A year ago, at the Euroleague Final Four, I had to cut things short quickly to be with my Dad. Now, as I sit in Berlin ready for the next one, it seems like a good time to reflect on a weird year in my life.
This time last year was supposed to be a return to normal of sorts for me. Instead, it was the beginning of a whole lot of changes. As I sit in a café in Berlin a couple of days ahead of the Euroleague Final Four, my mind goes back to all that has happened these past 12 months.
It began with a goodbye
I called the hospital right off the train at Heuston Station in Dublin that Monday evening. Dad said to get on the plane to Kaunas, so did everyone else. So I did. It was going to be my first Euroleague Final Four since the pandemic.
By the following evening, I was on alert to almost certainly come home. By midday of the Wednesday, I’d booked my flight back to Dublin and was raced to the hospital by my buddy Dave McDonnell. Shubhangi, my beloved, met me at the entrance and then we joined the family in Dad’s room.
He was unconscious but alive. I said my goodbyes to him as best I could. Shubhangi and some pals brought me to the pub to relax. Just as I was getting ready for bed, well as ready as I thought I could get, Ma called. Dad was dead. A good innings, getting to 88, but still tough on the soul.
The following few days are, as you can imagine, a blur. What I didn’t expect was how long the blur would last and that there’d be other causes.
Long weird summer
Motivation wasn’t exactly easy to come by over the next few months. My energy levels were on the floor. It was work, eat, sleep, and hope to bits that I don’t oversleep and end up late for my shift on the day job. My interests beyond the basic utilitarian stuff of work, food, and sleep were put on a backburner. That wasn’t easy, not just for me but also for those who cared about me. Time was made to look after Ma but not really for anyone else in my life or, really, myself.
Manila proved a blessing of sorts. Going to the other side of the planet for the FIBA Basketball World Cup was a welcome distraction from everything. The games were good, so were the evenings after games, and it was nice to spend time with folks I hadn’t seen in a long time.
The hotel had furiously powerful air conditioning. This was welcome and oddly proved quite useful for me getting some energy back. It was temporary. Upon returning home, the same drudgery that my body imposed on me returned with violent fury.
It’s hard to explain when you don’t know what the problem is. For, reasonably obvious reasons, I figured the issue was mostly mental. I’m quite open about my mental health issues but as time wore on, my gut kept saying to me this wasn’t head stuff.
And then…
An email appeared in my day job inbox in late November addressing everyone in the office. Then, a few minutes later, a personal one was sent to me. After 10 years, it was so long and you’re gone. Restructuring they call it. Either way, it happens. Out of nowhere my routine was broken permanently.
Look, I’m definitely happier being self-employed than I was prior and I figured some kind of cuts in the day job would happen in 2024. Still, it was a shock when it came and one that took some adjustment.
Through Christmas things were basically on hold in the professional side of life. I took it as a chance to process some of the grief. Being able to rant and rave in the family kitchen on Christmas Day was a blessed necessity.
I’m a very polite and friendly guy but, on Christmas Day, the kitchen belongs to me and you get the nasty version if you do anything to challenge that. My aunt Euny, who I love to bits, got a sharp F*** OFF through the door when she knocked at the denouement of dinner prep. It got a laugh from Shubhangi and Ma, that I had some verve back and that it was so out of character for me save for that unique annual situation.
My Ma and Dad with a few of the trophies won by Kilmacud Crokes in the 2022 season. The GAA club has been extraordinarily kind and supportive of my folks.
The restart with a what?
Heavens to Betsy, I am definitely one for a plan. The moment I was told that I might be let go, I planned for what came once the inevitable redundancy happened. I’m rather good at that sort of thing. BallinEurope was obviously going to be a focus but there had to be more.
Fortunately, there was and I could plan around it immediately. Having first dipped my toes in the commentary world properly in late 2022, I became a regular commentator for the Basketball Champions League this season. On top of that, with the same employer, I somehow ended up being the English language voice of the women’s volleyball Bundesliga. That was a rather new departure but one I’ve enjoyed thoroughly and has definitely made me a more rounded commentator on the whole.
It also helps that 20 years as one of the top technology journalists going builds up a lot of skills and connections. My dip into the public relations and media strategy world alongside my continuing journalism has already paid dividends.
There was just one huge problem. I was still wrecked all the time and it was a huge load on my mind.
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Of course it was physiological
One of the upsides of knowing a lot of smart people skilled in different fields is that you can occasionally pick their brains on said fields. When I suggested trying Vitamin D supplements to my other half, she told me it was worth a punt. Yup, kids, turns out your boy wasn’t getting enough of the sun and that was wrecking him.
Long story short, within a couple of days my morning energy situation has changed drastically. For context, I was in situations where I could behave like a saint without a drop of booze and eating healthily while going to bed at 10pm and my body still wanting nothing but sleep until midday the next day.
Now, I won’t claim to be some super early bird but I’m no longer in a constant state of exhaustion. Mornings are only rough when a rough one is earned, so to speak. My ability to do what I do has improved which, in turn, has made me less worried about my ability to do it.
Raising a glass to Dad in Berlin ahead of the Euroleague Final Four.
Still a lot to do
It isn’t all sunshine and roses. Since Dad’s passing, I’ve gained over 20kg in weight and that ain’t muscle. A big raft of blood tests and a blood pressure monitor test are coming in a couple of weeks. That and I still have a lot of work to do making things back up to all those people I confused with my exhaustion over the more than 12 months.
Fortunately, it turns out not being a git to people for most of your life means that they tend to understand when things aren’t great. The support I’ve gotten from so many people, be that through sport, my new work, my family, my FRAMILY as Vin Diesel would call it, or whatever, has kept me going.
My room in my apartment, where I do most of the work for BiE when I’m not on the road, needs a lot of work getting some order on it. There’s also my inconsistency in making sure I have breakfast consisting of more than just coffee every morning.
Still, at least I’m in a position now where addressing those issues doesn’t feel like an overwhelming drain.
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We go again
I’m not a religious person. If you are, that’s cool. I’m just not. Anyway, Saturday the 18th was the first anniversary of losing Dad. I went out to Ma and spent some time with her before I had to get ready for this trip I’m on right now. She asked me to say a prayer for Dad.
That evening, I figured I’d meet her halfway. Getting up at 3.30am wasn’t exactly a low stress deal for me. So, before I went to sleep that night, I prayed to Dad to get my backside out of bed in time for the flight.
Now I was exhausted but it was an earned exhaustion. That’s fine. Nothing wrong with fatigue that you put the work in to get.
And here we are
I’m sitting in this café in Berlin, my second cold brew of the afternoon beside me. Last night was a late one. I toasted Dad at an Irish pub with, what else, his favourite tipple of Guinness. The process of setting up a Ltd company to put all the things I do under one umbrella is moving along nicely.
As regular readers here will have noticed, the volume of content on the site has increased substantially. That’s the plan and one that is sustainable now that I amn’t wrecked all the time. The first batch of the gang gets here Wednesday morning. The bulk arrive Thursday.
I had already decided on the title for this piece before I told Shubhangi that I was going to write it. She said “Good, it’s been a year” without knowing the headline yet. I like that symmetry.
This is a new normal for me. It’s one that is full of risks but loaded far more with excitement. It has been a year but here’s to the many more to come.
Thank you Dad.
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