HALF AN HOUR into our conversation and Luke Keaney is recounting his darkest days. 

“I wasn’t a nice person to be around,” he tells The42. “I look back on it and it saddens me that my family had to see me like that.”  

Happier times: Donegal's Ryan McHugh and Luke Keaney celebrate their Ulster success in 2014. Morgan Treacy / INPHO Morgan Treacy / INPHO / INPHO

They came after the once budding talent from Donegal was forced to call a halt to his playing days at the age of 24. He played his last game for the county a couple of years earlier in the 2014 All-Ireland final.

Overtraining and balancing college, club and county duties at the same time left Keaney’s hips in a state of degeneration so bad they resembled a 70-year-old’s. The long mid-week journeys to Donegal training from Dublin and, later, Belfast took their toll on his body.

At one point in late 2012, he played seven games over a 28-day period. He didn’t realise the damage he was doing until it was too late.

In January 2017, an orthopaedic surgeon based in Coventry, Professor Damian Griffin, delivered the crushing news that his career was over.

Keaney pauses for a second and collects his thoughts in a Santry coffee shop.

“My world came crashing down,” he sighs.

“I broke down and was very emotional because he didn’t really know what the next step was and he couldn’t promise me. I knew then my career was over. You’re a 25-year-old and all you want to do is play for Donegal and Four Masters, and that was never going to happen again.

“Dealing with that was a sense of disbelief. It didn’t really hit home until I contacted my family and I was going back to Donegal. While I had the whole stress of the financial side, the insurance and dealing with the county board and the isolation, I was still trying to get my head around not being able to play.”

He underwent five major hip surgeries, four on his right and one on his left, over the next 10 months. They affected his mind as much as his body.

Too often, we position events in an athlete’s career — a win, loss, setback or even injury — as life-changing. In Keaney’s case, what he went through in getting from those initial hip pains around 2012 to this point actually was.

Keaney had to learn how to walk again. Luke Keaney Luke Keaney

The grandson of Galway icon Tom Dillon, an All-Ireland winner in 1956, Keaney’s path to the Donegal senior panel was swift. He was still a teenager when he joined Jim McGuinness’s squad, making his league debut in 2013 while they were reigning All-Ireland champions.

His first marking assignment was on Dublin star Diarmuid Connolly. The future looked bright. From the start, as he balanced Four Masters, UCD, Donegal senior and U21 responsibilities, there were few who could quite relate to him and the pressure he was putting on himself to keep everyone happy.

It meant his whole life became go, go, go. Then, it stopped.

In June 2017, Keaney was still dealing with the end of his playing days while he prepared to undergo a metal resurfacing of his right hip to give him a better level of activity in the future. He flew out to Bali with some friends on a two-week holiday to “mentally prepare” for the operation.

UCD house-mate and Leinster rugby player Adam Byrne was part of the travelling crew, as were Byrne’s team-mates Peter Dooley and Tom Daly.

“It was nice because it was an escape where we went away, enjoyed ourselves and had the craic,” Keaney says. “We met up with a few others so there was eight of us that travelled around and had a good blowout.

“It wasn’t until after the operation that everything came crashing down.”

Old habits are hard to break. So is the persistence of fighting for your football career.

Without any light at the end of the tunnel, Keaney came face-to-face with his sporting mortality. There’s no road map for retirement in your early-20s.

Keaney was grieving the end of his playing days and coming to terms with the loss of his identity as an athlete. He moved back home and spent eight weeks on crutches while doped up on morphine for the pain.

He couldn’t carry a plate or put on his socks. He needed help for simple tasks like getting out of bed and showering. 

“You’re taking all that away from a 25-year-old. That side was very, very difficult and I’m forever grateful to my friends and family who were there to support me through that.

“That’s probably when I was at my angriest. It was frustration, self-pity and anger about what had happened to me and the lack of control I had over it. 

