A week prior to his departure to Australia, he reluctantly underwent a scan. For months, a lump had been protruding from his neck’s left side. Unfazed, he decided to ignore it, hoping it would diminish with time. Having the size similarity to a ping-pong ball, his friend’s tireless pestering finally convinced him to get it probed. The reorganised strategy was something like: undertake the scan, pack belongings, jet off to Australia.
A certain nurse hinted, questioning his decision to leave. She, and frankly him as well, had a hunch. Yet, he’d booked it all and his denial over the potential severity kept him en route.
Weeks later, in peaceful Fremantle, reality struck. Losing his phone upon arrival presented the hospital with a communication issue, thus, they resorted to breaking the news to his next of kin. His father, the bearer of such heavy news, was the first to be contacted. He attempted to downplay it when informing his son. But unfortunately, it was quite the opposite of ‘all good’. It was Hodgkin lymphoma.
The world beneath him transformed into quicksand and he was submerging. References to ‘stage three’ were thrown around, but in the blur of it all, he was uncertain. His legs felt like jelly as the Western Australian scenery spiralled around him. Níall Kane was in the prime of his life, only 27 years old.
Never was there a time when he didn’t dream of playing for Meath. Countless imagined victories in All-Ireland finals, the euphoria swirling in his dreams, he was totally consumed. He played at the minor and under-21 levels for the county, yet the senior call-up was elusive. Years rolled by, with no progress. Strangely, after he had a key role in Simonstown’s back-to-back senior championships in 2016-17 and then being assigned club captaincy for their try to a three-peat in 2018, the much-awaited call finally came that same year.
Reflecting on his earlier days, he reminisces how eager and proud he felt the first time he pulled on the jersey to play his debut game against Leitrim in Oldcastle. It was an honour he had been envisaging for many long years, waiting for the call-up.
His approach to football was one of relentless commitment, making him a fan favourite in Meath. His might not have been the most skilled player in the locker room, but no one could deny his dedication. His willingness to take on David Clifford, not the most skilled but the most devoted, garnered appreciation. He willingly took risks for the mission, evident from his fierce tackles and ceaseless efforts.
However, in March 2019, during a league game against Kildare, his commitment led to a personal disaster. In the closing moments of the match, with Meath hanging onto a single-point lead, he daringly prevented an equalising goal. He did this by diving for a loose ball like he was saving the goal from an explosion, in the process dislocating his left elbow.
Following immediate surgery in Drogheda Hospital, his limitations still persist even five years later, unable to perform push-ups correctly. Though Meath triumphed in that game by a single point, it was a fruitless victory for him due to his injury. His breakout year in 2019 had been going well, playing in all of Meath’s league games until his injury and even scoring twice from wing back against Donegal. The timing of the injury was far from ideal.
Despite this, he managed to return to the field in August, entering as a sub against Kerry in the All-Ireland SFC Super Eights.
He had contemplated moving to Australia for a year or two, to explore the possibility of a new life abroad. As a certified personal trainer and yoga instructor, he believed the opportunities were boundless. Therefore, when he received some life-altering news over the phone, it struck him with immense force.
Feeling an instinctual desire to return home following his diagnosis, he resisted this urge. Instead of seeking shelter in reclusiveness, he focused all his efforts on digging deeper into the matter. The seclusion in Australia provided him with a chance to confront and reconcile with his condition. At first, he experienced an unexpected form of embarrassment as he had previously identified as a healthy person, an image he projected onto his social media platforms accordingly, creating a false sense of invincibility. The shock, however, transformed this fallacy into a reality. His weight plummeted by 10kg within a fortnight of receiving the news, an indication that stress was internally gnawing at him, leaving him pondering about life expectancy in nights of solitude.
Upon hearing the story of a fellow native from Meath who was diagnosed with advanced lung cancer in March 2020, he contacted Gary Morrell. Despite Morrell’s grim prognosis of only a few months to live, his tale of adopting both traditional and alternative treatments inspired him.
Upon his return to Ireland in January, rather than immediately immersing himself into standard medical treatment, he prepared himself for chemotherapy by improving his diet, consulting therapy and frequently immersing himself in nature. However, his family and friends were understandably anxious. His physical symptoms were evident and medical professionals had cautioned against delaying treatment. Some found his tranquil response unnerving, namely his hesitance to promptly engage with standard medical treatments. Believing that the efficacy of the medication was dependent on the recipient’s readiness to receive it, he decided to wait until he felt prepared. He trusted his gut feeling to strengthen his body first and acknowledged that if this approach proved erroneous, he would have to accept the implications of his mistake.
