"Every day is a miracle," Fabrice Muamba says. "I know people who have gone the same route as me and never came out. I'm no different to any of them. But the big man up there spared my life for me to still be here.”
Yesterday we were given a stark reminder that you could be here one second and gone the next as we saw Danish player Christian Erikson falling to the ground in the EURO 2020 encounter with Finland.
There was the case of what took place March 17, 2012, when Muamba suffered a cardiac arrest in the 41st minute of a televised FA Cup quarter-final clash between Bolton Wanderers and Tottenham Hotspur at White Hart Lane. On that day 30,000 fans in the stadium - and millions of people at home - watched on in disbelief.
Tragic news showcases something beautiful: the sense of unrivalled camaraderie amongst the followers of the beautiful game. We all experienced it yesterday. Such a disheartening story of Muamba’s and Erikson’s is a reminder that these men who showcase their skills and dazzle audiences are indeed only men and can succumb to tragedies, and that in the end, football is just a game but like all sport, is something that can make us stop and think for a moment. We can cast aside football for now and exhibit a sense of solidarity and keep these persons in our prayers.
When Kobe Bryant lost his life, as with any iconic person’s death, people said the tragedy should be a reminder of life’s fragility. That it should be a memento mori, a sign we could be gone at any second. A warning to push us to cherish the important things in life — our family, friends, passions, and beauty of the world — and not to waste energy on inconsequential things. The constant knowledge of how sudden life can end is a tool to energize us into living a better and more clear life.
This reminder is effective because it comes in flashes, often when public icons die. It’s only in those flashes we can truly wrangle with death.
When we accept the truth, we go on to celebrate everything our loved ones, teammates, co-workers of friends did in their short time.
Bryant’s stature added another layer of disbelief to his death. Bryant is someone who is seen as an icon to millions. Great athletes like him and Diego Maradona and now Erikson are rarely ever just athletes, they become symbols, ideas, myths. They’re as immortal as we could be. We can say the same for some of our own such as Brian Lara, Russell Latapy, Dwight Yorke or Kieron Pollard. It's sometimes as if sudden death seems beneath them. Bryant, who was larger than life, dying from a negligible accident. It is incomprehensible. If he, of all people, is vulnerable to that possibility, then the rest of us are even more so.
“Yet Bryant’s death doesn’t bring the concept of sudden death any closer. It is still only possible, but not entirely, real. Bryant died in a helicopter crash. Not many of us will ever find ourselves in that situation. We may walk outside, get in cars, cross the street during traffic, contract Covid and toy with our mortality in more familiar ways than getting into a helicopter, but while we know the potential of sudden death, it’s hardly ever in the forefront of our minds.”
“Willful ignorance of fatal danger is the only way we can go through each day and imagine ourselves in the next one. And when we do lose people we care about suddenly, the celebration of their lives is followed immediately by the greater grief of their extinguished presence. Celebration is only a small comfort. What we are often left with is deep helplessness and sadness.” That is where we stop and take stock of how precious every given moment is.
In 2015 I was blessed with an opportunity to meet and speak with Muamba. He was recovered but would never play the game again. It was one of those conversations that never really leaves you. It may slip from your memory for a bit and then events such as what occurred with Eriksen, run upon you and it takes you back. As Sportbible put it over, "You can see why it would be such a painful experience for someone who was forced to retire at age 24 from a circumstance out of his control but as time has gone on, Muamba has learned how to deal with it.
"I think I was getting to the point [in 2012] where I was going in the right direction in terms of my career," said Muamba, who was given 15 defibrillation shocks in all: two on the pitch, one in the tunnel, 12 in the ambulance. "I was hitting some form and then, boom. That took the plug out of my career. As time goes on, I just appreciate that I'm here. I can spend time with my children and I've lived to see them grow. My health is the number one priority." Indeed, tragic news showcased something beautiful.
EDitor's Note:
Shaun Fuentes is the head of TTFA Media. He is a former FIFA Media Officer at the 2010 FIFA World Cup in South Africa and 2013 FIFA U-20 World Cup in Turkey The views expressed are solely his and not a representation of any organisation. shaunfuentes@yahoo.com