Fabrice Muamba: I'm Still Standing Read online

  When it really mattered the worldwide football family pulled together like no other, and I will never be able to thank everyone for their support.

  I wish I could go to every single club that supported me and shake the hands of the managers, players and chairmen who showed that much generosity.

  There have been a few amazing moments that stand out. One is when I went back to the Reebok for the match between Bolton and Spurs and the second time was when ‘The Special One’ Jose Mourinho, stopped me in a corridor to tell me he’d been praying for me. Can you imagine that? It is moments like this which sum up how random my life has become.

  It happened like this. Shauna, Joshua and me were in Jamaica in early June, catching some sun and slowly chilling out and recuperating. It was a break we all needed but it was about to end in the greatest way possible.

  I was lying on the beach messing around with Joshua, thinking just how great it was to be alive and well, when Shauna told me to pack my bags. “What?” I said.

  “You need to catch a flight to Spain,” she said. “Real Madrid have been in touch. I’ve just had an email and they want you to kick off a game on Sunday between Real Madrid legends and Manchester United legends.”

  “Whatever, Shauna,” I replied, not sure about what she was really saying. “Which legends?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Some guy called Zidane is playing.”

  Ha ha, this was the best joke ever. “So, Shauna, you’re trying to tell me that Real Madrid want to fly me all the way from Jamaica to Spain just to start a charity game?”

  “Yes,” she said. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  I swore! And then I saw the list of people playing and I swore even more! Wow! Two sides full of complete and utter greats.

  I was just so stunned. This was the Friday so I had to move fast. I threw some stuff in a case, caught a flight from Jamaica to Miami and then Miami to Madrid. By the time I got back to Europe it was the early hours of Sunday morning so I went straight to bed to try and shrug off any jetlag.

  I walked down to reception after my sleep and I bumped straight into a host of United legends. Bryan Robson, Teddy Sheringham, Dwight Yorke and Andy Cole. I’d already been in touch with Coley to tell him I’d be in Madrid that night and it was great to catch up with him.

  Everyone was great with me. Andy shook my hand and introduced me to all the other guys. It was a wonderful life experience. They all asked me how my health was, how the family was and what my plans were for the future. I felt so pleased and humbled to be in the presence of such guys. My playing career might have ended but would I have had moments like this if I hadn’t collapsed? I doubted it then and I doubt it now.

  The hotel we stayed at was only two minutes from the Santiago Bernabeu so we got to the ground very early and I got the full stadium tour before being taken to meet the club president Florentino Perez in his super-VIP suite. He took me by the arm, shook my hand and told me to stay strong. He knew how I was feeling because his wife Pitina had died of a heart attack just before my visit.

  “I know what you’re going through” he said, his voice as steady as a rock. “My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family.”

  That was an incredible moment from a man in mourning and a glimpse behind the scenes and a glimpse at the decency of people in the game.

  As I walked out of the suite to prepare for my kick-off duties, the day got even more surreal when Mourinho bumped into me as I headed to see where my seat was. He was walking past me and said: “Fabrice?”

  I was amazed he even knew who I was!

  He looked as slick as always in a suit and tie and shook my hand.

  “How are you?” he said. “It’s so great to see you. You had us all praying hard for you.”

  “It’s nice to see you, too, Mr Mourinho,” I replied, pretty sure I was now in some sort of dream.

  “I hope everything is ok for you from now on,” he said. “If you ever want to come to Madrid to watch us then you are welcome to come any time you want.”

  He shook my hand again and left. That was another lovely gesture in a day full of them. Two hours before the match I was taken downstairs into the bottom of the stadium to meet the players from both teams. A club official took me down in a lift and I was so nervous. I was getting the chance of a lifetime. I might have been a professional footballer but don’t forget I’m a fan first. Any person offered that chance should be very excited. When the lift pinged open I walked down and turned to my left and then turned left again into the Real Madrid dressing room.

