Snooker and stepping up for Doddie Aid: Nigel’s story
Nigel, who is living with MND, is now one of the world’s leading disabled snooker players. By taking part in Doddie Aid, he hopes to show that any movement counts.
Thursday, 15 January 2026
Doddie Aid, MND stories
This January, Nigel Brasier will be clocking up miles for Doddie Aid 2026 - not by running, walking or cycling - but by playing snooker.
Nigel, who is 56-years-old and from Spalding in Lincolnshire, is living with motor neuron disease (MND), and he is now one of the world’s leading disabled snooker players. By taking part in Doddie Aid, our mass participation fundraising event, Nigel hopes to raise money for vital MND research and show that movement - in any form - counts.
A former Sunday league footballer, Nigel was just 35 when he first sensed something was wrong. Chasing an over-hit pass during a match, his usual reactions simply "weren’t there".
Then when at work in a factory, he started tripping over equipment and falling without warning. Doctors initially put it down to old football injuries - wear and tear from years on the pitch. But appointment after appointment brought no answers.
It took seven years of uncertainty and often invasive testing, including lumbar puncture, an EMG (a fine needle inserted into the muscles), and a circulation test because he kept feeling cold, before Nigel finally received his MND diagnosis.
He said: “What I had at the time was rare, so it took longer to diagnose. There’s still a lack of knowledge and understanding, but particularly then. It was immensely frustrating. I went to the doctors year on year knowing something was wrong, but they couldn’t give me more information. Even though there’s little to nothing they can do, you need to know if you’ll be okay or not.”
Eventually, Nigel was told he had Primary Lateral Sclerosis (PLS), a slower progressing form of MND that affects mobility, but offers no clear indication of how the disease will advance.
“They gave me a leaflet and told me it was a form of motor neuron disease,” he says. “The only person I knew who had it was Stephen Hawking. This was before Doddie Weir or Rob Burrow. That’s when I broke down. I said, ‘Don’t tell me any more.’”
The Dad-of-three sat in his car for an hour in silence afterwards, trying to absorb the news.
I was absolutely numb, I didn’t know if I was going to live or die. I had to work out how to tell my wife and my three kids. My whole life changed that day.
Nigel tried to carry on working but as his mobility deteriorated - he moved from using a walking stick to metal ankle-foot splints - he eventually left his job following redundancy.
Refusing to give up, Nigel took on volunteering roles in local hospitals, pushing through fatigue, muscle twitching and balance problems that are now a part of everyday life.
Then came a turning point, at a chance meeting in a snooker club in Boston, Lincolnshire. Nigel, a fan of snooker since the 1980s, met disability player Joe Hardstaff, who encouraged him to enter World Disability Billiards and Snooker events.
“I walked into my first tournament in Northampton and spent more time looking around than playing,” Nigel comments. “People with one arm, wheelchair users, players who couldn’t see or hear well. It was inspiring. I lost in the quarter finals, but it didn’t matter, I was hooked.”
Six years on, Nigel - whose nickname is ‘The Brave’ - is one of the most recognisable faces on the disability snooker circuit. He has visited countries around the world, including representing the UK at the World Ability Games in Thailand, competing for the World Championships, and reaching finals at the Hull Open, German Open and Irish Open. Last month, he finished runner-up in the Challenge Cup final at the 2025 World Championships, again in Thailand. He plays up to 15 hours a week and competes in the Spalding Snooker League against players capable of scoring centuries.
“Snooker has become therapy as much as competition,” he says. “It helps me focus, and makes me feel alive. Disability snooker is one massive family - everyone looks out for each other."
People call me inspirational, but I didn’t choose this path, it found me. When I was diagnosed I didn’t know if I’d sink or swim, somehow, I found myself floating. I couldn’t do it without the support of my wife Joanne, and children Rhys, Rian, and Annabelle - they’re my rock.
A career highlight for Nigel came earlier in the year when he and other disabled players were invited to mark the 40th anniversary of 1985 Champion Dennis Taylor’s black-ball final win over Steve Davis in Sheffield. Nigel played at the Winter Gardens behind presenter Hazel Irvine during the BBC’s live coverage, and later toured the famous Crucible Theatre, where he managed to persuade organisers to make the MND Association the chosen charity for the event.
Alongside competing, Nigel has raised more than £25,000 for MND causes through his own annual tournaments, including £1,795 for Lincolnshire MND Group - with the help of former world number eight Joe Perry - through a Six Red charity day at the snooker ace’s club in Cambridgeshire. In 2023, he even met Princess Anne through his fundraising work.
Despite dedicating so much of his time to fundraising, Nigel is in need of his own support to enable him to keep competing. With the cost of travelling to tournaments running into thousands of pounds each year, he is searching for sponsors to help him keep playing the sport he loves.
“Snooker means the world to me,” he says. “When I’m on the table, I forget I have MND - it’s an amazing feeling. If I can’t find a sponsor though, my next trip to Thailand could be my last.”
But no matter what happens, Nigel will be clocking up his miles for Doddie Aid 2026 around the snooker table, whilst proudly wearing the Doddie Weir tartan waistcoat he competes in.
“I’m not Scottish,” Nigel says, “but MND transcends nationality. Doddie lived with the same disease I have. His attitude - not accepting his MND diagnosis, standing up, and making something happen - that inspires me. Anyone can take part in Doddie Aid. You don’t need to climb mountains. A mile round the block or a few steps between snooker shots - it all counts.”
Nigel joins tens of thousands of participants across the UK and beyond who are logging their miles for Doddie Aid and MND research.
“I want to show people that even with a horrible diagnosis like MND, you can still live well in the time you have,” he says. “If anybody takes any message from this, it should be that.”
To learn more about Doddie Aid visit our Doddie Aid page.