Fabrice Muamba: I'm Still Standing Read online

  Warwick spoke to Birmingham City who had been relegated from the Premier League and they seemed an ideal fit. It seemed a good challenge on a personal and professional level. I moved out to Birmingham and had to set up my new life. Dad and my step-mum were ok with me going but they wanted me to come back at weekends to see everyone. There was no doubt it would be tough early on. I was a London boy but I soon adapted.

  I met Warwick at Birmingham New Street station and we went to St Andrew’s to sign some paperwork with Karren Brady, who was very welcoming. She looked after me brilliantly when I was there, I have nothing but respect for her. It was all such a whirlwind.

  The next day we trained at the stadium and I met all the players, along with the manager Steve Bruce. I really enjoyed working with Steve. He just knew straight away how to work with me. On the training ground his face used to go so red – bright, bright red – when he was trying to get his point across but he always managed to do it.

  Steve was a great man and a great character to play for. Friday was Steve’s day, Steve’s time to shine, to show us he was still a player. He used to milk it and never took it too seriously.

  As we left on a Thursday he would announce which player he was going to be in the Young v Old game the next day. “Fab, son, I’m going to be Cantona,” he’d say, running his fingers through his hair. “Either Cantona or George Best. I’ve not made my mind up yet.” He’d be Cantona or Maradona or Pele or one of the greats. He used to put himself out there for us to laugh at and laugh with. That’s what being a manager is about in my opinion – being relaxed and making it enjoyable for the guys.

  Steve used to run about for about five minutes and that was it – then he’d just stand up front for the rest of the session, catching his breath. “This is what top strikers do,” he’d shout. “I’m in the right position.” Friday was only a light day so it was always fun. You could tell Steve had played a lot of football. He still had a good touch and you just knew he had been a player.

  At one stage, Steve asked me if I knew anyone who he should go for at Arsenal who wasn’t playing in the first team regularly. I jumped at the chance to mention Nicklas and Seb Larsson and they soon joined me in Birmingham.

  Nicklas was an instant hit because he scored in his first game and Seb also did a good job. On the flip side to that, I spent the first month on the sidelines and I got so frustrated. I started to regret going there. I can throw a tantrum when I don’t play and I threw a real one here. But Steve calmed me down and promised me that my time would come – and it did.

  I eventually settled into the first team and I ended up loving the 2006-07 season. I just made tackle after tackle and the fans took to me, which was great. They even made up a song about me that still makes me laugh my head off: ‘MUAMBA, WHOOOAH, MUAMBA, WHOOOAH, HE WAS A REFUGEE AND NOW HE’S QUALITY’. Ha ha, I loved that! Don’t believe it when a player says he doesn’t love hearing his name chanted, it is a great feeling.

  We eventually managed to get back into the Premier League at the first opportunity, finishing second. We topped the table and had a chance to win the title but Sunderland pipped us to it. Steve used me wisely, picking me for a few games and then telling me to disappear for a day or two to recharge my batteries.

  I started going out to nightclubs in Birmingham and because it was a small city, it soon got round that we were lads who enjoyed a good time. I started getting in trouble with girls who heard I was speaking to other girls on the same nights out and all that. They all seemed to know each other! It wasn’t fair and also so confusing. I would take a girl to Nando’s and then her friend would find out and then her friend would find out and so on. It was all too much! I was only drinking a small amount after a Saturday game. We would go to a soul bar and a place called Bambu. We couldn’t be cooped up all weekend, we had to let some steam off some time. A night out is not a crime for the rest of the world and it shouldn’t be for footballers – as long as you respect yourself, others and the boundaries of how to behave properly. Me, Neil Danns and Cameron Jerome all enjoyed going out and having a look around.

  Towards the end of the season, Andy Cole joined us on loan from Portsmouth after Steve decided that we needed some experience during the run-in. I didn’t believe it when I heard he was joining. I walked straight over and shook his hand. “I’m Fabrice, nice to meet you,” I said before starting to really bug him. Man, I bugged him so much! “How was life at United? What was it like to play at Old Trafford all the time?” I couldn’t shut up but he showed me respect and answered me patiently. He is a down-to-earth man, an unbelievable footballer and somebody I have a crazy amount of respect for.