“My relatives were initially uncertain, but once they grasped my chosen path, they provided tremendous support. I was blessed – my kinsfolk and companions were fantastic, always ready to lend a hand. Their support was immeasurable to me.”
He would sporadically head to west Cork to utilise hyperbaric chambers. Over time, he would arrange several sessions in these oxygen-rich rooms and spend the nights sleeping in his van.
He delved into Vicky Phelan’s autobiography, Overcoming, and found out about the positive effects of intravenous nutritional therapy, more commonly known as vitamin drips. Once again, he set off in his van, this time destined for Portlaoise.
“I ensured that those who I cordially invited into my circle were trustworthy and would not interfere with the medical treatment already in place. There are countless supplementary treatments that can help facilitate the chemo and make it more potent.”
He began to keep track of every holistic treatment he used, almost exhausting his supply of paper. He was open to any potential solutions that could improve his current condition. He travelled as far as Donegal, joined a Young Men’s Rites of Passage retreat in Wicklow, and even disconnected from the digital world.
“I shut my phone off and informed my relatives, ‘You won’t be hearing from me for about three weeks.’ I desperately needed some solitude. After that, I felt ready to proceed with the traditional methods. I contacted the hospital and they immediately got the ball rolling. I initiated my treatment, but by then I had gathered a group of supporters around me – medical experts, herbalists, acupuncturists, therapists, honest individuals.
“No one else can tread your path for you, but you certainly don’t have to walk it alone. Seek assistance if needed”, was a crucial lesson he learned.
Fast forward to late 2023, he was administered chemo bi-weekly for six months at the Mater Hospital.
“My initial expectation was to be in a serene room, with soothing music playing in the background while lounging comfortably. However, reality soon struck as I found myself amidst a sea of people undergoing similar treatments,” he reminiscences.
Upon his arrival, he examined the plethora of faces, some evidently sicker than others, most being old-aged. His immediate reaction was to question his presence, he was after all just a youth. But, his empathy grew tremendously. As a healthy, young man he felt well-prepared for the journey ahead. However, he found himself being deeply affected thinking about individuals who were older or were already under the weather before their diagnosis, the weight they were carrying was mind-blowing. It’s indeed humbling to witness the tenacity and fortitude people possess.
His journey started off well for the first three months, but eventually, the continuous treatment sessions began taking their toll. He experienced exhaustion, extended sleep hours and dreadful night sweats. Out of all his trials during the treatment, these disrupted sleep cycles, resulting in fluctuating moods, stood out as the most challenging.
Eventually, he began to lose his hair, a man known for his topknot and beard from his inter-county football days, akin to Agassi minus the mullet. He grinningly recalls his ‘topknot’ days with Meath, when he along with a couple of other boys, were typically seen sporting the hairstyle. However, he didn’t fret his lost hair, considering it to be purely trivial. Ultimately, his eyebrows, beard, every bit of his hair was gone.
He had mentally prepared for this so it didn’t particularly bother him. However, it did take aback people who knew him earlier. He had to acclimatise to the discomfort of people who were probably taken by surprise but meant no harm. They just were unsure of not wanting to invade his personal space.
Conversations during chemotherapy weren’t his thing. Apart from the sheer physical distance between the patients that needed to be breached, it was evident that everyone was just trying to persevere in their own way. One of his fellow Meath footballer, Liam Hayes, had once drawn a parallel between his chemotherapy experience to a scene from Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings where the ‘good soldiers’ infiltrate his body to defeat the ‘evil little adversaries’.
Kane reveals, “I used a self-prepared pre-treatment visualisation recording, which was hugely beneficial.” He goes on, “By imagining the incoming treatment as healing medicine, I found comfort.”
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His final match with Meath was against Roscommon in an action-packed league game in 2022. At that juncture, he had already realised his days in the distinctive green and gold were numbered, acknowledging, “I pre-empted the end of my football tenure with Meath before my cancer diagnosis.”
The thought that his dream might not come true was challenging, but he has always treasured the opportunity to represent Meath, expressing, “Being able to don the Meath jersey was an honour I never underestimated. It held immeasurable meaning to me.”
