PMN's Summer Series: How league helped me rediscover my identity after cancer stole my dream

Welcome to PMN's Summer Series, where we republish some of our best and most popular stories from the last 12 months - in largely their original form.

To sign with a National Rugby League (NRL) agent one needs to be 15-years-old.

But only three days after I reached such an important milestone for representative league players like myself, I was told I had brain cancer.

In 2015, I was the captain of my team, player of the year for my club and starting center for an Auckland representative team.

My family lived and breathed rugby league. My older brothers and cousins were all legendary local club players and from a young age I have so many treasured memories of watching and playing league at Fowlds Park, the home of the mighty Mt Albert Lions.

It was there I learnt the importance of camaraderie and team-work, instilling a “do anything for my team” mindset. Whether it was taking an extra run when the boys were tired, or making an extra tackle when we were on the backfoot.

As I excelled, I also became familiar with the role of “Captain Matty”, often ending my pre-game speeches with the line: “Never stay down and have a fuck’n crack!”

When one of my teachers would ask why I hadn’t done an assignment with the question: “what’s more important, sport or getting your work done?”

I would look back, with a confident smirk, “rugby league of course sir”.

Brittle, broken but not defeated

Growing up I was consumed by my goal of reaching the NRL - the world’s premier rugby league competition. And my friends and family helped fuel this dream with comments like:

“Matt will be the one!”
“Bro you gotta get us out the gutter.”
“Remember us when you make it!”

The common thread was that they wanted me to achieve heights that they had never met and make our community proud by seeing my family’s name on the back of an NRL jersey.

But once sickness struck, and I was faced with a new unknown, about whether I would even live, let alone make those aspirations a reality. I didn’t know what to do, or who I was.

For each chemotherapy session, I would wear a different rugby league jersey each time I had my chemotherapy infusions, in hopes that my dream to play in the NRL was still alive.

From my hospital room, I heard about my rep teammates signing development deals with NRL clubs. I watched my friends go to parties and have fun.

While I sat back, seeing their lives go on without me, I watched my once athletic body slowly deteriorate, my skin go pale, my eyebrows thin away and my hair fall out.

Matt Manukuo during his cancer treatment. Photo/ Supplied

Looking down at my IV line watching the chemo drip into my body, having to wonder every day if I’d live or die, it was hard to be hopeful.

I couldn’t watch many games during my treatment because I was at risk of getting sick. But, on the one game I did, my old opposing number from the Māngere East Polytama Hawks came out of their huddle, to come give me a hug and say hello.

I watched from the sidelines thinking of all the ways I would have run the ball, or made that defensive decision and I dreamt of how playing on the field would give me energy to push on.

I remember talking to my friend's brother-in-law saying: “I still see that fire in your eyes bro. Once you come back, there’s no stopping you.”

I held onto those moments throughout the rest of treatment, it brought me joy knowing people still knew who I was, and that this sick shell of a body wasn't my inevitable end. And when I woke up from my tumor removal surgery, one that there was a good chance I didn’t recover from, I was fueled by those comments to keep pushing forward.

I looked at myself in the mirror, with a swollen head, brittle body, broken but not defeated.

I had a decision to make: either let this situation defeat me, or get up and have another crack.

As we said goodbye to 2016 I promised myself I’d do anything to get back on the field. In pre-season training, I laced up my boots again and started to train.

I remember running with the ball again for the first time, the boys were scared to tackle me but said “don’t pity me, go fuckin hard!”
Each week I had hope that my coach would name me in the team. And one random Saturday, at Walter Massey Park, my coach and brother Trent asked if I wanted to play. At that moment I had to decide, do I let the fear of getting hurt again cripple me, or do I have another crack.

I ran on from the bench and I was back into it, and seeing my brothers’ excitement from the sidelines, gave me the most joy.

Despite my excitement to be back playing - I had to keep this a secret from my mother. Mum didn’t want me to play again after my sickness, in fear I would get seriously hurt. At the time this had me asking why my biggest supporter didn’t want me to have what I wanted the most.

But later that season, I was named starting center against the formidable Ōtara Scorpions. In a tight match I took a hard hit to my knee which I tried to shake off but shortly after that, one of Ōtara’s players dove at my knee and I heard a loud pop - which I would learn later was my ACL snapping. We ended up winning the game, but the injury didn’t concern me because I was happy to be part of another thrilling game.

After the ACL reconstruction surgery, it hit me that all the training and work I put into getting back on the field had disappeared again.

