‘I actually played my entire football career with a brain tumor’

By | December 11, 2023

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<p><figcaption class=Photo: Richard Saker/The Guardian

Draw a square. That was all Dominic Matteo had to do. But to complete the seemingly simple task, when pen met paper, Matteo formed a circle.

Their therapist repeated the instructions. His wife Jess lovingly urged him to continue. He drew another circular shape. “I couldn’t do that,” says Matteo. “I was embarrassed. I was very disappointed. I was really struggling at that point. It was very strange.”

Faced with this challenge and having to learn to read, write and speak again, Matteo benefited from the “self-discipline” and “structure” that earned him 276 Premier League appearances for Liverpool, Leeds and Blackburn.

“You really have to focus on what’s in front of you: ‘Right Dom, what can I do to improve my lifestyle?’ And that was doing the hard yards again. It was just like being a young football player; Re-learn this, relearn that. It was scary, difficult and frustrating. But I think I’m lucky that my sport and the way I do it has allowed me to have this success.”

Matteo sits with Jess and reflects on his recovery from surgery for a cancerous brain tumor in November 2019. The day that changed their lives forever began relatively quietly. Matteo had had a headache here, a bout of illness there, but all of that could easily be attributed to other sources.

His doctor referred him for an MRI scan. It was planned to follow a trip to Singapore with Liverpool Legends, but the cancellation opened up pre-flight availability. He took himself to the hospital. Jess attended the dance school she ran.

Football player Matteo had many scans. “Usually it takes a while, but I was there for what felt like a minute,” he says. “They must have seen something right away.” He was not allowed to leave the hospital that Monday night. On Wednesday, he was in a wheelchair, his vision blurry and his face distorted.

Jess takes up the story here; Matteo remembers little of it. He took his parents home when his surgery was scheduled for Friday. But Matteo had a seizure, and Jess vividly remembers the hospital call: “They said: ‘We’re doing everything we can, but you need to get here as quickly as possible.’” Jess’s voice breaks. Matteo holds her hand tenderly. They had dated briefly during his days at Leeds, split up, married other partners and then reunited after a chance meeting. “My only thought was: ‘Let him know you’re there before you leave.’”

Fortunately, Matteo’s condition stabilized and he was taken into surgery. Jess refused to give a full diagnosis: “I didn’t want to set my husband’s sell-by date.” After 10 agonizing hours, surgeon Ryan Matthews emerged to tell him the “greatest news”: He had removed 90 to 95% of Matteo’s tumor; A tumor that had been dormant in Matteo’s skull since childhood, partially calcified and developing into an anaplastic ependymoma. “So basically I spent my entire career with a brain tumor; I could have been a good actor without it!” Matteo jokes. Jess rolls her eyes and playfully taps her leg.

Surgery and subsequent radiotherapy were the first steps in Matteo’s rehabilitation. Therapy was done twice a day and Matteo was wrapped in the warm embrace of football. Liverpool blocked the publication of tabloid reports about his situation and former team-mates and managers created a revolving door for the visitors. Eddie Gray, David O’Leary, Steve McManaman. Robbie Fowler and Neil Ruddock were regulars on FaceTime.

Matteo is visibly humbled by the love shown to him by the football community, Jess, and his best friends Jason and Shorty, who sneak fast food into the neurology ward at night. Matteo believes these interactions created the electricity that made his brain dance again.

On her daily trips home, Jess would film her doing simple household chores like making tea. “Find the cup. Find the spoon. “The things we did without thinking were huge for him,” she says.

Therapists were taking him to supermarkets to practice buying food. “I still don’t get this right,” Matteo says with a laugh. “A meal deal costs me £50 right now! It’s all those kinds of things – I think: ‘Why can’t I do this?

Eventually the hospital deemed it safe to discharge. According to Jess, Matteo, who scored for Leeds that day at the notoriously hostile San Siro, “looked scared. That really worried me; I didn’t want Dom to be scared in the real world.”

Matteo admits that he is “not used to asking people for help”, but now he defends it with determination. His initial anxiety eroded because of “the confidence that doing small tasks gave me.”

And now? “The difference is night and day. I’m always aware; I never want to get ahead of myself. I can’t afford to be complacent. But yes, I live in the moment and I have good days.”

Their son Luca lives with them and Matteo’s daughters from his previous marriage are also nearby, so life for the family will always be different. He will never be able to drive again. Start with at least a dozen tablets each day. Even reading a few sentences drains him.

Scans and the accompanying “scan anxiety” occur every six months. “A consistent screening result is the best we could ask for,” says Jess. “This means that the remaining tumor behaves on its own.”

Despite this, the Matteos continue to move forward. He returned to punditry and regularly appeared on court as a matchday speaker at Leeds. And they give motivational speeches together. This happened by accident as Jess initially had to do some of Matteo’s explaining for her. But receiving positive feedback from their candid accounts of the events in their lives inspired them to keep going.

As well as Matteo’s cancer, the couple also talk about the dark days years ago when Matteo disappeared after all-night drinking sessions. “Suddenly the next day it is four in the morning,” it begins.

Jess interjects: “It’s Tuesday; let’s not sugarcoat it, Dom.” Matteo agrees. Was it loneliness? “You are alone,” he says. “But you don’t know you’re alone at the time. There are many sides to this. You don’t know how many addictions you have.”

Compulsive betting hit Matteo at “rock bottom” after injury curtailed his career at Stoke.

“This is an epidemic in football,” he says of gambling. “I believe it. I don’t know about it; I can only say this: I can smell it. I know it’s happening. You may have lost 100 grand, 50 grand, but you can hide it. In your head you’re thinking: ‘Damn, what did I do?’ “But you can still mask it. The money adds up and before you know it you’re on the chase. And the chase was something we all kind of enjoyed.”

Matteo is breathing. “I didn’t realize the destruction I was creating. You’re trying to destroy yourself, but you’re destroying everyone else. I understand this now. They are mistakes. Jess had to live with it. My friends and family had to live with it. But as a human being, you’re very good at masking things like that.”

Jess openly describes how close they came to divorce. She thinks her professional dance career has given her insight into the addictive tendencies of high-achieving athletes. That’s what saved them: “I think I got the point a little bit, not much,” she says. “Not much, because he pushed it to the extreme she. But I heard him. I heard him. However, in many marriages, the spouse cannot hear she. They think this is very ugly. There is no understanding in this.”

The square comes easier to Matteo now. But the shape of life is unpredictable.

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