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High-flying Matos overcomes serious eye injury to dominate for Lancers

Friday, May, 16 By Alan Siegel
Staff writer

As an intern at Andover's Putnam Investments, Jeffrey Matos gave a presentation on risk and reward. The Lawrence High senior is well versed in the subject, and not just in the financial sense.

Last winter, a detached retina robbed him of peripheral vision in his left eye. Sports became perilous. Even volleyball, a noncontact sport, posed a risk. But the reward was too great to give it up.

"Volleyball has always been my passion," Matos said. "When I play, I forget about everything else. I get in a zone."

At times, his confidence waned. His basketball career flatlined. Still, he tried to remain upbeat.

"Whatever happens," said Jack Sullivan, a retired Andover resident who mentors Matos and other Lawrence athletes, "he will make the best of it."

This spring, he's a middle hitter for the Lancers (13-5), who finish the regular season Monday night at the Merrimack Valley Conference jamboree at Chelmsford High. At 6-foot-3, Matos, a tri-captain, is a tremendous leaper. His spikes often appear powerful enough to leave craters in the gym floor.

"You see the hops on this guy?" coach Tony Hajjar asked with a smile after Matos racked up 15 kills in Wednesday's defeat of Methuen.

"I love volleyball," Matos said. "Even if I get hurt, I'm never going to quit."

At one point, it looked like he may have to.

February of his junior year, while fighting for a rebound during basketball practice, a teammate's elbow slammed into the top of his head like a Whac-A-Mole mallet. Other than the initial impact, Matos didn't feel any pain. As the days passed, however, he could see less and less out of his left eye.

About a week later, he said, his vision had been reduced to a single, fuzzy beam of light in the shape of a slice of pizza.

Matos headed to the hospital, where an examination revealed a retinal detachment. The odds of a head bump causing such an injury, a doctor told Matos, are about 1 in 1,000. More trauma, he was told, could aggravate the condition.  

"I thought my (sports) career was over," he said. "If you lose your vision, it's one thing you may never get back."

...

Matos had invasive surgery to correct the problem. It sidelined him for three months, shortening his volleyball season. By this winter, he was fitted for protective eyewear.

Matos was uncomfortable from the outset. Decreased vision resulted in defensive struggles. Without the ability to see to his left, help-side defense gave him fits.

"Not being able to do what I was doing before," he said, "it killed my confidence."

It was agonizing, he said. After some early-season deliberation, he decided to leave the basketball team. The cost of potentially reinjuring his eye, he said, outweighed the benefits of staying on in a small role.

The risk was likely greater than the reward.

"His own expectations of himself are very high," Sullivan said. "With the eye injury, he just couldn't perform at the level he wanted to."

By March, Matos was ready for volleyball. If he was worried about his injury, well, Hajjar said, "He didn't show it."

Sullivan isn't surprised by Matos' poise.

"He's very easy to talk to. He has a very solid sense of things," Sullivan said. "There was more to him than the average kid."

Matos had to mature at an early age. His parents, he said, are not in the picture. He lives with a family friend. Once a week, he and Sullivan meet.

"He's kind of like a second father to me," Matos said.

Matos' work habits, Sullivan said, are excellent. His risk and reward presentation last year wowed the employees at Putnam.

"He was fantastic," said Sullivan, who picked up Matos at his home and drove him to work on a regular basis. "He was always on time, he did all the work. They were impressed."

The hard work doesn't end there.

He's helped build houses for Habitat for Humanity. He's also spent afternoons picking strawberries designated for local homeless shelters.

Matos plans on working at Putnam this summer before enrolling at Northern Essex Community College in September. After two years, he hopes to transfer to a four-year school.

His life hasn't gone exactly as planned. His eyesight isn't as good as it used to be, but it could be worse. He doesn't take that fact for granted.

"Not everybody has the opportunity to have vision for life," Matos said. "I'm fortunate."

One thing's certain. Whatever happens next, he will make the best of it.