  During that year at Birmingham I even started an Open University course in maths and statistics. You always need a Plan B in life. Nobody at the club would believe me. “You? Whatever, shut up,” was usually the response I got. A lot of the guys saw the smile and my laidback nature and forgot who was underneath. I thought I needed to back myself up in case I needed it, even if I was too busy in the end to finish it.

  We got promoted at Preston North End that season. It was a great feeling. I didn’t play at Deepdale that day but I went on the pitch at the end and the crowd chanted my name. It was fantastic. So emotional.

  #####

  “Let’s go inside, let’s have a chat inside,” Howard says to both managers. He knows the game cannot continue but he needs a quick and quiet conversation to confirm that.

  As we head down the tunnel my stretcher is placed on a trolley as the efforts to revive me continue. The trolley hadn’t been brought onto the pitch as there were concerns it would get stuck in the mud.

  Each side’s club doctor is still running the show and a third shock is administered. Still nothing. I’m being as stubborn as ever.

  In the tunnel the gaffer and Mr Gartside are just two of many bystanders, all trying to get their heads around the fact a young man, at the peak of his life, is dying in front of them.

  Stewards surround the situation, ensuring the guys working on me have the space they need.

  Owen, Harry and Howard head towards the officials’ room and they have a chat in the corridor, Owen straining his neck back towards the tunnel to see if he can still see me as I’m pushed towards the ambulance.

  “Whatever Bolton want to do is absolutely fine by us,” Harry says as he repeats his earlier support. “We understand the situation Owen, we’ll call it off,” Howard replies.

  Owen thanks the pair of them but his mind is elsewhere. He has to dash back to the dressing room to try and get an update, to see how his players are. To see how his player is.

  Dr Tobin is still giving me oxygen and Dr Mughal pounds away at my chest as Peter heads off to the ambulance, making sure its tail-lift is down and its back doors open.

  WHAM!

  Shock number four is received on the tail-lift of the ambulance. Most people are dead and gone by now. I might be dead but I’m not quite gone, thanks to those around me.

  #####

  The support from Birmingham’s fans backed up the decision to leave Arsenal, even though I hoped to return there to continue my career.

  I called that one badly wrong.

  I went back to London during the summer and went in to see Arsene. He was fantastic with me and very honest. He took me in his office, looked me straight in the eye and told me the truth. “I can’t promise you first team football,” he said. “You’re at the stage where you’ve been playing regularly and you’ve been playing ever so well. I can’t guarantee you any chances here because I’ve got too many players.” Fair enough, he was right. He did have a lot of players. “Good luck,” he said.

  We shook hands and I left. It was as straightforward as that. Once the decision was made I was fine with it. I didn’t want to be back in the reserves. First team football gives you a buzz and when it’s taken away nothing matches it. Birmingham had been promoted and I was a fans’ favourite there, so it seemed the right decision to make a full-time move to the Midlan
ds.

  I’m not going to pretend it wasn’t difficult at times because I had supported Arsenal as a boy but that is the way things sometimes turn out. It was hardly life and death. And I think I’m fit to judge matters on that score. It was a case of steering my life in a slightly different direction while always moving forward.

  I couldn’t wait to get started and play in the Premier League. I wanted to play. I wasn’t one of those who wanted to collect money for nothing. Forget that.

  When Birmingham got promoted, the attention started getting serious. All of a sudden we’d go out and there would be media interest and people chatting to you in bars. You have to keep cool and surround yourself with good people. If idiots are telling you that you’re the best thing ever then eventually it’s going to sink in and change you. I made sure I stayed focused, humble and low-key. You never saw me at a perfume opening or a restaurant night. Dad kept me grounded and Rashid also told me the truth about life if I ever needed telling. If you want to be fed bullshit you can be fed it all day. If you want to stay true to yourself then you need to surround yourself with people who will make that the case. Honesty is the most important thing. You need to be kept straight. That leads to a decent, simple life which is uncomplicated. Bullshit leads you into temptation and trouble.

