The deadly sound of silence
Western society has long admired ‘the strong, silent type.’ We revere the man with no name who looks up from the card table and deals the occasional monosyllable. But maybe this cult of silence is killing too many of our young men. Maybe we need to talk about things more.
One person wondered if the onset of Joost van der Westhuizen’s motor neurone disease was accelerated by all the blows to his head accepted as a rite of passage during his rugby career. Another questioned if Sione Lauaki’s renal failure could be linked to the use of creatine, a legal supplement that allows players to bulk up.
We tell them that it is far too soon to ask such questions. We tell them that they are showing disrespect to the dead. We don’t want people picking over the bones on rugby’s killing fields. We want a solemn silence.
But we need to change our way of thinking. 2017 has started dreadfully with three high-profile deaths, the most recent being the tragic suicide of Dan Vickerman. I do not say ‘tragic’ carelessly. This was a man who reached the heights and then found the lowlands of everyday life too hard to cope with, leaving behind a wife and two young boys.
ARU chairman Cameron Clyne said on Monday of Vickerman’s death: ‘‘It’s very early and quite raw I think for a lot of people in rugby and I want to respect the family and not go into too much.’’
It is the usual reaction after death, but not necessarily the right one as any pathologist would tell you. This week I was contacted by David Briggs, a former Chief and captain of Tonga. He wants to go into things ‘‘too much’’. We should stand up and applaud him. The telling of Briggs’s story shows the late Lauaki respect. It shows that Briggs wants to make a difference for the kids of the future. It shows a great deal of courage.
Briggs, now 46 years, said: ‘‘I started taking creatine in 1998. We were all on creatine. I got huge on it. I went from 114kg to 125kg in a matter of weeks. We didn’t know what we were really taking. We were just told it worked.
‘‘But it didn’t feel right. Our bodies got big, but lots of people’s stomachs were playing up. I got cramps and was getting sick. I cannot be sure, but creatine’s killing all the boys. Jonah reckoned it was part of the reason he was sick.
‘‘I was Lauaki. I got in trouble with the law and alcohol. I don’t drink anymore. I had to give alcohol away or go to jail. I woke up in a cell and went before a judge. Either I changed or I would lose everything.
‘‘I retired from the Chiefs in 2004, but I am still getting headaches. I had heaps of concussions. I suffered depression big-time from those head knocks. I don’t think I will ever be right. I accept I will have depression for the rest of my life and a lot of memory loss. I go to the fridge and think, ‘Shit, what did I need?’ It’s just cos I played rugby without a mouthguard.
‘‘We didn’t think about the future. I’m here now and I’m going, ‘Damn’. The young ones need to be careful. I believe creatine is killing all the boys. I can’t be 100 per cent certain. But all the Pacific Islanders are having problems now.
‘‘My son was so determined to get big. He lives in the gym. He went out and came back with creatine. I threw it in the rubbish. I want people to think about it. We need to talk about it more. It’s the young ones I worry about. But everything is so secret in rugby.’’
There was a time in our conversation when Briggs was filled with joy. He reckons he has the smallest house in Hawke’s Bay with the biggest family. It is full of kids coming round the whole time. ‘‘I love it, love it,’’ he said. If only rugby had shown the young David, and hundreds like him, the same love. But the coaches and officials were reckless with their young lives. And lots of people don’t want to talk about it.
I asked New Zealand Rugby for an interview and did not get a reply, or at least not within the next 22 hours. I spoke to Rob Nichol, of the NZ Rugby Players Association, a man who certainly does care about player welfare. He felt it was too early and not his place, out of respect for the family, to talk about Vickerman. He called for ‘‘an evidence-based approach’’ in our reaction to creatine.
Funnily enough, that is what I was told when I was pushing for changes in how we dealt with concussion nearly ten years ago (when Nichol was also pushing for change). No-one wanted to do anything on anecdotal evidence. They wanted scientific proof.
Unfortunately there is very little research. Creatine is a naturally occurring amino acid that increases the body’s ability to produce energy rapidly, helping the athlete to push those extra couple of weights. It also pulls water into the muscle cells and increases protein synthesis.
The kidneys excrete creatinine, a by-product of creatine.
A small New Zealand study concluded that Pacific Islanders produce almost twice as much creatine as New Zealand European or Maori. If a man like Jonah was naturally producing loads of creatine already and then massively spiking its levels by taking creatine and ingesting loads of chickens, then his kidneys would be working overtime.
But let’s not talk about that or suicide or degenerative mental disease. Let’s not talk about cutting dead people’s heads open and finding out what sort of brain mush might be inside. Let’s not talk about the high possibility that creatine is wiping out Pacific Islands that are too poor to pay for much-needed research. Instead let’s rely on courageous people like David Briggs to come forward and then turn away and talk to someone else in the room.
Surely we can all be better than that.