Bradley Lowery Foundation ensures memory of boy who stole nation's hearts lives on in Sunderland

Half past one. Saturday. Match day, and the door to suite number 18 at the Stadium of Light is eased open enough for seven-year-old Charlie Creaser to be pushed through.

“Wow!” he says.

The table is set for a king.

All food is there. Cakes, pastries, pies, cooked meat, chicken… and a tray full of ham that will prove the plateaux’s outstanding performer, at least for Charlie. Mum Michelle and dad Martin push their son into the executive box that used to be the property of Jermain Defoe. Beyond the food is a football stadium and the green field of a boy’s dreams. Another wow and mum and dad speak of being lucky.

“Lucky” will be a word that fills that small room, and there will be a difficult quest for context. These are two people who got told their son had cerebral palsy when he was just 13 months old.

Charlie is dressed for the match; red and white shirt, jeans, white Adidas trainers, and a wheelchair with the club crest over the inside of the tyres. Nothing here to melt your heart.

He is a guest of the Bradley Lowery Foundation. This is the memory of a boy who stole football’s heart. Bradley Lowery fought neuroblastoma, a rare form of cancer, with the courage of a lion. When he finally lost his fight in July, his mum, Gemma, started a charity in his memory. She approached Sunderland about hiring a box at discount, and got Defoe’s old one for nothing, and a red and white carpet to bring other children battling against the misfortunes of life.

Today is Charlie’s turn.

“He was diagnosed when he was 13 months old,” says his mum, Michelle. “He was born 10 weeks premature. On a rating of one to five, five being that he would be able to walk and one that he wouldn’t, he was borderline one and two. They said he would never be able to do very much for himself. They said he wouldn’t be able to feed properly.

“What was it like when I heard that? It was absolutely mortifying.

“He is so determined in what he does. He will watch children on the television with worse cerebral palsy than him and turn to me and say, “I could have been like that mam but I’m quite lucky.’

“There was a fun run at his school, and he said he wanted to do it. He walked one mile in 50 minutes on the day. He just wanted a little medal to say he’d done it.

“He’s seven and he’s had seven operations. He had his seventh last week. They screwed the plates in both sides of his knee last Friday. They said to take his time but within a couple of hours he was walking in his walker.

“He was in traction when he was two. He got sent home with plaster casts on his legs with a metal bar in-between. Then he had his hips done. Then he had calf lengthening.”

Lucky.

“He always wanted to meet Bradley. It was nice to meet Gemma, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who’s so strong. He loved being down the tunnel before kick-off. John O’Shea remembered him. He said, ‘Are you okay little man?’”

Sunderland fall behind early. “We’re going to get relegated again,” says Charlie, but the goal does not deflate the mood for him and his friend Finley. In the 53rd minute their faith is rewarded. Lynden Gooch wins a penalty and then scores it.

Charlie punches the air. It is a huge smile. “I knew we’d be good once!” he shouts. The pair squeal in delight.

Sunderland are not good twice. In the 73rd minute it is Cardiff’s penalty and it is Joe Ralls who scores the winning goal. Finley races to the front of the executive box. “Try harder!” he shouts, but once more it is not Sunderland’s day. A football club sinks into the bottom three of the Championship.

The light inside a stadium is confined to the bravery of people in suite 18.

“Why do I want to help children, with the box, or the foundation?” says Gemma. “I want children to have the experiences in the box that we had with Bradley.

“We felt extremely lucky to get privileged experiences; going to nice places with Bradley. It made us realise we got to make so many special memories, it was fantastic. I will treasure those for the rest of my life.

“It is not weird at all being here. This is where Bradley came alive. This is where he was at his best. He loved being here. Don't get me wrong, when I first started coming here it was horrendously hard. I had panic attacks coming to the club. It wasn’t easy but Brad doesn’t want to see me like that. He wants to see other children enjoy what he enjoyed.”

There is also a desire, still, after everything, to help.

“The foundation’s aim is to help anyone under the age of 18. It is here to fund raise for treatment that is not available on the NHS. It is here to fundraise for equipment that is not government granted.

“I didn't have a clue how to arrange an event. I started off with zero in the bank and over the years we learned so many things and we want to show other people these things.

“No parent should have to deal with having to raise an unheard of amount of money whilst their child is struggling in hospital.”

It seems such a simple starting point.