  I moved to Birmingham in a great deal for me that saw my pay rocket to £10,000 a week. For real? Are you actually kidding me? For playing football? Someone pinch me. I also picked up a £2,500 appearance fee and a healthy signing-on deal plus a win bonus.

  Warwick had spoken to Karren, sorted it all out, then rang me and said: “I’ve got the best option for you, trust me – this is a great move.” He then mentioned the money and I think I must’ve almost fainted. A boy from the Congo earning that much? Wow. I went straight to the cash point, stuck my card in and checked my balance. Is this all for real? Yes it was.

  That sort of money bought me my dream car – a Range Rover – but I also did a more important thing, which was send even more cash back home. My Aunt Fifi, mum’s sister, moved from South Africa to Manchester around this time and that gave me a more direct link to mum. It meant contact with her was easier to sort out. I was sending £3,000 a month to make sure she had all she needed. Plus, some Premier League games are shown in the Congo so she was able to see me play, which I hadn’t expected. To speak to her over the phone was great but I started really wanting to see her, to show her that I’d made it. I hadn’t seen her for years by this time. I never told dad about seeing mum, I didn’t want anyone else involved in that – it was my problem to sort out.

  By this point, the girls were really starting to throw themselves at me. It was ridiculous. If you don’t keep your head in that situation, then you can get in trouble quickly but I managed to be ok and steered a pretty smooth path through all of that. Well, almost smooth. I coped by pretending my name was ‘Marcus’ when we went out. That meant nobody hassled me. I had more important things to concentrate on. And that thing was the Premier League.

  We lost on the opening day of the 2007-08 season 3-2 to Chelsea. It was just so humbling to be on the same pitch as Michael Essien, Frank Lampard, Didier Drogba and the rest. I must admit I was scared early on in the game – I was daunted by the occasion. I couldn’t even do my usual trick of banging someone early on because I couldn’t get near them! The speed and the skill involved in the game was like nothing else I had ever experienced. It was a different world and technically a real step up. You have to be sharper mentally and physically.

  Then, with only a few months of the season gone, we lost our manager. I was shocked when Steve went. I don’t know all the details about what happened and I texted him to say that he was one of the main reasons I had signed. He was loved in the dressing room and we wanted him to try and help keep us up. He went to Wigan Athletic and was replaced by Alex McLeish, who had just quit as Scotland boss. He was a good tactician and manager but we just couldn’t seem to get any consistency. Win, draw, win, lose, lose, draw, win, draw and so on. We couldn’t string together enough positive results to ever really get the season going.

  I remember we played Derby County at home in February and were winning with a minute to go and Emanuel Villa scored an equaliser. I remember walking off thinking ‘how did we just let them score?’ We just couldn’t get going or keep a clean sheet.

  As the end of the season got closer and we looked really screwed, we had to go to Villa. We only had four games to go and the pressure was incredible. Birmingham is a pretty small city and everywhere you went in the build-up to the game there would be people letting you have it. I was in a lift in the Bullring shopping centre one day when a fan laid it on the line. “You’ve got to get a point this weekend,” this bloke said. “If you do nothing else, don’t lose.” Everyone from your neighbours to the guy at the petrol station would get on to you to win. I knew the Birmingham/Villa rivalry was big but I didn’t know quite how serious it all was until we were in the deep end.

  The game came around and it was horrible. We got smashed 5-1 and couldn’t get near them. Not only were we humiliated in the local derby but it also took us a step closer to the drop. Horrible. They were better than us in every department and I was as much to blame as anyone. I came up against Gareth Barry that day and he was sharper and better than me. He controlled the midfield and made me chase him. He was very smart. You have days like this in football. I was still very young at this time. He made it look easy while I did the opposite.

