Lewis on Lewis
18/11/2009 11:05:00 a.m.
Out of the Shadows by Wally Lewis (with Neil Cadigan), Harper Collins Publishers, reviewed by Paddy Lewis
IN 1987 I traded on Wally Lewis and I sharing surnames and an outlandishly bad Aussie accent to get a couple of free jugs from a particularly gullible barman at the Bowling Green Hotel in Dunedin.
The Kiwis had just beaten the Kangaroos 13-6 and I think the barman felt sorry for “my cousin Wally” and I. Wally and I had similar experiences that night, both suffering head knocks (mine as a result of being unmasked by aforementioned barman).
But for Wally, that night was the beginning of what led to this frank and disarming book. He was taken to hospital and diagnosed with epilepsy. He had suffered from it since 20, but because he was having petit mal, rather than grand mal seizures, the King had written them off as “turns” or a side effect of the flu.
It took another seven years before he was diagnosed (a secret he kept to himself and family), and then an on-air seizure in 2006 before he sought the surgery required to rectify the problem. His typical Aussie “blokes like me don’t show any weakness” soon became his downfall in his playing career and in his new TV career.
This account of Wally’s struggle with epilepsy is an eye-opener and a surprisingly good read. His candid and often uncomfortable journey out of the shadows is not at all what I expected.
For the sporty reader who looks for something a bit different, this book, and the way it deals with the inconsistency of epilepsy and trying to be a real bloke is a winner.
IN 1987 I traded on Wally Lewis and I sharing surnames and an outlandishly bad Aussie accent to get a couple of free jugs from a particularly gullible barman at the Bowling Green Hotel in Dunedin.
The Kiwis had just beaten the Kangaroos 13-6 and I think the barman felt sorry for “my cousin Wally” and I. Wally and I had similar experiences that night, both suffering head knocks (mine as a result of being unmasked by aforementioned barman).
But for Wally, that night was the beginning of what led to this frank and disarming book. He was taken to hospital and diagnosed with epilepsy. He had suffered from it since 20, but because he was having petit mal, rather than grand mal seizures, the King had written them off as “turns” or a side effect of the flu.
It took another seven years before he was diagnosed (a secret he kept to himself and family), and then an on-air seizure in 2006 before he sought the surgery required to rectify the problem. His typical Aussie “blokes like me don’t show any weakness” soon became his downfall in his playing career and in his new TV career.
This account of Wally’s struggle with epilepsy is an eye-opener and a surprisingly good read. His candid and often uncomfortable journey out of the shadows is not at all what I expected.
For the sporty reader who looks for something a bit different, this book, and the way it deals with the inconsistency of epilepsy and trying to be a real bloke is a winner.