  “Fabrice?” someone shouted from the far side of the room. I turned around and there is Zinedine Zidane, already in his matchday kit, shouting “Fabrice, come over here.”

  What was going on? Zidane knows my name? He didn’t know it before I died but he does now. Who cares how or why he knows it – Zidane knows my name! He started talking to me in French, shaking my hand and asking how I was feeling.

  “You’re a very blessed guy,” he said. He wasn’t lying either.

  Fernando Hierro then came over and he was also great with me, asking about my treatment and the family. I could barely take it all in. The dressing rooms alone were unbelievable, never mind the players sat inside them.

  As I’m standing around admiring all the players and trying to absorb the fact that Zidane knows who I am, Luis Figo walks through the door of the changing room, takes one look at me, clicks his fingers and goes “Ah, Fab.”

  I’m not even Fabrice to this guy, I’m Fab! It’s like we’re mates! This is getting ridiculous. From the Congo to being a mate of Zidane and Figo.

  What a ride.

  Did Figo – the Figo – just call me ‘Fab?’ Eh?

  “How are you, my friend?” he said.

  “I’m cool, my friend,” I replied, laughing out loud. What a story. That room probably had about half a billion pounds worth of talent in it. Zidane, Figo, Hierro, Fernando Morientes, Fernando Redondo, Roberto Carlos, I could go on and on and on. It was ridiculous. All the top Madrid heroes – plus me!

  I left the Real dressing room just before the game was about to begin. The players went out first as I waited behind in the tunnel. I was feeling so nervous but really excited until, finally, the stadium announcer mentioned that I was there and summoned me onto the pitch.

  What do you say about the Bernabeu? It is unbelievable. The noise, the height of the stands, the passion and intensity – and this was just a charity game. 80,000 people rose, cheered and clapped when I walked out. It was one of the most emotional moments of my life.

  The referee was the Italian Pierluigi Collina – you know it’s a big game when even the ref is a legend – and he shook my hand, whispered “good luck for the future” into my ear and then invited me to kick off. By this point I was working so hard to keep the tears in. I put the ball on the spot and passed to Zidane.

  That means I can say I played with the great man himself. A truly priceless moment. I got the lift back up to my match seat and I couldn’t find the words to express how I felt or how thankful I was to get the opportunity.

  #####

  The fans of Bolton and Spurs had already given me one night to remember in early May when I went back to the Reebok Stadium for the first time. I’d wanted to go for a while to watch a game and that seemed like the best one to pick because of the two teams involved. I was a special guest of Mr Gartside and the club and I was nervous about what would happen but the reception I got from all the fans at the ground when I arrived soon put me at ease. What can I say? What do you say? I’m lost for words when it comes to trying to express my happiness and love for those who cared for me and those who cried for me – whether they are Bolton fans or not. That night I got out of the car at the front of the stadium and fans were clapping and cheering from the moment I was spotted.

  Nobody had done that at Bolton when I was on the pitch!

  Dean, the player liaison officer, greeted me at the front door. “Good to see
you, little man,” I said with a grin. “And you,” he replied. It was like I’d never been away.

  I went to see Owen and we spoke for a while, both of us grinning big time. He said I could go in and see the boys in the dressing room. It was great to walk in there. Everyone shook my hand and after doing a television interview I met Harry Redknapp as well. “How are you doing?” he asked. “You scared us a bit. It’s great to see you doing so well.” I also met Dr Mughal and Geoff Scott, the two medical guys from Spurs who ran on. How do you thank people for saving your life? What can you say or give or do to repay them? It was overwhelming and a humbling experience to meet those guys.