  We were 2-0 down at half-time and Alex raised his voice in the dressing room. He demanded that we show more desire and determination. But you can only do as much as you can at times. Villa were just too experienced and too good that day. We went back out for the second half determined to perform and then John Carew scored quite soon after. Bang. Game over. A goal after half-time is an absolute killer. You come out pumped up with the manager’s words in your ears and then it’s like a balloon bursting – you just lose all that motivation in a second.

  After the game I got out of there as quick as I could. I just wanted to hide. Forget the relegation threat, it was the local embarrassment that got to me more. I locked myself in my place trying not to remember the words of one fan I saw on the way out of the stadium. “Muamba, tell them none of you were fit to wear that shirt,” he said. “None of you.” I have no problem taking stick off fans because football is not cheap and fans pay their money and have a right to their opinion.

  I knew at that point that we were in deep trouble. Serious stuff. We played Liverpool next and we should have won. 2-0 up became 2-2. Deeper trouble.

  We then had a massive match against Fulham. They had pulled off an amazing win against Manchester City in their last game which meant they were still – just – in the Premier League, so they were buzzing. It was goalless at half-time and Alex made it clear that a point would be a great result. Get a point here, win our last game and see what happens. He was right, all we needed to do was have a strong defensive performance second half and we leave with a point. Seven minutes after the break Brian McBride scored. That kicked the life out of us and we ended up losing 2-0.

  It meant that, aged just 20, I would be playing in a classic relegation battle. We had to beat Blackburn Rovers on the final day and hope that Reading and Fulham slipped up. We held our part of the bargain. They didn’t.

  We were brilliant that day. A 4-1 win and St Andrew’s was ROCKING. I’ve never heard a noise like it as we walked out for the game. It made you tingle. David Murphy gave us the lead and I thought the stadium would fall down. We had a slight chance of staying up but news soon got around the stadium that Reading were winning against Derby and although we won comfortably in the end thanks to two from Cameron Jerome and an injury-time fourth from me, we also knew that Fulham had beaten Portsmouth. We were down.

  When you get relegated it’s a funny feeling. You’re obviously gutted but your main thought is ‘where could we have got another point, another win, another draw?’

  I
t’s not so much anger as trying to think back to the tiny details that could have added up. That shot you missed, that stupid booking that stopped you from flying in for the rest of the game, that bad clearance that led to a goal. When you’re relegated by just a point it’s the cruellest feeling in the world. You just want to get away. You’ve failed at your job. I would’ve done anything to change what had happened.

  We were finally down and I knew quite quickly that it was time to move on as a player. I loved my time at Birmingham but what fans need to understand is that when you’ve sampled the best league in the world you want more of it. The Premier League is addictive. Players leaving a relegated club aren’t leaving it for the cash, they’re leaving it for the fix they get playing against the best. It is that 90-minute high they chase, not the extra money. I was no different.

  If you go to St Andrew’s now you will still hear my song. I gave my all for the club and it’s nice to be remembered as someone who played hard. Birmingham gave me the opportunity to express myself and to become a proper footballer. I had dedication when I joined the club but no experience. My time there changed all that. I will always be thankful to the club and the way they took a gamble on a young kid who didn’t really know much. Karren and Steve and Alex and everyone there will always be respected by me because of that time. All footballers can point to a period in their life when they can say they grew up on the pitch and my time at St Andrew’s is when it happened to me.

  #####

  Dr Tobin, Dr Deaner, Peter, Paul Moran and Anthony Dorrington all clamber on board the ambulance with me but for now it’s heading nowhere. Anthony is one of the crew and he knows you can’t just throw someone on the back and head off straight away.

  These guys have got work to do, securing my situation, hooking me up to a machine that can monitor oxygen and carbon dioxide levels as well as securing all the drips and equipment safely.

  Trying to do important medical stuff on a rocking ambulance is not easy. It makes far more sense to sort me out in the car park and then get moving once I’m stabilised. Or hopefully stabilised.