At that moment, I was re-challenged: “Is this really for me.” While recovering from my ACL surgery, I started to find interests outside of league that I could invest into.

I realised a passion for words, and started doing spoken word poetry following and shared an intimate poem about my cancer journey. I also got involved with leadership programmes which brought out my strengths in different ways.

At Mt Smart stadium, home of the NZ Warriors, where you might see me now working as a sport reporter. Photo/ Supplied

“Captain Matty” returns

At the end of 2017, I was announced as a prefect at Avondale College and the following year I was announced as Head Boy of the school.

Achieving such a honour brought the same feelings I had when I was named in the Auckland North team. That position gave me purpose.

I put my captain hat back on and wanted to treat my fellow peers like I did my teammates. We were all equal, and all on the same mission to do well in school.

I reflected on a quote by former college football star Inky Johnson who said he got the same feeling delivering speeches to crowds as he did waiting in the sheds before a big college football game.

And that was the same for me, before every speech I got the same feelings I had before every game I played. Delivering speeches every week gave me that same sense of “Captain Matty” in the sheds and I lived for it.

I played one more game in my last year of high school for the first XIII against Manurewa High School. In that game, it was my chance to prove to my teammates that on the field, I was who I said I was, and wasn’t just another out-of-touch Head Boy.

I got injured again and had to sit out most of the game, but I still earned the respect of my peers. I told my dad after the game as we drove home, that’s it for me. I don’t have that same fire I did and I think that’s it.

My dad said “OK son” and I decided to move on from the game that made me.

From then on, I put the rugby league hat away and focused on this new me. The scholar, head boy, inspirational figure to my peers - who I thought I needed to be.

People asked me if that fire still burned inside - if I was eager to play on - and I said no. Looking back at what I built, after my identity was ripped away, I was content with who I became.

Matt's two younger brothers Thurston and Riley, who have also taken up the game. Photo/ Matt Manukuo

Something old, something new

After high school, my optimism of a bright future carried me to Dunedin for studies. I was optimistic, eager to work towards leaving my mark on the world.

But instead I quickly learnt how small and insignificant life can be outside of school and away from home.

No one knew who I was, no one knew what I could do, no one knew what I had been through and most importantly, no one cared.

Removed from the village that helped me back to my feet after cancer, again I had to figure out who I was, and what my purpose was, but this time, alone.

Because of how small I felt, I often asked myself, what was the purpose of me waking up from surgery? What is my purpose in life if I wasn’t able to have the same impact I did in Auckland? Was all that work for nothing?

I fell into a depression that year, the toll of being away from home crushed me. Going from the mountain tops to the trenches was very hard. But returning back to Auckland for the holidays reinvigorated me.

In 2020, I decided to go back to Dunedin and finish off what I started. At the start of the year, on university clubs’ day (where different organisations try and get students to join), I signed up for the University of Otago Rugby League Club, but didn’t take the commitment seriously.

Covid then hit and as I was stuck in my flat, I got comfortable in my own space.

In August, one of the boys from the club got in touch with me asking if I’d like to play. And here I was again, lacing up my boots in the sheds of Bayview Park thousands of miles away from where my love for rugby league was birthed.

Pulling on a new jersey with teammates I have never played with, I was without the familiarity of playing in front of big Auckland crowds with lots of familiar faces on the sidelines. It was also the first time playing without my best friends, my Dad or brother coaching me.

But it was in this different chapter of my life, when I needed something to help me find my way, the game of rugby league gave me that purpose. The values I had learnt from the game as a child now inspired a new life out of me, and re-lit the flame.

This time the NRL was no longer the end goal for me, I was playing the sport for the love of it and unknowingly, the game was pulling me out of a dark place.

Nowadays I look at rugby league as an old friend. Someone who knows what I’ve been through, and knows that anytime I need them, they’re there.

I picked up coaching for the first time and learnt to pass on my knowledge of the game to the upcoming generation. I’m a sports reporter now too, covering stories on the team I dreamt of playing for, the mighty New Zealand Warriors.

I’m also a supporter of my two younger brothers who are still playing the game. My brother Thurston made the move over to Australia in pursuit of his own NRL dreams, and is attending one of the best rugby league schools in the country, Ipswich State High.

I can only smile now and admire my younger brothers, and support their journey in becoming anything they want. As well as ensuring they take nothing for granted, I also remind them, and myself, that as Captain Matty would say: “Never stay down and have a fuck’n crack!”