liverpool – I respect his loyalty and commitment.

  Another player I used to always know I was in a game with is Lee Cattermole at Sunderland. That boy loves a tackle. He loves getting stuck in – bang, bang, bang! He was born that way and really enjoys it, which is just how it should be.

  Then there is Didier Drogba. He is unplayable. On my very first game in the Premier League, when we lost at Stamford Bridge, Steve Bruce put a teamsheet up before the game and invited me to look at it. There’s my name and I’m down to mark Didier Drogba at corners. He was on the bench that day but I was still terrified. I thought to myself ‘is Steve on drugs?’ He just grinned, knew what I was thinking and said: “Yeah, that’s yo
ur job today.” I thought he’d gone crazy!

  On his day Didier really has the wow factor, just like Claude Makelele, Michael Ballack and Michael Essien. Chelsea have had so many amazing midfielders over the past few years. After playing them you just go home and try to work out how to improve and be better next time. After I first played against Ballack, I went home thinking ‘how can he be that good?’ It makes you realise just how tough football is.

  Essien is an all-round footballer and an absolute powerhouse. About as complete a player as you can be. He can tackle, run, and do the lot. When you are in the Premier League you’re there on merit and you just have to try your best. He was playing in my first Premier League match, too, so not only did I have Drogba to deal with but I had Essien powering past me.

  Makelele was another ‘machine’ and a guy who took the holding midfield role to another level. When we played Chelsea at home that season I was speaking in French on the pitch when we were defending a corner. It’s as noisy as anything and we’re all trying to get organised when before you know it Makelele looks at me and, speaking in French, goes: “Where are you from?” I told him I was from Congo and he was delighted. “Are you really? As in Kinshasa, Congo? Wow, it’s nice to meet you!” All this is going on as the chaos of the Premier League unfolded around us.

  After the game I was getting changed when I was summoned into the Chelsea dressing room. One of their backroom staff came in and said “Claude wants a word.” Uh-oh, I’ve been summoned. I walked into their dressing room and sat next to him – me in my shirt, him in his playing shorts and nothing else.

  “Nice to meet you properly,” he said. He then gave me his playing shirt and plenty of advice about life at the very top. It was a nice touch from a good man.

  “You try really hard,” he said.

  “Thanks,” I replied. “I’ve got no choice but to.”

  We shared a few laughs and jokes and it was a good experience. I was very humbled to see a man from the Congo who had gone that far. One day that could be me, or so I hoped.

  So many great memories, so many great players.

  #####

  When I was in hospital recovering, I had a crazy dream. There is a Tesco Express in Wilmslow, near my house, and I dreamt that I strolled in there, without a care in the world, and filled in a Lotto ticket nice and slowly.

  I returned home, turned the TV on and watched as my numbers rolled in one by one. To the tune of £150m – and I still remember the numbers! I can’t tell you what they are but when I win it one day I will prove that the dream was for real. I’ve got those six lucky numbers written down in a secret place. Let’s wait and see what happens.

  I also told Shauna I’d won big.

  “Shut up,” she said. “What drugs are they giving you in here?” She asked me what the numbers were.

  “You must be joking!” I replied. “Nobody finds out what they are. I’ll win it and then I’ll share it with you!”

  Some people might think I’ve used up a lifetime’s worth of luck already but I personally don’t believe in the word ‘luck’. It’s not part of my vocabulary. There is no such word. The word I prefer is ‘blessed’. Because that’s how I feel.

  I’ll be honest – not going into training, not hearing the chat in the dressing room or running out to play at the weekend does still feel strange and frustrating from time to time but it’s just a case of readjusting and refocusing on what matters.

  I know I could go up to Bolton’s training ground all day every day if I wanted to and the boys would make me as welcome as can be. But I’m not a player anymore so that’s not for me. I owe Bolton everything but I can’t be getting in the way while the boys train or anything like that. I have to move my focus on and do other things.

  When I do get those twinges of regret about having to give up football I simply look at Shauna or Josh, or both of them, and remember that I’m breathing.

  There’s no need to cry about my retirement. As long as I can breathe and walk, what more do I want to be able to do? God is with me and that’s what counts. I have an inner strength that helps me to deal with disappointments in life. That strength comes from my faith.

  From a very young age, my mum took us to a Christian church not far from my house. It was a Pentecostal church. It was a must for the family, we just had to go and I grew up in a Christian house that was very respectful of God. I prayed every night with mum and dad. We prayed for strength and safety and a peaceful life. Christianity for me is the biggest factor in my life in every way you can think of.

