Football’s fatal blind spot: ‘ML’ Adams’ family want medical support at community games legislated

Emmanuel “ML” Adams left home on that Saturday afternoon thinking about winning a football match. By nightfall, his family would be shattered by a loss they are still struggling to comprehend and overcome.

The 32-year-old soldier collapsed to the turf of the Mahaica Sporting Complex in Point Fortin after the first half of a Community Football League (CFL) match on 16 August 2025.

As worried teammates looked on, a coach, who had CPR training, and a nurse who was watching the game, assisted.

However, there was no ambulance, no medical team, and no defibrillator to bridge the unimaginable gap between life and death. Strangers and friends tried desperately to revive him with CPR. Help never arrived.

Now his family, led by his sister who lives thousands of miles away in the UK, wants answers—and change.

“It was very sudden and traumatic,” his sister, Natasha Adams, told Wired868, from her home in Britain. “He was only 32 years of age. It has left a deep void in our lives. His presence is irreplaceable.”

Adams described the trauma of the late-night call and the distressing news.

“Getting that call while being away, in the middle of the night, that he has collapsed on the field while playing football, and it’s not looking good, and feeling so helpless,” she said, “[…] it has been really devastating and something that I’m still struggling to come to terms with.”

She said her mother, Marilyn Adams, is inconsolable.

“That’s her last son; her last child, and she never thought that this was something that she would have to deal with in her lifetime. She is, as well, struggling to cope.”

ML’s wife and six-year-old son now face life without him.

“He was everything to his son,” Adams said. “Now it’s just a huge void, and something that we are trying to come to terms with. It’s tough.”

In the hours before the chaotic scenes at the Mahaica Sporting Complex, Emmanuel “ML” Adams was himself—relaxed, focused, and quietly confident ahead of his match for Fyzabad Sporting Club against La Brea All Stars.

“On the field, his friends saw him as the ML he was before in his younger days—no one could pass him,” said Adams.

Then, without warning, the evening turned down a dark alley.

“At the end of the first half, they (the players) started to walk off the field,” Adams said, “One of the friends who was in the stands heard somebody say, ‘Look a man down, look a man on the ground.’

“He realised it was ML when he saw the boots—I had sent those boots for him. He had really liked it.”

What unfolded next still haunts the Adams family.

“There was a coach who was doing CPR and a spectator who identified herself as a nurse—she came and said, ‘He still has a pulse’,” said Adams. “[But] there was no defib.

“That same person said they revived him twice. [ML] opened his eyes. He looked around, and he was gasping. They stopped the CPR, and then he went back unconscious.”

Adams says there was no medical team, no ambulance, and no medical equipment.

“In the whole melee that was happening, somebody said to bring a van on the field,” she said.

They were prevented from bringing a vehicle on the field, with an unidentified official allegedly saying it would damage the pitch.

“When they noticed that they were not getting him to revive, they used a folding table, put him on it, escorted him off the field, and then into a vehicle, and then to Point Fortin Hospital,” she said. “There was no defib, there was no ambulance, no vehicle was allowed.

“Each minute counted, and it led to his unfortunate demise, which has caused us a lot of pain.”

A registered nurse working in the UK, Adams still does not know when her brother died—and this has brought more torment to her.

“What they told me is that when he got to the hospital, he was still unconscious and they were trying to intubate him,” she said. “They said he died at the hospital because they were still getting a pulse. Eyewitnesses said they think that he died on the field… only a medical professional could say that.”

In the weeks after Emmanuel’s death, Adams began searching for answers.

On 23 October, she wrote to the Trinidad and Tobago Football Association (TTFA) president, Kieron Edwards, requesting an official inquiry into the events that led to her brother’s death.

“Since his passing, no one has come forward to provide any clarity or information surrounding the circumstances,” she said. “I asked whether the CFL league was sanctioned by the TTFA and if they were required within that sanctioning to provide medical support at the games.”

There has been no response since then.

Natasha acknowledged the assistance of the Trinidad and Tobago Defence Force (TTDF), where Emmanuel served. She said they rallied around the family and ensured her brother received a full military funeral.

However, there was little contact from football officials.

“TTFA hasn’t reached out to us. Some of the small clubs and teams in and around Fyzabad organised vigils and they would have picked up a contribution and gave it to the family,” she said.