Emphatic in avoiding self-sorrow, Kane set his sights on a fresh beginning in Australia late in 2022. The move enabled him to cease lingering in nostalgia, and make a decisive break away. In the spirit of decluttering, he disposed of all his gear except for one particular jersey. “I retained the jersey from the game against Kildare when I dislocated my elbow, because they had to snip it off.” he shares, “That jersey held varied symbolic meaning, but of late, I’ve been considering parting with it as well.”
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Our conversation is set at the Hill of Tara, chosen by Kane, who spends a fair share of his time there, absorbing its unique aura. From atop Forradh, he points out various distant landmarks, including Skryne Tower to the northeast and the Loughcrew to the west.
Our dialogue begins as we lounge against Duma na nGiall (the Mound of the Hostages), nestled on a green patch. With the rain’s onslaught, we began a leisurely walk back to the car space, sauntering past the precipitous hills where Seán Boylan trained and moulded the Meath footballers.
“Seán employed tactics that were quite unusual during that era, he possessed a unique, holistic perspective rather than just the customary approach of coaching teams,” comments Kane. “He introduced them to Tara, brought them to the seaside, engaged them in pool excercises, provided them with herbal concoctions. Humbly, the players trusted him and were willing to give it a whirl.”
Back at his van, Kane rummages through a woven basket, pulls out a flask and proposes a Hawthorn tea.
“It was harvested a few fortnights back. The Hawthorn leaves are quite beneficial for cardiac health.”
Certainly, herbal concoctions indeed.
With a gaze out of the window, he traces an invisible curve upon the scenic vista with his hand.
“Each herb in the hedgerow possesses medicinal properties.”
He shares about the potency of elderflowers, spring nettles, numerous applications of dandelions, and the advantages of rosehip tea. He poses a query whether we have ever discerned how cleavers (sticky backs) mirrors the lymphatic system in our body? We affirm, deceitfully, and clandestinely vow to look that up later.
As time rolls on, we experience showers intermittently and gradually empty the flask.
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All-clear.
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Half a year post his chemo conclusion, all that Kane could perceive was those words. He was left standing on steady grounds, his legs solid as rock. It was late May 2024.
“I felt as though a massive burden was suddenly lifted off me. Although I was slightly apprehensive, the sensation was parallel to how I felt before a match; aware that if you’ve put in the work and given your best shot. I was confident that I did all I could, and gratefully, the outcome was favourable.”
Jim Stynes, in his touching book ‘My Journey’, often touched upon the theme of ego loss – a topic that resonated deeply with many readers, like Kane. Kane feels that his identity has been fundamentally altered by his battle with cancer over the last two years.
He believes that this change is for the better, asserting that his worldview has broadened and that he now has a clearer understanding of his place in the scheme of things. While he regrets the physical damage he has had to endure, Kane is thankful for the invaluable lessons his ordeal has taught him.
He talks about how illness and injury are often referred to as ‘pain teachers’, indicators that something in our lives needs to change. An important lesson for him was understanding the true importance of things in life. He offers a word of caution to those who prioritise work, asserting that the true priority should be spending time with family and loved ones.
In late June, he ended up in Simonstown with the idea of participating in a training session as a warm-up, testing the waters of Gaelic football again. But when the club’s second team had a B League game against Seneschalstown on the same night and were short of players, Squealer – his nickname rooted in the character ‘Frankie the Squealer’ from ‘The Simpsons’ – was noticed.
“Many people recognise me but they don’t actually know my real name, I’m known just as Squealer,” he states.
Níall Kane last kicked a ball in a football match in September 2022, when his team, Simonstown, faced off against Ballinabrackey in a relegation playoff. Regardless of being out of training, still acclimating to life after chemotherapy, and being unfit and unprepared, he took part in a league game on a late June evening this year.
Undeterred, he confirmed his participation.
Several of his teammates from Seneschalstown, who also happened to be his old school chums, acknowledged the significance of the moment. Kane’s comeback was met with approving nods and smiles, which had a therapeutic effect.
Despite not being able to make a single successful catch or tackle, the experience was enjoyable for him. “One of my aspirations which I formulated during treatment months back was to at least play a quarter of an hour in any club championship match this year, regardless of the level. I have no high hopes, but I wish to see if I can handle playing in a championship game this summer.”
On a sweltering evening in August, Simonstown battled Navan O’Mahony’s in the initial round of the Meath Premier 2 Championship. As the match intensified during the second half, the Simonstown coaching staff called upon their reserve player, wearing jersey number 27, to join the game. Níall Kane crossed the boundary line onto the field a few moments later, making his return official.