Sam McMahon’s family speaks after CTE tragedy

Newtown dad Sam McMahon knew something was wrong and pledged his brain to science. After his death, it was revealed the former local footy star had a progressive disease associated with repeated head injuries.

Sam McMahon (right) coaching in Singapore. Picture: Supplied

IN the months before his death, Newtown’s Sam McMahon was a shadow of his former self.

Widow Katie McMahon described her late husband as an outgoing and social person, who was the glue that held his loved ones together, before a dark “fog” descended over him.

He loved football – he played juniors at Anakie and school footy with Geelong College, and spent many years with Newtown and Chilwell, where he was a star.

But he sustained numerous head knocks throughout his time on the field and developed a progressive and brutal brain disease.

Mr McMahon, who worked as an executive in a global manufacturing company, met his future wife while the pair were in high school.

They married in 2002 and had a son and daughter, now aged 14 and 15.

Sam McMahon pictured with his son. Picture: Supplied

The couple spent time living in Canada, London, Thailand and Singapore, and Mr McMahon also played footy, and coached kids, overseas.

The McMahons returned to Geelong in 2020 after nine years living abroad, and Mrs McMahon noticed changes in her husband.

“He knew his brain … something was not right, as though it was broken,” Mrs McMahon said.

“He described it as a fog, and he was forgetting things, which wasn’t like him.

“He lost confidence in himself, he’d stopped exercising.”

Mr McMahon, who had not previously experienced mental health challenges, was also grappling with life back home as a returned expat amid the Covid pandemic.

He saw a psychologist and was prescribed antidepressants, but these did not help, Mrs McMahon said.

He also had a tremor in his hand.

Sam McMahon loved to travel. Picture: Supplied

Mr McMahon had been following the tragic stories of Shane Tuck and Danny Frawley, AFL greats who died by suicide and then posthumously were diagnosed with chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE) — a progressive disease associated with repeated traumatic brain injuries.

Sadly, Mr McMahon’s life came to the same end.

He died aged 44 in January 2021, survived by his wife and children, four siblings and parents.

Mrs McMahon said while watching a news story about CTE, her husband had said: “I think I could have that”.

Before his death, he asked loved ones to donate his brain if anything happened to him, and had also written in his journal to check it because something was not right.

Older sister Meaghan Kendall, 52, said her late brother, who was charismatic and fun, knew something was wrong with him but he couldn’t explain it.

“You could just see by the end of it he had just become a shell of a person,” she said.

A SENSE of relief swept over Mrs McMahon when, about four months after her husband’s death, she received the news he had been diagnosed with stage one-two CTE.

His brain had been sent to the Australian Sports Brain Bank to be analysed.

“It was a lot of waiting, and not knowing, and ‘what if he didn’t have it?’,” she said.

“You had a reason why he went so quickly like that.

“He used to say he didn’t want to leave us.”

Mr McMahon’s family believed his brain was among the first to be donated by footballers who had not played at the professional level.

Geelong Cats legend Graham “Polly” Farmer was the first Australian rules player to be diagnosed with CTE.

He was diagnosed with stage three CTE after his death in 2019 aged 84 following a long battle with Alzheimer’s.

There are four progressive “stages” of CTE.

Symptoms of the disease, which can only be diagnosed posthumously by analysing the brain,can include memory loss, impaired judgment,aggression, depression,suicidality, parkinsonism (which can cause tremors), and eventually progressive dementia, according to Boston University.

Sam McMahon playing for Newtown and Chilwell

Changes in the brain can begin months, years, or even decades after the last brain trauma or active athletic involvement, according to the institution.

Before his death, Mr McMahon’s family believed it would have well over a decade since his last concussion.

Football had been a passion of his — he’d always been outdoorsy, growing up on a farm at Balliang.

On the field, he was a hard player in a rover role.

“He was known as the ferret, because he was on the ground all the time getting the ball,” Mrs Kendall said.

He suffered repeated head knocks.

His wife and sister recall two particularly sickening incidents – one where he came off wanting to vomit and another where he was knocked out.

They believed he returned to play both times.

Mrs Kendall said concussion protocol was essentially non-existent at the time.

“Back then, they wanted to get back on, too,” she said.

Mr McMahon played more than 150 games at the Newtown and Chilwell football club, across seniors and reserves in the 1990s and 2000s.

He won the club’s seniors best and fairest in 1998 and 1999 and was named on the forward flank in its Team of the 90s.

His death had a profound impact on the club, and prompted conversations about the potential long-term ramifications of head injuries.

Club president Shaun McWilliam played alongside Mr McMahon in the 90s.

Mr McWilliam described him as an exceptionaland courageous footballer.

“He was a really high achiever at whatever he did and a really good guy,” Mr McWilliam said.

“How we knew Sam and how we remember Sam is a really happy guy.

“We didn’t realise what he was going through.”