“Also there was a jealousy aspect to my family first of all that they were still fit to play – my sister (Kate) was playing for Donegal, my brother (Jack) was playing professionally for Sligo Rovers. They were fit healthy, my friends were all playing for their clubs, the county lads were still playing for Donegal.” 

Those what-ifs can be haunting. For a while, Keaney became swallowed by what might have been.

A counselling service provided by the GPA helped him come to terms with his new reality.

“I was getting counselling each day. That was one side of it and there was the other side of my identity of not being a footballer and a shame that I’m still a 25-year-old who should be playing and that’s gone from me. People still to this day say, ‘Oh, there’s Luke Keaney the footballer, but I’m not Luke Keaney the footballer. That’s gone.’ 

Keaney after surgery. Luke Keaney Luke Keaney

“They’re asking, ‘Why aren’t you playing anymore?’ They don’t understand. While my friends and family were there, they had to get on with their lives, they couldn’t hold my hand. There were a lot of dark days when you were lying on a couch.

“I wasn’t working, I was self-dependent. It’s only through time, it’s that grieving process. It’s like losing something and I’m still getting over that. I’m still dealing with it day-to-day and it’s not something that’s going to happen overnight. It’s a period of time.

“I remember on one of my darkest days, I was alone and my friends were out socialising. I couldn’t go out for fear or falling or someone bumping into you and the damage alcohol does to your body in repairing.

“I had a strict schedule. My alarm used to go off at 10pm when I had to get into bed to get my 10 hours sleep. I’d get up in the morning, try to do my rehab, maybe read a book and then watch a documentary or bit of TV and then do my rehab again and get something to eat.

“That was your schedule but at the same time there was that isolation when you were on your home. No-one could do it for you, you have to just battle through the demons.”

The death of his grandfather and his mother’s fight with cancer helped give Keaney some perspective. 

“We’ve had a lot of family set-backs, my mum battled cancer last year. I lost my grandfather who had a massive influence in my life. I just take it day to day.  

“It wasn’t until I went through all those dark days and realised how lucky I am just to be healthy that that changed my mindset. 

“I feel I’m a better person now even though I’ve had them setbacks and I’ve lost everything in terms of football. I’m aware how short life is and how we need to make the most of it.

“Even last year with mum battling the cancer. That made me say, ‘Right, she went through that life-changing experience. Yes, I went through four operations but it was never at risk of my long-term health.’

“Even though it impact my life and had a massive toll mentally and physically, I still wasn’t battling a serious illness.’

“Now I’m looking back on that period, I’ve grown and matured. I’ve realised there’s a bigger picture in life than football. Mentally, I’ve learned a lot from myself and how to battle and deal with setbacks.”

Monaghan's Kieran Hughes' shot is blocked by Keaney in the 2014 Division 2 final. Tommy Grealy / INPHO Tommy Grealy / INPHO / INPHO

Inspired by Australian rugby player Matt Toomua, he decided to set up a rehab page on Instagram to track his recovery and keep his mind busy.

“There’s nothing out there for people coming back from hip operations. If I document my story it might help someone.

“I remember lying on the couch with a heavy heart. There’s a lot of pity there. At this stage I was about six weeks in and my anger had gone down because over time you have to look at the bigger picture.

“You go, ‘Right I can feel sorry for myself or I can just battle this and do something positive off it.’”

Ireland soccer captain Seamus Coleman stumbled across the page and reached out.

“I’d know him from back home, but he just happened to see my rehab page. He’d just gone through his double (leg) break and he was coming back.

“He sent me a really nice message. Just something like that gave me a lift. That gave me a perspective that if someone else is looking out and you can give them a few words of wisdom and pointers, then you can input some positive change on someone else.

“That’s where I’m at right know. I could have stayed in a dark hole, angry and frustrated at the world and put blame on everyone else, but I’m trying to look past that and move on. If I can influence change for other players and the GAA as a whole, then I’m doing something right.”

