‘I’ve got a part of him still living in me – his kidney’: Former Socceroo Stephen Laybutt, the reluctant hero who saved a life

The death of former Socceroo Stephen Laybutt has shocked and saddened many people, but for Ian Pavey it hits different.

Pavey, 69, had been on a waiting list for three years for a kidney transplant that would save his life.

Former Socceroo Stephen Laybutt, left, donated a kidney to Ian Pavey earlier this year.

His wife, Roberta, wanted to give him one, but after months of testing it was deemed incompatible.

Then, in early 2021, he received a text message out of nowhere from Laybutt, who had met Pavey in the rehab unit at St Vincent’s Private Hospital, offering him one of his.

On Monday, Pavey was stunned to hear Laybutt, 46, had been found in bushland on the NSW Far North Coast after he had been reported missing three days earlier.

They had told their story to this masthead in December 2021, a triumph for compassion and helping your fellow man.

Stephen Laybutt playing for the Olyroos in 2000.

“I’ve got a part of him still living in me,” Pavey said. “It’s not only changed my life but my whole family. I’m just in shock, really. For me, I have all these images of Steve running through my head. There’s more to the man than sport.”

Laybutt, who played 15 matches for the Socceroos from 2000 to 2004, had travelled from Sydney to Casuarina, north of Byron Bay, to visit friends on Friday. Police were alerted on Saturday morning when he could not be contacted.

A report will be prepared for the coroner and his death is not being treated as suspicious.

Laybutt did not think he had a story to tell when a close friend reached out to me in November 2021.

He’d gone through a painful journey himself, having hidden his homosexuality as a footballer playing alongside the likes of Lucas Neill, Harry Kewell, Tim Cahill and Craig Foster while bouncing from club to club in Europe and Australia.

When I interviewed him at a Kings Cross pub over a quiet beer, though, the words came tumbling out.

“You think you’re going to come out and life’s going to be good,” he told me. “I finished my career, then came out, and I spiralled out of control for a while. I was just lost, thinking everything would be sweet because I came out … My sexuality had a massive effect on my career. I wish I’d played in a World Cup – but it was still a half decent career.”

In 2019, Laybutt started working in the gym at St Vincent’s and that’s where he met Pavey, who had undergone a knee replacement but had more pressing concerns with his failing kidneys.

‘After the operation, I was in a private room in the public hospital, just sitting there in disbelief that someone had actually done this for me.’

Ian Pavey

“He’d visit me when I was having dialysis in the evenings after he finished work,” Pavey recalled. “He’d visit me on the way home just to have a chat, to cheer someone up.”

At 2.05pm on Sunday, February 28, 2021, Pavey received a text message.

“Hey mate it’s Steve from St Vincent’s,” it said. “I want to investigate if I could give you a kidney. Consider it please.”

Pavey was shocked. He didn’t have Laybutt’s number in his phone.

“Who is this?” he replied.

When I asked Laybutt why he would donate a vital organ to someone he barely knew, he seemed confused by the question. Here was another human in need of help. Life-changing help. Why wouldn’t he help him?

“I just liked his attitude,” Laybutt said. “He was always positive. I thought, ‘I should help this guy’. People have asked me what the thought process was behind it. I just thought it was the right thing to do.”

Laybutt had a raft of tests, both physical and mental, before the transplant was permitted.

“They look for reasons not to do it,” he said. “I just happened to have two good kidneys. Then a psychologist ripped me apart for two hours, asking, ‘Why are you doing this?’ You go back through childhood trauma. This guy went for the throat. It was quite good. I thought, ‘Can I see you every week?’”

After the transplant, Laybutt was in a great pain.

“But the kidney took straight away. Ian was doing better than me initially, which happens, but I was up and about after three days.”

Elsewhere in the hospital, Pavey felt brand new.

“After the operation, I was in a private room in the public hospital, just sitting there in disbelief that someone had actually done this for me,” he said. “I knew he was a Socceroos player, but I’m a rugby fan. I supposed I’ll have to change codes. We will be bonded for life.”

Pavey remains in good health and the story received an overwhelming response.

“It would blow people away,” Pavey said. “After the story appeared, it went around the world. That showed what a great thing it was that he did. But the story’s not about me, it’s about him.”

After the operation, Pavey and Laybutt stayed in touch.

“I’d drop into St Vincent’s and have a sandwich with him now and then,” Pavey said. “We didn’t live in each other’s pockets. We’d send texts. Sometimes, he wouldn’t text back, sometimes he would.

“I would watch him at the gym: he was all over everyone and doing whatever he could for … He was like that in the gym. He’d talk to people, always had a laugh, always a practical joker. He had a great, fun heart.”

Crisis support is available from Lifeline on 13 11 14.

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