  Christmas in Congo is very different to life in England. There we celebrate the birth of Christ and it is like a big party, everybody has fun, the whole street gets together for a big feast. Chicken, rice, peas, plantain, you name it, and Christ is the centre of all the attention. In England it’s not quite the same, people aren’t as religious and that’s absolutely fine. Every country is different and you have to respect each other’s different ways and customs.

  It’s the same with New Year. In Congo, almost everyone spends New Year’s Eve in church because they want to start the new year praising God. In the UK most people spend it in the pub! Different people, different attitudes. I personally go to church on New Year’s Eve with the family to pray that next year will be better than this year and that what stopped me this year won’t stop me over the next 12 months.

  My faith in God gives me inner peace, I serve him and he’s the person who can provide all my needs and wishes. I pray to a God who will never change; he will always be powerful, awesome and a guide to my life. He is the driver of my car – I’m just the passenger. When dad left we relied on God even more to keep him safe where he was and us safe where we were. The fact we all survived all the killings and trouble in the Congo proved that He was listening and answered our prayers.

  I enjoyed being a footballer. I loved it in fact. But life goes on. I was past that. I am past that. We put a statement out in August after my second meeting with Dr Brugada and all I could do was thank everybody for their support. I didn’t want anyone being upset.

  Football lasts 90 minutes but my family lasts all day, every day. I’m the luckiest guy I know. Apart from anything, I’ve not had time to get too upset because life has gone absolutely crazy.

  So crazy that you just would not believe it...

  #18

  All Together Now

  I WAS in hospital from March 17 to April 16 and in the space of a month my life became unrecognisable. I used to get spotted every now and again because I was a footballer but this? This was something completely off the scale.

  The reaction to it all was so overwhelming and bigger than anything I could ever have imagined. In hospital I’d only picked up a tiny bit of what was going on outside the four walls of my room.

  Shauna would laugh and tell me that the world had changed and Rashid would also come in and let me know that, overnight, my story had become the biggest one out there.

  “Fab,” Rashid would say. “You’ve become massive. You’re trending on Twitter!”

  I didn’t have a clue what he was on about and I wasn’t allowed my phone so I couldn’t get any real access to the outside world. So there I am lying in a hospital bed, apparently at the centre of the biggest sports story in years, and I had no idea whatsoever.

  My comedian friend Eddie Kadi came in to see me one day, sat on the edge of my bed and told me that everyone was going crazy for Fabrice. What? I was just a regular Premier League player one minute and now all this had happened. It was a lot to take. It wasn’t until I picked up my phone afterwards and started scrolling through my messages that I got a sense of how massive this had become. 250 texts, 250 emails. Wow! All these people trying to ask me how I was and whether there was anything I needed.

  It took me about two hours to go through everything and see how many good luck messages I had, how many prayers had been said in my name and also how many new Twitter followers I had! Wow! My life had exploded onto centre stage and I
wasn’t around to see it. I remember sitting with Shauna at home, trying to get my head around it, and she just grinned and said “I told you so.” She wasn’t wrong.

  About a week after being released from hospital we decided to go and watch a late film at the cinema inside the Trafford Centre. Until then, I’d not really been out much, so I had no idea what the public really thought of me.

  Me and Shauna were walking hand in hand through the Trafford Centre, minding our own business, when all of a sudden this huge bear of a man I didn’t know came up and hugged me, completely out of the blue.

  He just arrived from nowhere and tried to pick me up, squeezing me tight and shouting: “I’m so glad you’re ok mate, I’m so glad.” It was so strange but such a lovely moment. Shauna just stood next to me and said “didn’t I tell you? Life is different now.”

  There have been plenty of moments like that and each and every one of them is a joy, even if it can be a bit frightening when people just walk up to you and hug you!

  The response from the footballing world has also reduced me to tears at times and I cannot thank people enough for taking the time to wish me well.

  When Bolton played Blackburn at the Reebok in the first game after my collapse the fans in the Nat Lofthouse Stand made the mosaic ‘MUAMBA 6’ out of cards they were holding and both sets of players wore ‘MUAMBA 6’ training shirts before the game. How can you not be moved and humbled by that? I was still in hospital at the time as it was only a week after the incident and I didn’t really have much of clue what was going on.

  Looking back on it now just makes me so thankful and proud. How can you look at the way the football world responded and not think it is the greatest sport in the world? Unfortunately for me, it took a cardiac arrest to underline how special football can be but it has all been worth it.

  All over the world the game united to show how big its heart is. My old team-mate Gary Cahill was one of the first, wearing a ‘Pray 4 Muamba’ t-shirt under his Chelsea kit while the likes of Barcelona, Real Madrid and Arsenal also wore shirts with my name on them.