  Tears were never far from the surface and I couldn’t hold on any more when I walked on to the pitch. Man, the Reebok was rocking that day! The noise was incredible, fans from both sides were clapping and chanting. I applauded all four corners of the ground and tried to hold it together but it was so tough. I will never forget that day, that moment. I came off the pitch and Neil McLeod, my PR agent, and Phil, the club chaplain, took me into a quiet side room and gave me a hug and a chance to catch my breath and try and absorb what had just happened. How often can you say that every single football fan in one ground is delighted to see you there? That is what it was like that day. You could feel the emotion and the special atmosphere. I love winning more than anyone you will ever meet but there are bigger and better things to worry about and those fans that day proved that. It made me cry then and it can make me emotional now.

  No thanks will ever be enough.

  Another great experience was the Football Writers’ Association awards in London the day after the match. Matt Dickinson from The Times got in touch and invited me along. It was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.

  Me and Shauna travelled to London and the day was unbelievable from start to finish. First of all, a woman came up to me in the street and started holding my face in the palms of her hands. “I just want to touch you, I just want to touch you,” she said. She was one of thousands who’ve shaken my hand, hugged me, asked for a photo or a smile.

  “I want to touch the miracle,” she continued. I’ve gone from wearing the number six shirt for Bolton to becoming a ‘miracle’ have I? Wow. I couldn’t get used to all this attention.

  We then went in to Selfridges to buy Shauna a dress for the event that night and as I passed my card over the counter, the guy took two looks at my name and went “it’s you!”

  Next thing we know we’re being swept upstairs into a private suite where we were offered champagne and canapés. Nothing was too much. Everybody just wanted to smile and say hi and shake my hand.

  Nobody had to do that for us. Selfridges didn’t ask or want anything in return. It was just another example of how amazing people really are. There have been so many other instances that show how much people care. And I mean that.

  At the awards that night I kept nice and low key until they announced that I was there so I stood up and waved. There was a real genuine gasp from everywhere in the room before Robin van Persie came down from the top table and gave me a hug.

  “Great to see you,” he whispered. “We’re all so pleased you’re ok.” There I am, in a room full of journalists and I couldn’t hear myself think. There were laughs and cheers and tears being shed by more than a few people and I wasn’t far behind. Afterwards I shook a million hands and heard a million stories about who was where when I collapsed, what they thought, how they felt. I got nothing but positive vibes from everyone and as I looked around the room I thought to myself: ‘My God. I’m not the Fabrice I was a month ago.’

  There have been so many memories already. For example, I was meeting Warwick one day in London and had to get a cab from Euston to Warwick’s offices. All of a sudden the taxi driver started talking about people who had died suddenly and I told him that it had happened to me.

  “What?” he said. “Yeah, it happened to me. I had a cardiac arrest but managed to survive.” “Are you that Muamba guy?” he asked and when I told him I was he went crazy. He slammed the brakes on and went: “Really? Wow. Listen mate, I’ll take you for free now. You’re one hell of a fighter so don’t worry about paying.” He was a proper Cockney guy with a big smile and he wouldn’t shut up once he found out it was me. He told me he wanted a picture and that his kids wouldn’t believe him. I kept trying to pay him but he wouldn’t listen. I was so overwhelmed by his response. What can you do but say thank you? We pulled up and he jumped out and we had a picture before he hugged me. Incredible.

  Loads of little things have changed – even going to Tesco. I used to go and mind my own business but the first time I went in afterwards somebody recognised me and before we knew it the manager came over and told us how great it was to meet me and that if I needed any help then to shout up.

  Then, in June, me and my mates went out in London one night to a club called Bond. We just wanted a good laugh and to catch up and relax. Everything was chilled out and we were having a quiet night until I was spotted. “Are you Fabrice?” someone asked. “Yes, I am,” I said.

  All of a sudden everybody was at our table, trying to buy us drinks, taking pictures and hugging me. I wasn’t drinking so I was turning down all these kind offers but it was so great and so nice to see this response from complete strangers. Some were saying that they had been praying for me. What can you say to that? Wow. It’s just been a great journey.

