A series of concussions knocked Daniel Bell out of the game.

IN THE throes of his worst bout of concussion, Daniel Bell could not remember his girlfriend's name. He held his mobile phone but stared at it blankly. He knew who he wanted to call but he had no idea what buttons to press.



Sitting in unfamiliar dressing rooms, with familiar out-of-body sensations intensifying and his vision so blurred that he could not see his hands was nothing new for the 25-year-old. But an April day in Ballarat, when he received his last big physical hit, was nothing compared to the jolt that would come six months later.



That day — it was October 4 last year — a neuropsychologist Bell was referred to by the Melbourne Football Club, his AFL home for eight years, diagnosed him with brain damage. The expert view was that this damage had come about because of the string of concussions that had littered Bell's career and would end up seriously altering the course of his life.



The neuropsychologist's most dramatic short-term recommendation, which came after hours of testing, was made in the strongest possible terms — Bell should never play football again unless he wanted to risk further brain trauma.



But the initial sadness and financial strain that reality was to inflict on the brown-eyed sportsman, who seemed prone to hitting his head from the time he could walk, did not compare to the frightening prospect of the early onset of Alzheimer's disease or dementia.



By the time of that last big, bad hit in Ballarat — Bell was crunched playing in the VFL but doesn't know much more about the incident — he knew his days as a Melbourne player were numbered if he couldn't shake the assortment of injuries that had dogged him since he became a semi-regular senior player. In retrospect, having the conversation that all footballers dread — when Melbourne coach Dean Bailey told him of his delistment last September — was the easy part.



Bell's history of concussion pre-dated his 66-game senior career. The South Australian defender was regularly praised by his coaches, teammates and fans for on-field acts of blind courage. A link on the Demons' website still points to a story from 2007 in which Bell discusses a "warrior club" that only select Melbourne players became members of when they were judged by their peers to have committed six "warrior acts" on field.



Bell detailed how he had earned a "warrior point" from his teammates following his brief return to the field in a recent match after he'd been concussed in a clash with Chris Tarrant. "I probably should've got a stupid point because I shouldn't have gone back out there. It was a bit silly," Bell joked then.



Now, he understands that his initial insistence to Melbourne medical staff that day that he was perfectly capable of resuming play was dangerous.



But as Bell details his history of concussions — he spoke to The Age in his Bentleigh home this week in the hope that his story might influence other footballers to be less reckless than he was — he stresses that he is the only person guilty of mismanagement. "The only mismanagement was from my own will to play," he said. "The doctors did everything they could, and they've done everything they can to help me after footy as well."



In fact, since last September when Bell first lodged concerns with Melbourne's long-serving club doctor, Andrew Daff, that he was experiencing worrying memory loss, the Demons have wanted to support him. It was Dr Daff who directed Bell to the Elite Minds brain-training program the club has offered as a resource to players for some time with which Bell — after committing himself to the online exercises for 15 minutes every second day — has already enjoyed success.



Daff also referred Bell to the neuropsychologist who concluded the former Demon's alarmingly poor cognitive function was linked to the concussions he had sustained playing football. That report now forms the basis of the compensation claim Bell has lodged with the AFL Players' Association.



Bell estimates he was concussed 15 times before he was drafted and as many as 10 times during his time at Melbourne. His first memory of experiencing blurred vision came when he was a child, after he flung himself off a swing and crash-landed. He was concussed playing soccer and tennis, after falling off a motorbike, attempting high jump and in junior footy games all before he was recruited to Melbourne as a 17-year-old, No. 14 draft selection.



His parents, from country South Australia, had insisted on him wearing a helmet in football games. But the hot, restrictive and decidedly uncool headgear had been dispensed with by the time the kid who grew up wanting to be a football or cricket star turned 14.



As a member of the Australian Institute of Sport AFL academy, on account of his outstanding performances at junior level, Bell had rigorous physical examinations before joining the big league. His concussion history, even as a youngster, led to his first appointment with a neurologist who told Bell he appeared to be susceptible to concussion migraines. "No one ever sat down to say this could actually be serious," he recalls. "But I'm not sure if that would have stopped me anyway, I wanted to play AFL."



Equipped with Bell's medical history, the Demons were aware of the raw facts, but until his delistment last year they had no idea of the related problems the defender was experiencing off the field.



Bell's girlfriend, Jayde, who is clearly still deeply concerned about the recent past and the future, recalls the day last year that Bell forgot they had a trailer to move a piece of furniture. This was particularly disturbing because Bell had only recently used the trailer to help a teammate move house.



"That was the time I said, 'You've got to tell a doctor about this'," said Jayde, his girlfriend of four years.

Increasingly, concentration lapses and memory loss have become bigger issues.



"In the last couple of years I found it really hard to concentrate in games. Especially last year. Last year I was all over the shop," Bell said. "It would actually make me feel sick after a game because I'd know about the mistakes I'd made, because my opponent had got too many possessions or whatever. I'd think about it the whole week, dreading the meetings because I knew it was going to come up. I'd be asked about my poor positioning at stoppages and I just couldn't give an answer because I didn't know why I hadn't done something.



"I'd feel physically ill for most of the week and that was pretty much most of the last two years. It's actually a pretty big relief not to be on a list now because I don't have that big weight over me that I'm always doing something wrong with my decisions."



Bell would feel more comfortable if his compensation claim could be settled in the same discreet fashion in which it was prepared and adds that it would have felt considerably easier to pursue if it was the AFL, and not his former club, that stood to foot the bill.



But Bell has chosen to detail his experience because he believes it can have a positive ending.



Upon learning the full detail of Bell's condition, Melbourne put him in touch with Duncan Ferguson, a Demons supporter and co-founder of cognitive assessment and training enterprise Elite Minds.



Bell has been using the company's computerised brain-training and rehabilitation programs for the past five months and last week, when he visited the same neuropsychologist that gave him a bleak early appraisal, his test scores — particularly related to memory, concentration and task-switching skills — were markedly improved.



But given the battering his brain took over so many years and the specialised medical diagnosis he now has to measure the damage that has been done, Bell wouldn't be so naive to think a miracle like a quick fix exists.