Ill, thin and broken, ex-England footballer Kieron Dyer, 44, was dying with a rare liver disease just 11 weeks ago. Now, he speaks for the first time after a ‘miracle’ transplant gave him a second shot at life

• Ex-footballer Kieron Dyer had a life-saving liver transplant just 11 weeks ago
• He is relishing his second chance at life after previously feeling ill and broken
• He spoke to Mail Sport’s Oliver Holt for the first time since the procedure
• Was Garnacho’s overhead kick REALLY the greatest ever? Listen to the debate on It’s All Kicking Off

It is not quite December yet, I know, but it doesn’t matter. It is as good a time as any to present an alternative version of A Christmas Carol. This is English football’s version, for this year anyway. It is Kieron Dyer’s version.

Eleven weeks ago, the former England midfielder lay dying in Addenbrooke’s Hospital in Cambridge. His liver was being ravaged by a rare disease, primary sclerosing cholangitis, and, after several bursts of false hope, surgeons were running out of time to find a donor organ for the transplant that would give him a second chance at life.

When one of his friends visited him, Dyer, 44, looked so ill, so thin, so broken, that when the friend and his wife got back to their car in the hospital car park, he burst into tears. He told his wife he was convinced Dyer would be dead before the chance of a transplant ever materialised.

Even though he was, he says, ‘as yellow as Bart Simpson’, Dyer did not give up hope. He was in hospital for three months but he kept telling himself that a miracle would happen. He knew he could rely on the love of his wife, Hollie, and his mum and his kids and a few close friends. But beyond that, he didn’t think too many people cared whether he lived or died.

He still thought of himself as public enemy number one, the footballer who blew it, the player who everybody thought wasted his talent, the man who was smart too late and old too soon, the poster boy for the Baby Bentley Brigade, the Ayia Napa party king, the millionaire footballer with more money than sense.

He knew, too, that people who did not know him might not view him as a particularly sympathetic figure. He had been sexually abused by an uncle as a child and as a result, he often presented an austere, unsmiling face. He did not want to let anyone in. He did not want to trust anyone. He put up barrier after barrier.

He was hard on his kids because he wanted to make them tough. He wanted to make sure they were never, ever in the position he had found himself in where someone could prey on them and take advantage of them. He found it hard to open up to anyone.

And then, on September 18, a compatible liver was ‘retrieved’ from a donor. Someone’s son, someone’s dad, someone’s brother, had died so now there was a chance that he might live. The operation took nine hours and when he came round from it, he was in so much pain he told the doctors to let him go.

The next day, he was sitting up in bed. Three weeks later, he had made such a good recovery, he was allowed to go home. I spoke to him on the phone and his voice sounded different. It sounded lighter. It was filled with a kind of optimism I hadn’t heard in it before even though we were only talking about LeBron James or the Las Vegas grand prix or how badly Shakur Stevenson had fought.

Last week, I stopped in to see him at his home in Ipswich. He spent much of the hour I was there wiping away tears.

‘The fact that someone else died so that I might live is something I still can’t process,’ he says as he sits on his couch, his two dogs fussing around by his feet. ‘I haven’t spoken about it until now because it is such an overwhelming thought. Maybe 99% of the population only gets one chance of life and I have been given two.

‘The reason I have been given two chances is because someone died. To have that responsibility and burden to do that person justice is…I still can’t come to terms with it. There are days where I just cry. I am happy. I am not sad. It is just such a powerful thought that someone had to die.

‘The burden of living my life right and making them proud is a momentous thing. People say already they can see a difference in my mood and my mannerisms. To be given a second chance, I have got to grasp it and make each day count.

‘How do you pay it back? The first thing is to make sure I never jeopardise my liver. I wasn’t an alcoholic so there will be a time where I could drink alcohol if I wanted to, in moderation, but I will never do that. I will never jeopardise my liver. I have never taken drugs and I will stay that way.

‘I will try and live every day to the fullest, try not to waste a single day. I have got a lot more positive outlook on life now. It’s a shame that it took someone else’s tragedy for me to be able to see it.’

So far, Dyer’s recovery has gone well. He has regular blood tests and the results are all good. There have been no signs of his body rejecting his new liver. His doctors are reducing his daily intake of pills and he has been given the all-clear to drive a car again. Later in the afternoon, he is heading to the cinema with Hollie to see the new Hunger Games movie.

And there are other things. A life in the game meant he missed most of his kids’ sports days and birthdays. Now, he has started going to watch his youngest son, Kody, 12, play for his new football team on Saturday mornings. ‘It means a lot to him,’ he says, ‘and it means a lot to me, too. I am going to dedicate a lot more time to my family. When you get a second chance, you realise family and friends are more important than anything else.

‘I was in hospital for over three months and I must have had four people come to see me every single day. It’s a trek from Ipswich to Cambridge, too. I always used to think I was public enemy number one and that I was hated but when things got real, I found out I have got a lot of people who care for me.

‘When I was in hospital, waiting for the transplant, I was at my lowest. I was a nightmare to deal with. I was dying so you can imagine how moody and erratic I was and not once did my family take it personally. All they showed was love, love, love. How could they put up with me? They drove three hours a day every day for three months. That’s unconditional love.

‘The outpouring of love from family and friends and the football world was so powerful. I’m an Ipswich boy and our biggest rivals are Norwich. I don’t really like Norwich. When I woke up from my surgery, there was a hamper from Norwich City saying “get well soon” from the football club. I thought that was absolutely class.

‘The first Ipswich game I went to was against Plymouth and it was an emotional day because of the outpouring of love from the fans. I was with my son, Kaden, and I was trying to hold it together. People were coming up to me as I was walking to the ground with my boy and they were saying they were proud of me.

‘I’m a coach at Chesterfield now and I got the same from their fans, too. It has been overwhelming. Paul Cook, the Chesterfield manager, came to see me. The Ipswich boss, Kieran McKenna, asked if he could visit. I’d only overlapped with him at Portman Road for about a month. I think that’s testament to the man.’

And so, of the many new things he wants to savour, the things he wants to repair, the experiences he wants to embrace and the duties he wants to fulfil, one commitment stands out above all the others.

It is not compulsory to write to the family of the person who donated their liver but Dyer is in no doubt that he wants to do it. He thinks about it all the time. It is just that so far, finding the gravity and the depth of what he wants to say has defeated him.

‘They don’t tell you much about your donor,’ he says. ‘I just know we were similar in age and that the new liver I’ve got is a Rolls Royce of a liver, with no fat. Every time I think about starting the letter to their family, I can’t find the words.

‘What do you say? It’s a heart-breaking thing. You want to thank them so much. It is because of them and the donor that you’re alive. They have given me a second chance but they have lost someone close to them. My wife and mum want to send letters, too.

‘I have heard about television programmes where a person who has been the beneficiary of a heart transplant has met with the donor’s family. I wouldn’t know what to say if I met my donor’s family. I would probably break down and just cuddle them and not let them go.

‘I think I have got wiser as I’ve got older, I think I have matured in the last few years but this is different. Before this, I wasn’t seeing as clearly as I should have done. As one more example, I still held grudges against people. I don’t any more. Life’s too short.’