  At the end of the season, me and Shauna also went to the FA Cup final between Liverpool and Chelsea. We sat in the corporate section where I was introduced to the crowd so I had to stand up and wave. About five seconds later, Gerard Houllier, the former Liverpool and Aston Villa manager who has also had heart trouble, came over to speak to me. We spoke in French and compared medical problems and had a joke. “When you have time, come to France and we can catch up,” he said. “Take care.”

  Liverpool owner John Henry also said hello. He was great as well, praising me for fighting back and looking so healthy.

  I couldn’t stop grinning about being surrounded by all these people. I suppose even millionaires and important people are still human beings underneath it all and want to see others being happy and healthy.

  Nothing negative has come from this. I think some idiot got into trouble on Twitter for wishing me dead or something like that but who is he? Who cares? I’ve got the whole country in my corner, I can cope with the odd loser here and there.

  I’ve still got four massive boxes of letters and emails from people wishing me well. Phil Mason gave them to me and they’re sat in my office. There are so many of them, including one amazing letter from kids in Ghana telling me they were praying for me. I’ve never even been to Ghana and a school wrote to let me know they wanted me to get better. That shows how many people were aware of my story and were praying for my recovery. I believe I’m a good person and I’m someone who has lived a good life. When you do that then good things head back in your direction.

  I can’t begin to describe all the cool stuff that has happened but I’ve got to mention the ‘Britain’s Got Talent’ final I went to with Shauna. What a crazy night that was!

  We got the invite and jumped at the chance. It was a night on the town in London and a chance to see yet another side of life. We booked a room in The Mayfair Hotel and when we checked in they told us they had upgraded us to a suite. Again, nobody asked for this. It was just the kind of generosity that has followed me about since everything happened. I felt so embarrassed about accepting the offer because I think you should always work for what you get in life but they insisted. We played it nice and cool as we walked up to this massive suite, we were shown around it and nodded respectfully. And then we closed the door and burst out laughing at it all. Wow. Life had become so random in no time at all. All this? For me? For real?

  After the show I asked if I could meet Simon Cowell and one of his assistants told me “we’ll do our best, he’s a busy man.” But eventually I was taken backstage and his dressing room door wa
s open. “Fabrice!” he said, before shaking my hand. He invited me in and we spoke for a bit about my health and the future. I also met Pudsey, the dog that actually won the final. What do you say though? What can you say? It’s a dog!

  #####

  As a Congo boy who grew up in London, it was amazing to see what the Olympics did to change the place and the area I know well.

  I was the same as everyone else over the summer and I couldn’t stop buzzing about how incredible Team GB were and how the whole of London and the country united behind it. It was awesome and very humbling to be involved in a small way.

  First of all, on July 20, I was asked to run with the Olympic torch through my home London borough of Waltham Forest. The organisers got in touch with Neil and everyone thought it was a great idea – who would turn down a chance like that? I’ve still got the torch in the garage and I’m trying to find a frame to stick it in. It has become one of my proudest possessions and a reminder of how lucky I’ve become.

  In early August, just as the Olympics were really firing, I also appeared on Piers Morgan’s show on CNN. He was over from America for the Olympics and is a massive Arsenal fan. Aren’t we all? We met in Bow and he was great – very friendly and very interested in what had happened. We spoke about Arsenal and Arsene and everything else and I also revealed that I’d been back on a football pitch since my collapse when I played in Dubai.

  It happened when we went there to spend some time together as a family and get away from everything. I figured that if anyone deserved a holiday after what happened then I did. We stayed at the One&Only hotel and had a great time. We’ve been there about seven times. Joshua loves the weather and it’s a great place for families.

  I was hanging around the pool, sipping orange juice under an umbrella, when a lifeguard came over to me and told me there was a game of football going on around the other side of the hotel. “Shauna, I think I’m going to go and play football, you know,” I said. “I feel fine and some other guys are playing.” Shauna was dangling her feet in the pool, keeping an eye on Joshua and she didn’t really know what to say. “Really? Ok then.” I started walking around to the game and Joshua caught up with me – he wanted to see his daddy in action again.