Once upon a time it was a “mark of courage” to play the game out,Mr McWilliam said, before more was known about the long-term impacts of head trauma.

“I remember times people couldn’t remember parts of the game,” he said.

“Football’s changed.”

Emma and Nick Jarman, who are tackling concussion at the grassroots level as directors of the Geelong Sports Medicine Centre, were friends with Mr McMahon for almost three decades.

The centre, which has seen an increase in demand for concussion physiotherapy, is working to educate local clubs about what constitutes a concussion, how to manage it, and guidelines for returning to play.

The centre has administered SCAT tests, which serve as a baseline measurement for comparison if a concussion occurs during the season, to more than 260 football players.

The Jarmans said while progress had been made and national sporting bodies had implemented comprehensive protocols for managing concussions, ongoing research and education was crucial in refining these practices and implementing nationwide guidelines.

“It is not surprising that the current landscape of concussion management is confusing due to differing return-to-play guidelines and time frames across different sports,” Mr Jarman said.

In 2021, AFL Barwon adopted the AFL’s mandate that players sit out a minimum of 12 days after concussion.

AFL Barwon general manager Ed Wilson said comparing how concussion was handled in the 90s to now was “chalk and cheese”.

In recent weeks the AFL Barwon Commission formed a subcommittee on concussion, he said.

Mr Wilson said numerous stakeholders, from AFL Barwon to clubs and coaching personnel, had responsibility to keep players safe.

“It is a contact sport that is designed to be physical … but at the same time, that does not mean player health and safety is not number one,” he said.

MICHAEL Buckland, the founder and director of the Australian Sports Brain Bank, said the facility had completed examinations on more than 50 brains with involvement in contact sport to varying levels.

CTE was found in about half, he said, and of those with CTE, about half had come to the bank after suicide.

“We’re seeing roughly equal numbers of CTE in amateurs and professionals,” he said.

“Sam’s certainly not alone in that regard.

“It’s not like this disease has just appeared, I think it’s been here for decades if not longer and we just haven’t been looking for it.

“I expect there would have been many people like Sam in the past that would have gone undiagnosed.”

Michael Buckland. Picture: Sam Ruttyn

He noted in many cases, if someone was suffering from depression, often antidepressant drugs worked, even if it was CTE causing the depression.

Associate Professor Buckland said he was hopeful that in his lifetime CTE would be able to be diagnosed while sufferers were still alive.

“I think how we’re going to get a confident diagnosis is putting together, rather than just one test, results of three or four tests,” he said.

“If we’re able to screen a lot of people during life that will certainly advance our understanding of how prevalent it is in the community.

“Once you’re able to diagnose it in life, that’s when you can properly trial treatments.”

Associate Professor Buckland said football needed to evolve to survive.

“A lot of people link CTE with concussions and the management of concussion,” he said.

“It seems, at least as far as we know to date, it’s not just the concussions, it’s probably the thousands of sub-concussive impacts.

“In terms of head impacts and not just concussion … I think the game will have to evolve a long way in 20 years in order to survive.”

MRS KENDALL said her brother would never want anyone to stop playing football.

His son still plays, and wears a helmet.

“I know how much he’d love watching (the kids) play sport and be so proud of them,” Mrs McMahon said.

Mr McMahon’s sister and widow are speaking out in a bid to raise awareness.

“You see in America how much has been done there … it’s just leaps and bounds ahead of Australia,” Mrs McMahon said.

Former Cat Max Rooke is the lead plaintiff in a class action against the AFL for alleged concussion damage.

A similar case in America brought by former NFL players resulted in an initial payout of more than US$1bn.

Mrs Kendall said she believed the AFL and local sports were worried the issue was going to damage their reputation.

“It’s not just football … there’s so many sports,” she said.

Mrs McMahon wonders how many others out there are suffering from CTE after participating in local sports.

“There could be so many more,” she said.

Sam McMahon pictured at Balliang. Picture: Supplied

Thinking about children suffering concussions makes her feel sick.

The pair wants to raise awareness about brain donation, even in people who had not suffered concussion, to help “control” stocks, which can be used for comparison.

As they are left grappling with their grief, Mrs Kendall and Mrs McMahon said it was important sporting codes kept people as safe as possible, and that uncovering a way to diagnose CTE in living people, and finding treatments, was urgent.

“Now when we get together, the hardest thing is you just know that there’s this empty seat at the table,” Mrs Kendall said.

“No matter where you are or what you do, he’s not there.

“I think it’s harder, the longer it goes on, the more obvious he’s not coming back.”

Mrs McMahon talks to her children about their dad often, but she still finds it difficult to look at photos of the adventurous, popular high school sweetheart who became her husband.

Grief is a “long process”, she said.

“I don’t think it will ever go away.”

If you or anyone you know needs help, call Lifeline on 13 11 14 or Barwon Health mental health, drugs and alcohol triage on 1300 094 187

Originally published as Sam McMahon’s family speaks after CTE tragedy