He was gone.

You brought him back.

Into life.

It was the image that shaped the first week of this European Championship: the Christian Eriksen case.

Not only did his heart stand still, an entire stadium, yes, the entire football world held its breath.

For a moment.

It was a shock to me too.

But above all: a déjà vu.

I was brought back to life by Ray Killick, our physio at the traditional English club Bradford Park Avenue.

"He's dead!

He's fucking dead “, were his words back then.

It was Boxing Day 2002, Boxing Day.

A cold, windy December day.

With Bradford Park Avenue we played against HarrogateTown in the Northern Premier League.

After about half an hour Clayton Donaldson sprinted towards my goal after a through pass, I ran out of my box and was faster on the ball, he wanted to jump over me but hit my chest with his knee when he fell.

A blow like lightning.

Immediately I was breathless.

I got up again, but immediately collapsed again.

A knockout!

"He's dead!

He's fucking dead! “, He is said to have shouted that over and over again.

That's what my teammates told me later.

Supervisors brought my girlfriend at the time to the court, she was just pregnant and should probably see me one last time.

There wasn't a defibrillator on the field back then, but our physiotherapist gave first aid courses in England and brought me back to life through mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

When the ambulance came and the doctors put an oxygen mask on me, among other things, my condition stabilized.

Even so, I was in a coma for more than two hours.

Strike the solar plexus

Such a blow to the solar plexus often leads to a chain reaction.

In my case, both lungs had collapsed, and once they are flat, things get sticky.

For me it led to a cardiac arrest, I no longer had a pulse.

Just like Christian Eriksen on Saturday a week ago.

I followed the game in the ZDF studio with Peter Hyballa, Per Mertesacker and Christoph Kramer - and the pictures did something to me.

For me the pictures of his collapse were pure stress.

Because they reminded me of my accident almost 20 years ago.

Typical case of déjà vu.

Traumatic.

When I watched Eriksen fall, I quickly realized that something bad must have happened. That was a terrible situation, but one that subsequently - even if it sounds strange - showed how beautiful and fair football can be. What the Danes did on the pitch already makes them European champions of hearts for me. And Simon Kjær is the face of this tournament. I can't even imagine what must have been going through his head.

He has been friends with Eriksen for years, both currently live in Milan and play for Inter and AC. Kjær was one of the first to stand with his friend, he was careful not to choke his tongue, he put him on his side with his own hands, asked his teammates to set up a kind of protective wall around Eriksen and then himself taken care of his girlfriend. Kjær is not only a good player, but above all a special person and that's why he is the captain of his team. And that evening he was like a big brother.