MOOSE JAW `MIRACLE'
Blindness has not prevented up-and-coming podcaster Matthew Fernell of Moose Jaw from playing basketball and setting a goal of working in sports radio.
At birth, nearly four months premature, Matthew Fernell weighed one pound nine ounces, just three ounces more than a regulation NBA basketball.
There was the remotest likelihood of him eventually playing that or any of the many sports he would come to love. The only priority at the time was to ensure that he would live.
“He was born on a Sunday,” Patty Fernell, Matthew's mother, recalls of Feb. 10, 2002. “If he would have been born on a Saturday, they may not have saved him because he would have been less than 24 weeks gestation. Twenty-four weeks was the requirement.
“They would have just wrapped him in a blanket and let me hold him until he stopped breathing. “It literally came down to hours.” The situation was so perilous that he was immediately taken from the delivery room. Ten IV pumps, a ventilator, a heart monitor and a feeding tube were hurriedly hooked up to his tiny, 12½inch frame.
“We probably could have put Barbie doll clothes on him at birth,” Patty says. “His head would have been the size of a plum.”
At that point, everyone could only wait and hope for the best.
Matthew not only survived, but thrived, albeit without all but the slightest trace of eyesight.
Even that would not prevent him from some day hitting the court and, moreover, a few memorable baskets.
No wonder his mother calls him “a miracle.”
His many friends refer to him as “The Chatterbox,” aptly the name of his recently launched podcast. The guest list includes former Moose Jaw Warriors and NHL star Theo Fleury and Calgary Flames broadcaster Peter Loubardias.
Matthew, who is in Grade 12 at Albert E. Peacock Collegiate in Moose Jaw, loves to talk. In fact, he would like to do that for a living, with the aspiration of becoming a sports broadcaster.
How could anyone bet against him? Look at where he was in 2002. Look at him, marvel at him, and listen to him now.
“To say that I beat the odds is kind of an understatement,” says Matthew, who speaks candidly about “defying the odds of being alive.”
Matthew spent 112 days in the Regina General Hospital's neonatal intensive care unit and another nine days at Moose Jaw Union Hospital.
The primary issue became his eyesight, due to a condition called retinopathy of prematurity. The development of the blood vessels in his eyes was affected to the point where the retinas were severely damaged.
There is, in Matthew's words, “a little bit of light perception” in his left eye. Even that trace of eyesight is likely to eventually disappear due to glaucoma.
To all around him, though, Matthew is the brightest light.
Instead of bemoaning the lack of eyesight, he appreciates and emphasizes being healthy, active, studious and goal-oriented.
He knows, all too well, what the alternative could have been. He is, all things considered, lucky.
“When you get lemons, you make lemonade,” says Patty, the mother of Matthew and 16-yearold Carson. “You count your blessings and go on.”
Eventually, Matthew was able to count the baskets.
“I started playing basketball in Grade 4,” he recalls.
“I was outside at recess, I kid you not, probably every day for the next four years, whether it was plus 20 or minus 20. There would always be a kid who would give up his recess to just come over and shoot.”
In Grade 6, he tried out for the boys' basketball team at Ecole Palliser Heights School and made the B squad.
Provisions and pre-arrangements were made for Matthew to participate in games by shooting free throws. He would typically take the first shot before the player who was fouled would step on the free-throw line and complete the process.
The same routine was followed the following season.
“In Grade 8, I went to my homeroom teacher, who was my coach that year, and said, `Is there a possibility that I could get some sort of court time so I could be like a normal player?'” Matthew says. “He said, `Yeah, we can try.'”
Matthew ended up scoring a basket in the second quarter of Palliser Heights' home opener, against Empire Community School.
“We went over to the Empire bench and found a kid who volunteered to be my check,” Matthew says.
“We put a set of jingle bells around his arm so I knew where he was and I could follow him and worry less about the ball.”
Eventually, the ball ended up in Matthew's hands and sailed through the net.
“I remember trying to go back down the court and I was tearing up at the same time,” he says. “That was super hard, to try to play defence and cry at the same time.”
The crowning moment, however, occurred during a late-season game at King George Elementary School.
Matthew's father captured both of Matthew's baskets on video, along with the ensuing celebrations.
Although Palliser Heights was the visiting team, the home crowd was robustly in Matthew's corner.
Matthew has not played the sport at an organized level in high school, concentrating instead on his studies, his extracurricular pursuits — such as reading the announcements before Peacock's production of “Beauty and the Beast” — and his love of games people play in the NHL, CFL, WHL, etc.
To further his broadcasting skills, Matthew has started the aforementioned podcast.
In day-to-day life, he communicates in a manner that would not lead anyone to suspect that he is virtually blind.
A computer at school has a program named Jaws, which has proven to be invaluable.
“Whatever is on the screen, it will read back to you,” Matthew explains.
“It's basically like a talking robot voice that you get coming out of your speakers. If you send me an email, it reads the email. If I want to reply, I can reply. It'll read what I'm typing in and then I send it.”
With Twitter, he changes his iphone settings to activate an audio function known as Voiceover.
Instead of lamenting perceived obstacles, he prefers to focus on opportunities and objectives.
After Grade 12, he would like to attend broadcasting school and eventually work in radio.
As it is, The Chatterbox can often be heard in his bedroom, describing and analyzing games that he cannot actually see, contests that often involve the Flames, Warriors or Saskatchewan Roughriders.
His parents sit back and proudly listen, those worry-filled first few days relegated to the memory banks. A promising future is the focus.
“Matthew's just a regular guy now,” Patty Fernell says. “Sometimes I forget that he's a miracle, but he is.”
I remember trying to go back down the court and I was tearing up at the same time. That was super hard, to try to play defence and cry at the same time.