Most days, he lies on his back at home in Bordeaux, an infra-red computer and an Internet screen within touching distance of his nose. If he wants his fix he turns on the television with a voice prompt or activates the internet with his nose.
This is the twilight world of Max Brito, the largely forgotten story you don’t hear about when fans reminisce about Rugby World Cup 1995. On Wednesday it will be 20 years since the fateful day he found himself caught beneath a phalanx of bodies while playing against Tonga in Rustenburg.
After the bedlam had subsided, Brito was left lying there, deadly still. “It was as if everything was unplugged in my body,” he says. “I immediately understood that I was paralysed. But I thought they were going to fix me, that it was not so serious.”
The winger’s injury was catastrophic. Two of his vertebrae were crushed. At the age of 24 he was left a quadriplegic.
The good-news story of Cote D’Ivoire’s qualification was soon swamped by the bitter reality of Brito’s condition. Inevitably questions were asked about the pureblood amateurs playing against the better resourced dreadnoughts from France, Scotland and even Tonga. These soon passed, however.
As the World Cup swept everyone up in its pageantry and excitement, Brito’s devastating reality became largely his alone. The former electrician went home to France, both his dream and his body shattered. The world moved on. Brito did not.
Able to move just his head and an arm, he is mainly a recluse, although he did return to Ivory Coast for a poignant visit earlier this month. It was a rare break from the dull monotony that has come to shape his existence.
The dreadlocks are gone, as is the spirit that so defined the happy participation of Les Elephants. Calling his condition “my curse”, he says it led to the breakdown of his marriage and estrangement from his family. His two boys occasionally visit – “only to rob me and buy clothes” – and he seldom sees his six siblings. Ironically, he went to the World Cup in place of his one brother Patrick, who was injured.
Talking to French paper Le Monde a few years ago, he described his situation thus: “Imagine we throw you in jail with a straitjacket or you are running in cement. It stings, it burns. One a scale of one to 10, these pains are seven or eight most of the time.”
Now 44, he sustains himself thanks to a trust set up in his name in Biscarosse, not far from his apartment in south-west France. He lives with his parents and has nurses on constant duty, bathing him, turning him over and doing the things his immovable body cannot.
The irony of Brito’s condition is that such injuries are very rare at international level. His occurred at a watershed in the game, the move to professionalism, but ever since, comparable injuries have come at rugby’s lower levels.
One such victim is promising rugby writer Dan Lombard, who broke his neck while practicing with Pretoria Boys’ fourth team seven years ago. He doesn’t remember what happened except that he was caught under a chaotic crush of bodies. His spinal cord was snapped and he too was left a quadriplegic.
Dan is a hero of mine. From his wheelchair, he writes blogs, pens numerous articles and tweets up a storm. Every single line is typed with his tongue onto a cellphone and emailed from there. To watch him in action is to see a man who refuses to be cowed by his deprivations. His enthusiasm and sense of humour is remarkable. What’s more, he adores rugby, having made friends with a number of Bulls players. He even reports on games at Loftus Versfeld.
After his accident he went back to school and finished his matric. He recently graduated with Honours in Journalism from Tukkies and is also an IRB-accredited coach; staggering achievements given his condition.
Dan was barely out of nappies in 1995, but he has heard of Max Brito and knows better than anyone the daunting challenge presented by everyday life.
Their lives deserve to be celebrated too. – © Sunday Tribune