Chris Kamara spent much of his life believing that problems were something to be endured, rather than discussed.
It was an attitude, he said, which was forged partly by his father, partly by football and reinforced by the ‘macho’ culture in which he grew up. But after losing his ability to speak, he eventually discovered the power of leaning on others for support.
‘I thought my voice defined who I was,’ the former footballer and broadcaster said.
‘When I couldn’t speak properly, you have all sorts of thoughts going through your head. Have I got dementia? Have I got Alzheimer’s? Will I be a burden to the family? You wallow in your own self-pity, and that’s the thing you can’t do.’
'Kammy' revealed publicly in 2022 that he had developed apraxia of speech alongside a thyroid condition, after viewers noticed a change in his manner during an appearance on Sky Sports Soccer Saturday.
Apraxia of speech is a disorder that disrupts the brain’s ability to plan and coordinate the muscle movements required for clear speech. Chris later revealed he had suffered in silence for around 20 months before seeking help.
For a man whose rapid-fire delivery, confidence, humour and spontaneity had made him one of football broadcasting’s most recognisable personalities, the impact was profound.
‘Eventually I went to the therapist and he said “the day you talk about your problems is the day you start healing.” Initially – for the first six months – I said, “No, I can’t do that.”’
The turning point came after he covered a game at Rotherham. Looking at social media afterwards, Chris saw rumours circulating, with people questioning if he was drunk, or had suffered a stroke.
‘I knew then, it was time to tell people.’
Sitting in the car park at Rotherham’s ground, he called his therapist to say he was making the announcement.
‘I live 14 minutes from there, I thought when I got home I would see the reaction,’ he said.
‘And it was so lovely. Everybody was wishing me well. It’s so important to just come out and talk about it.’
It is that experience that has brought him to the island, to front Visit Guernsey’s Here for C.H.R.I.S. initiative, designed to give men a discreet way of taking that difficult first step towards asking for help. Chris said he recognised his former self in the men who might be reluctant to do so.
‘It’s macho, isn’t it?’ he said.
‘What can be so wrong in your mind that you can’t get over it yourself? But that was the stubborn old me. I think I inherited it from my dad. He never had a day off work or anything like that. Colds and flu and not feeling good – he’d go to work.’
Professional football strengthened the mentality.
‘I never laid on the bench and got a massage,’ he said.
‘Now I do, and I think what I missed out on all those years. Maybe I wouldn’t have got as many injuries later in my career if I’d been sensible enough to be part of the solution.’
Asked how often players genuinely talked about their problems in the locker room during his career, his answer was immediate. ‘No. Never. Never, ever.’
Players might moan about their wives, he said, but would not admit a relationship was falling apart or that they were struggling.
‘When I think back to the players that did get divorced while I was playing alongside them, it must have been the top of their thoughts,’ he said.
‘So to put on a brave face and smile during training must have been so hard for them.’
His friends later tried to break through his own reluctance to talk.
‘I had great friends helping me, and I shunned them in the beginning,’ he said.
‘Ben Shephard, Jeff Stelling, people like that were ringing me up constantly, saying: “Speak to us, or speak to anyone else.” Now I know talking to people and finding a solution and a way out is the only way to do it.’
His famously upbeat public persona created another barrier to admitting that, privately, he was not OK.
‘I didn’t want anyone to feel sorry for me,’ he said.
‘If people even mentioned my illness, I’d shun it straight away and think, just carry on talking about football. That was the wrong thing. Deal with the problem first, and then you can talk about football.’
Chris now speaks about accepting what he calls the ‘new me’.
‘The old me spoke 300 miles an hour, never did any research. I would stand up at a dinner with 600 people, having done no research, made no notes, and it just flowed,’ he said.
‘Now, remembering stuff is so difficult, and it’s not until you lose that you realise what a gift that was in the first place.’
Speaking so candidly to strangers about his personal struggles at the Bathing Pools yesterday, while launching the new Visit Guernsey campaign, Chris was forced to recognise the progress he had made – both mentally and physically.
‘Maybe I’ve got to work harder now,’ he said. ‘But I’m still here and I’m back. I’m not as quick speaking as I used to be, but if you meet me for the first time, you’ll think I always talked like this.
'It wasn’t easy to get to this position. But now I’m here, it’s a thing of the past. I’m happy again.
'And if I can help just one person do the same, then it’s been worth it.’