After undergoing counselling Keaney now feels better equipped. He has found a place mentally that has him more prepared for whatever’s coming next.

“A lot of it is down to your mindset, I’m quite a strong-minded person,” he says as he begins to explain the counselling process.

“I would speak to him (the counsellor) a lot. It was just having a discussion with him. As much as your friends and family are good to speak to, it’s just having someone else who’s completely out of your bubble.

“The process for me was just opening up and telling him how frustrated and angry I was. How I was feeling down and the self-pity. That was one aspect of it but also it was about saying,’Yes this is happening and yes I’ve lost my identity of football and yes I’ll never play for Four Masters or Donegal again, but I’m still not dying or I don’t have a long-term illness.’

“So it was that and realising there’s more out there to life. That mindset change and renewed focus. I focused more on my career. I’m still trying to find something that replaces football so I started rowing.

“All athletes need targets and goals. After the resurfacing, in those 10 weeks it was about hitting small goals of my rehab, like learning how to walk again, getting back jogging in the pool, getting back to anti-gravity, single-leg squatting, single-leg glute bridging, weighted goblet squats.

“All them small things and me just speaking through that with the counsellor and being open.

“And just sharing my mindset and saying I couldn’t go and watch Donegal play because I said it was just too difficult. Being honest now, you’re moving on.

“Opening up and telling my story and highlighting it has taken a lot of weight off my shoulders but there’s still the aspect of never being able to play again.”

Keaney on the attack in the 2014 Ulster semi-final. Donall Farmer / INPHO Donall Farmer / INPHO / INPHO

Sometimes when he watches one of his siblings in action or Donegal play, his retirement can still hit him like a ton of bricks. The game will always be there. But never again will he be part of a dressing-room, of that kind of brotherhood among team-mates. A reminder of what he missed out on. 

“Going back to watch your club play and your friends that you grew up with and not being able to contribute…there’s still those demons I’ll have to fight against. As much as I love supporting Donegal, I still feel jealous. There’s part of me going, ‘I could do this job’ or ‘I feel I’m better than that player’. 

“There’s a part of me that resents they’re still able to do that. People might say it’s bad to have that outlook, that’s just the selfishness in me and all athletes are like that. To get to the top you have to look after yourself and look at that inner selfishness.

“A lot of my friends are still playing inter-county football and I talk to them on a daily basis. As much as I’m still delighted for them, I’m jealous of them at the same time. “

Keaney opened up about his story at the GPA’s 20×20 conference at the end of last year, the first time he felt comfortable telling his story in public.

But before that he estimates to have spoken with between 80 to 100 athletes, both male and female, who reached out to him through his rehab page. He advised them not alone about hip injuries, but also about the mental aspect of injury and dealing with the isolation.  

“There’s definitely a role I’d like to play in the future in educating these players to look after their bodies and when they are feeling down to speak up,” he says, before adding that ultimately it’s up to the GAA to better look after its players.

Keaney’s one regret is not realising his dream of visiting his grandfather in Galway with the Sam Maguire.

“I was recovering from the operations and I was down in Galway with my grandfather who at the time was 93,” he recalls.

Keaney with his grandfather, Galway legend Tom Dillon.

“He would have brightened me up and cheered me up when I was feeling down and he looked at life through a different lense.

“Galway had just won the All-Ireland and the two Mannions (Padraig and Cathal), who are from Ahascragh where Tom Dillon my grandfather is from.

“They got to bring the Liam MacCarthy to him and got a photo. There was a part of me that was trying to make him proud.

“I was longing to bring an Ulster title down to him or the Sam Maguire and get a photo.

“That’s something that still kind of haunts me, that I was never able to do that. Even though he has now passed away, back when he was alive and when I was dealing with that, that was something I found very difficult. 

“(I realised) I’m never going to get that opportunity to do him proud and that’s quite difficult as well.”

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