Adams said that while officials from Deportivo Point Fortin did not reach out officially, they sent one of Emmanuel’s friends with cash and a letter of condolence.

“No one actually came and gave any explanation or offered any support or anything like that as to the events that took place,” she said.

From the rawness of grief, purpose has emerged.

Adams realised that her brother’s last moments should not be repeated—not for any player, at any level, on any field.

She has since launched a petition, calling for what she hopes will one day be known as the “Emmanuel Adams Law”.

Adams hopes the legislation will one day make emergency coverage mandatory at all organised sporting events in Trinidad and Tobago.

The idea emerged from talking to people at the wake.

“One person nonchalantly just said, sometimes you rent an ambulance and it may cost $4,000, and it is not going to be used,” she said. “And then he said it is like a lesson learned. This is a life you are talking about, and you just pass it off as nothing.”

Adams recalled her hurt after that exchange.

“You would look at money, saving that money, as opposed to putting things in place. It doesn’t even have to be an athlete; it’s persons who are spending their money to come and spectate.

“You could come down the bleachers and fall and get an injury. How are you safeguarding these people?”

Her petition calls for:

• At least one certified basic life-support responder at every event;
• A defibrillator and emergency kit on-site;
• Regular emergency drills for organisers;
• First aid and CPR training for club staff;
• Mandatory medical disclosure from players;
• Penalties for organisers who fail to comply.

“What we are looking for is at least one certified basic life-support personnel to be present at every organised event, and as an alternative, an external defibrillator,” Adams said. “Each player should fully disclose to their club’s manager or chairman if they are suffering from any disease or medical condition that may need emergency treatment.”

To her surprise, many people assumed such measures already existed.

“One person also mentioned that they were happy I was doing it, not only for football, but for sporting events,” Adams said.

Support has also come from Point Fortin MP Ernesto Kesar, who has publicly backed the campaign. Adams hopes he will be the one to take the legislation to Parliament.

“He also signed the petition, and I am asking if he can be the one to bring it to the House of Representatives,” she said. “He has given his full support… he said this is something that he has raised concerns about in the past before he became MP.”

Adams has also recently written to Senator David Nakhid, a former national football captain and current minister in the Ministry of Sport and Youth Affairs, seeking his support.

Incidentally, Nakhid has promised to launch the DNA East/ West Corridor Football League, a grassroots competition, from 6 December.

For Adams, her brother’s death is not an isolated tragedy but a symptom of something systemic.

“I’ve been to games already, and most of the time you don’t see any medical support on the sidelines in case anything happens,” she said. “Organisers look at the cost attached to getting these medics, ambulances, or anything… it is definitely something that is placed on the back burner.”

She believes that attitude—a casualness around risk—is costing lives.

“It’s just the culture in Trinidad where if I don’t have to do it and if someone is not over me with a whip and I could get away with it, and I could save money,” she said, “I will do that. But this is people’s lives, and look at the outcome now.”

Adams says that at the end of the process, justice for her brother would be passing the Emmanuel Adams Law and seeing a change in the way health and safety are treated in local sport.

Her family’s grief, she says, must mean something. Accountability matters. Change matters. Her mother’s heartbreak, she adds softly, demands it.

“Also, some sort of accountability as to what happened on that day. Especially for my mom—it is haunting her that this could have been prevented,” she said.

Yet even amid that pain, Adams has been overwhelmed by the love shown for her brother. It is one of the few comforts she carries.

She wants players, coaches, and supporters to understand that safety is not a luxury—it is a right.

“It’s not only about the athlete’s performance on the field, but also about their safety and their access to medical assistance.”

She has noticed the fear that now hangs over local football.

“Some of ML’s friends and coaches have said they have seen a decrease in the numbers of players coming out,” she said. “They are scared as it sheds some light on ML’s fate.”

Adams called for support for the petition because it is about creating accountability and ushering in systemic change, as well as honouring her brother’s life.

“I have the strength to push through and ensure that the change really happens,” she said. “I don’t want ML’s passing to go in vain.

“[He was] someone’s husband, brother, son, father—someone who dedicated his life and love for football.

“And football let him down at the end.”

Sign the petition: https://c.org/TyzjzT2tfJ
Contact: Natasha Adams – intifadaa2@gmail.com