Nobody knew, Izzy Christiansen thought, the secret meaning of her best game in an Everton shirt and why she had spent the week before the Merseyside derby at Anfield taking things hour by hour, day by day.
Christiansen’s aunt, Lucy, had died a week earlier. Among those Lucy left behind were her two children as well as Christiansen and her two siblings, whom “she would treat as her own.” “I think back to the photos from that game and I had people in the stands – his best friends, his family – and I saw them, and they saw my face… I was so happy that they were there,” Christiansen, 32, said. I just felt this whole massive release of so many different types of energy on that pitch in front of 28,000 Liverpool fans.
Lucy was 57 when she died from bowel cancer which could have been treatable if she had spotted the symptoms earlier and recognized them for what they were. She was an architect who, in Christiansen’s words, was “full of life, very healthy, super happy and one of those people who would try anything.” Lucy’s mother and Christiansen were close, as were Christiansen and Lucy. Christiansen is close to her nieces because “I want to be for them what she was for me.”
She has since wanted to raise money for a bowel cancer charity and has raised money for Bowel cancer in the UK in his native Cumbria, but retirement offered him the opportunity to achieve something bigger.
His team suggested the Bobby Moore Fund, an arm of Cancer Research UK raising money for bowel cancer research, set up by Moore’s widow, Stephanie, after her husband died aged 51 in 1993. The fund offered Christiansen a place in the London Marathon and, for three and a half years, for half a month she has been running the hills, joining running clubs and living her life glued to her running and fitness apps. The fund and Christiansen recognized that his public profile would be particularly helpful in raising awareness of early symptoms: changes in toilet habits, blood while going to the bathroom, bleeding from the anus, stomach pain and bumps, bloating and/or fatigue.
“When we caught her, it was too late,” Christiansen says of Lucy, “and by then she was on the path to decline.” For Christiansen, that meant balancing the pain of anticipated bereavement with the practicalities of a high-performance environment at Everton’s Finch Farm, where she was captain and had to warn the manager, Brian Sorensen, that he might need to plan sessions without her. She would walk around the training field with the team’s physiotherapist and psychologists on days when she was feeling particularly emotional. “I felt supported and safe, but equally, when you’re in a high-performance environment, it’s difficult. It’s like a pressure cooker. I am so motivated and determined.
One day, as she was leaving the training ground, she had the feeling that “I was going to come back to my phone with bad news.” I got a text from my mom that basically said, “If you want to say goodbye, come now.” I just burst into tears with the physiotherapist, but I didn’t do it in front of the girls. Then I left and went back to Cumbria.
She trained the next day – the Anfield game was the biggest of the season – but that was by no means the goal that got her through. She couldn’t look that far; it was about waiting, she said, until she could feel within herself that she was ready for the match. “You have a lot of sleepless nights,” she said. “I guess my way of dealing with it as an athlete was to keep going, but it hit me really hard, even though I knew it was going to happen.”
Everton won this derby 3-0. Lucy knew nothing about football but talked about it for hours because she loved the way it lit up Christiansen. Looking back, Christiansen wonders if those conversations taught him the art of “explaining football to people who don’t know it, simplifying something for a listener who can’t see the game” for his new career expert. She also spoke at Lucy’s funeral. “I said that in the later stages of my career I normally played about 57 minutes anyway,” Christiansen says. “I said I’d rather play 57 minutes and play my heart out than play the full 90 minutes and be exhausted at the end. I kind of referred to it as his life and a lot of people said how beautiful it was. That’s probably what brings you the most peace: that they are at peace.
Since hanging up her boots, Christiansen has remained in impressive shape and is now accustomed to staying on her feet for more than 20 miles. She raced most of the time in Australia when she was a pundit for the Women’s World Cup, which provided her with a break from covering and preparing for matches.
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Everton’s Izzy Christiansen retired, no regrets and plans for her TV career
She is further self-deprecating when it comes to her footballing skills, having played with BBC colleagues last month. “Someone said to my agent, ‘I couldn’t approach him,’” she says. “But I felt very bad. The change of direction, the acceleration, it’s amazing how quickly you lose that sharpness. I started stretching my hamstring in the corner and Nedum Onuoha, who was on the team against me, said, “Izzy, stop!” Don’t get injured before the marathon while playing five-a-side! »
(Top photo: Alex Livesey — Danehouse/Getty Images)