“There was a moment when I began crying and I just couldn’t stop,” Anthony Knockaert says, thinking back to last December and the moment he realised he needed to seek help. The winger was at the Brighton players’ Christmas party and it all became too much for him.
On the surface, everything was going superbly for Knockaert. He had played a big part in getting the club promoted to the Premier League and was playing regularly in a competition he watched as a young boy growing up in France. It should have been the best of times but it was the worst period of his life. He did not know how to put it into words at the time but he now says he was suffering from depression.
His father, with whom he was extremely close, had died during Brighton’s promotion season and then his marriage broke up in the summer of 2017. His wife returned to France, taking their toddler son, and Knockaert found himself feeling very alone in what was once a family house.
Usually one of the chirpiest characters in Brighton’s dressing room, he struggled to keep up appearances. Little by little he became sullen, introspective, angry at times and his football suffered as he attempted to deal with the emotions of loss. It all came to a head at the Christmas party, when the tears came all of a sudden and Knockaert found the strength to reach out to his friend and club captain.
“I had to tell Bruno that I needed help, that nothing was going right in my life,” he recalls. “That I didn’t know where it was all going to end if I didn’t talk about it. I felt like I was on the edge, staring into the abyss. I was afraid of what might happen.’’
The next morning, Bruno spoke to the Brighton manager, Chris Hughton, about what had happened and Knockaert was given help to find a psychologist. Knockaert, fully supported by his club, began a course of therapy.
“I think it saved me,’’ he says, earnestly. “It wasn’t immediate. It took time. But after three or four months I started to feel better and even though you must never get carried away I can honestly say that right now I feel back to my normal self. Happy. And I can see how it all came about – losing my Dad, the pending divorce, not seeing my little boy every day. It was impossible for me to concentrate on football. Impossible. I had dreamed of playing Premier League football but I was in no state to give the best of myself. It was depressing. People were criticising my performances, but they couldn’t know why I was struggling to perform.”
Knockaert arrived in England when he signed for Leicester, aged 20, following a breakthrough season in France’s second division with Guingamp. His flamboyant play quickly made him a crowd favourite. His dribbles, his goals, the exciting wing-play and the full-blooded commitment that the Roubaix-born Knockaert puts down to his origins in the industrial north of France, helped win over his teammates, too.
He scored a late winner to put Leicester into the play-offs and was on course to send them into the final when he stepped up to take a late penalty at Watford. However, Manuel Almunia saved his effort, and the rebound, and Watford went up the other end to grab a winner in the seventh minute of added time.
Knockaert says his teammates and Leicester’s fans were great to him in the aftermath, but the penalty miss follows him around and haunts him to this day. “I didn’t sleep for three days after that,’’ he says with a shake of the head. ‘‘It was terrible – the feeling you’ve let everybody down. Thankfully, we went up as champions the next season, with 102 points. I scored the goal that sealed the title but nobody remembers that, they all associate me with that missed penalty. Even today.’’
Brighton’s promotion season provided Knockaert with a different narrative and his performances were decisive as the club fought to return to the elite of English football for the first time since 1983. His father, Patrick, was almost always there, often making the trip from France in his car. Anthony says his father must have watched just about every game he played, starting with youth football. Patrick drove from France to be at Brighton’s home game with Wolves on 27 October 2016. It was a Tuesday. He died the following week.
“The way it happened, the speed of it all made it tougher for all my family,” Knockaert says. “He died of stomach cancer. He was 63. We saw he was losing weight, but nobody suspected what was going on. He never complained. He hated hospitals, didn’t like to go to the doctor’s.
“My dad told us he had a bit of bronchitis that he was struggling to get over and that he was tired. He was coughing a lot and seemed exhausted. I’d never seen him like that.
“He said he felt bad and even asked to see the club doctor. We took him back to France first thing the next morning – he insisted on driving. He went straight to hospital.
“We had an important game against Norwich on the Saturday – we won 5-0 and I scored. It was the last game he ever saw me play. He was in his hospital room with all the family around him. That was the day he found out he had cancer. I got there late that Saturday night. I saw him Sunday, Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday and he died on Thursday.”
Knockaert had an astonishing bond with his father, one that had not changed since he was a small child. Indeed, it had grown stronger every year, which is not easy when people are in different countries.
‘‘It’s hard to face up to reality at times. You might think this sounds funny but in a way my dad was my idol and I was his idol. He was always there for me, through thick and thin. He loved football and loved coming to watch me. I don’t know if he ever missed a game from when I was a kid all the way up to my move to England.
“It’s hard to accept. We used to talk just about every day. After his death I’d sometimes find myself looking at my phone after a match wondering why he hadn’t sent me his match report.”
Two days after his father’s death, with Knockaert still in France with his family, Brighton won at Bristol City. Steve Sidwell, after scoring the winner, ran to the bench to grab Knockaert’s No 11 shirt and his teammates gathered around as Sidwell held the shirt aloft. This show of solidarity was much appreciated by the Frenchman and there was more to come.
“What happened on the day of the funeral is something I will never forget,” he says. “And it shows what an amazing club Brighton is and what great people I have had around me. I knew Bruno and the coach were coming over because Bruno, who’s been a great friend to me, called to ask for the address. I was really touched that the coach and the captain were going to be there to represent Brighton.
“The ceremony was in Leers, a little town near Lille. When I got to the church I looked up and saw a coach parked there. And getting off the bus, one after the other, all in smart suits, were all my teammates. It was unreal. Extraordinary.
“The players had come over the night before, they’d slept in a nearby town, everybody had made the effort to be there, to show their affection for my dad and to support me. It was breathtaking. I couldn’t believe it. It was an unforgettable moment for me and my family.
“I can’t imagine having better teammates or a better manager. Everybody at the club was looking after me from then on, making sure I didn’t go under. The fans were amazing, too. And my wife, my friends, my family.”
Even so, for Knockaert the following year was a battle; the overall sense was that he was lost. Yes, he had this amazing life as a professional footballer, but that did not seem to help at all at times.
“It was as if my dad’s death hadn’t really sunk in. Then, just before the new season began, my wife and I split up and she went back to France with our son. I found myself all alone in my house and everything kind of hit home.
All these emotions. I think that’s where the depression started. I didn’t dare say anything to anyone for quite a while but I felt really low, the worst I’ve ever been in my life. I had some very dark thoughts. I thought I was never going to get over it.
‘‘I’m talking about what happened to me now because I think it’s important to get the message across. Depression is not something that’s easy to understand. I certainly didn’t know what it meant – you hear about it but you can’t really grasp it until it’s close to you or until it strikes you.
“People think that because you’re a footballer, because you’re doing what you always dreamed of doing, then you can’t be unhappy or depressed. But it can happen to anyone. That’s what people need to know.
“So if you’re having a hard time and struggling to cope there’s nothing to be scared of, nothing to be ashamed of in reaching out. Trying to find a solution is the beginning to getting better. You have to talk.’’
In the UK the Samaritans can be contacted on 116 123. In the US, the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline is 1-800-273-8255. In Australia, the crisis support service Lifeline is 13 11 14. Other international suicide helplines can be found at www.befrienders.org.