In 2004 Steve Harmison was the No.1 bowler in world cricket and one of the very fastest. But in private, he was facing a battle off the field.
“…and I’m sure, I’ve got no doubt… before Marcus, I reckon there were probably 100 Steve Harmisons, who just, kept it in, kept it in, kept it in, and didn’t want to be the first one”.
His searing pace and snarling bounce saw him lead the attack for one of England’s greatest-ever Test sides, alongside his great friend Andrew ‘Freddie’ Flintoff.
Together they etched their name in cricket folklore, with starring roles in perhaps England’s greatest-ever Test series – a victory for the ages against a star-studded cast of Australians in 2005.
However, both men have since revealed that alongside their many compelling and enthralling battles on the field, they were also fighting a much more silent one, hidden away from public view.
After years of playing through an anxiety he was yet to understand, Harmison recalled to me the moment when he was no longer able to ignore the pain inside him.
It was public knowledge that he struggled to travel overseas.
Yet Harmison had absolutely no intention of revealing his problems amounted to anything more serious than homesickness.
Harmison feared England would never select him again if the team management or media ever heard of the full extent of what he was suffering.
A watershed moment
In 2008, however, “came a game-changing” moment, in the words of Harmison. Another of his teammates, Marcus Trescothick, released an autobiography.
It went on to win the William Hill Sports Book of the Year Award.
The book detailed Trescothick’s own intense struggles, diagnosis, and treatment process for clinical depression.
It was described by the award’s judges as a book that “tackled one of the great taboos of team sport.”
Here’s Trescothick on his feelings just before releasing his story to the world.
Four years earlier, England Cricket hired a new team doctor from Manchester United, called Mike Stone, who Harmison visited that summer.
Only when Stone externally referred Harmison to a doctor at The Manchester Priory did Harmison realise that he was struggling with a physical illness.
A key initiator in English cricket’s mental health reformation was former Surrey and Warwickshire all-rounder Jason Ratcliffe, who joined the Professional Cricketers Association during Harmison’s career.
Under Ratcliffe, the PCA launched a series of initiatives, beginning in 2005 with Addictive Behaviour Programmes aimed at educating players on alcohol, drugs, and gambling addictions, all of which had affected Ratcliffe’s former teammates.
Later the same year, a 24-hour confidential helpline opened, allowing players to speak to a specialist at the Sporting Chance Clinic, a charity set up by former Arsenal captain Tony Adams.
Locker room chat
Due to the nature of the dressing rooms, he experienced as a player, Ratcliffe saw the helpline as an absolute necessity for cricketers to be able to access.
He describes dressing rooms as “typically gossip mills” with personal information typically surging around payer groups, often leaking through to opposition teams.
Steve Harmison says the measures put in place by the PCA marked a serious turning point both for cricket and British sport.
Following Trescothick’s publicity, the PCA would create video tutorials, that featured Trescothick as well as other players who had since shared their own experiences of depression.
They included Graeme Fowler, Andrew Flintoff, Michael Yardy and Monty Panesar.
Former England batter and renowned sports psychologist Jeremy Snape believes that the testimonies of former players were an essential ingredient for progress.
Work still to do
It’s certainly still not the case however that all players in today’s game suddenly feel safe to share their feelings with their teammates.
Ratcliffe, who now represents and mentors current players, said he knows of at least one “high-profile figure” in the modern game who “refuses to be open about” his mental health struggles, as he’s “not sure how he’ll be received” by teammates or the media.
Steve Harmison told me he believes cultures and behaviour within dressing rooms themselves can be a strong deterrent to openness.
It’s partly the reason why Harmison will always hold Trescothick in such high regard, as the man who showed him it was possible to speak up.
“I didn’t think, I was big enough to stand up and speak, but Marcus did, and for that, he’ll always be a hero of mine. For three or four years I held it back. I couldn’t be the first one. Did I perform less? probably. But I still got myself in a position to play cricket. Marcus couldn’t, but for me, that makes him even more of a hero because of it.”
What’s changed today?
Now the England men’s batting coach, Trescothick reveals that the current set-up takes a much more proactive approach to mental health support than in his playing days.
Test match special reporter Eleanor Oldroyd says there’s also been a significant shift in the way the cricketing media responds to players taking their mental welfare seriously.
The agony and then bravery of individual players have taught English cricket some serious lessons about mental welfare.
And their openness has led to my generation of cricket fans having a deeper level of mental health conversation than others before us.
It would be near-unthinkable to confuse Ben Stokes’ break from the game in 2021 as a sign of weakness.
The voices of these players have influenced their sport and wider public and with the current Test captain continuing the chain, there are promising signs that English cricket will continue to develop as a space where it’s safe to talk.
Submitted Article
Headline
Short Headline
Standfirst
Published Article
HeadlineHeads and Tales: How English cricket learned to take depression seriously
Short HeadlineHarmison: 'Hundreds' suffered in silence
StandfirstThe years of agony and moments of bravery that reinvented England cricket's approached to player welfare.
“Something had to break…”
In 2004 Steve Harmison was the No.1 bowler in world cricket and one of the very fastest. But in private, he was facing a battle off the field.
“…and I’m sure, I’ve got no doubt… before Marcus, I reckon there were probably 100 Steve Harmisons, who just, kept it in, kept it in, kept it in, and didn’t want to be the first one”.
His searing pace and snarling bounce saw him lead the attack for one of England’s greatest-ever Test sides, alongside his great friend Andrew ‘Freddie’ Flintoff.
Together they etched their name in cricket folklore, with starring roles in perhaps England’s greatest-ever Test series – a victory for the ages against a star-studded cast of Australians in 2005.
However, both men have since revealed that alongside their many compelling and enthralling battles on the field, they were also fighting a much more silent one, hidden away from public view.
After years of playing through an anxiety he was yet to understand, Harmison recalled to me the moment when he was no longer able to ignore the pain inside him.
It was public knowledge that he struggled to travel overseas.
Yet Harmison had absolutely no intention of revealing his problems amounted to anything more serious than homesickness.
Harmison feared England would never select him again if the team management or media ever heard of the full extent of what he was suffering.
A watershed moment
In 2008, however, “came a game-changing” moment, in the words of Harmison. Another of his teammates, Marcus Trescothick, released an autobiography.
It went on to win the William Hill Sports Book of the Year Award.
The book detailed Trescothick’s own intense struggles, diagnosis, and treatment process for clinical depression.
It was described by the award’s judges as a book that “tackled one of the great taboos of team sport.”
Here’s Trescothick on his feelings just before releasing his story to the world.
Four years earlier, England Cricket hired a new team doctor from Manchester United, called Mike Stone, who Harmison visited that summer.
Only when Stone externally referred Harmison to a doctor at The Manchester Priory did Harmison realise that he was struggling with a physical illness.
A key initiator in English cricket’s mental health reformation was former Surrey and Warwickshire all-rounder Jason Ratcliffe, who joined the Professional Cricketers Association during Harmison’s career.
Under Ratcliffe, the PCA launched a series of initiatives, beginning in 2005 with Addictive Behaviour Programmes aimed at educating players on alcohol, drugs, and gambling addictions, all of which had affected Ratcliffe’s former teammates.
Later the same year, a 24-hour confidential helpline opened, allowing players to speak to a specialist at the Sporting Chance Clinic, a charity set up by former Arsenal captain Tony Adams.
Locker room chat
Due to the nature of the dressing rooms, he experienced as a player, Ratcliffe saw the helpline as an absolute necessity for cricketers to be able to access.
He describes dressing rooms as “typically gossip mills” with personal information typically surging around payer groups, often leaking through to opposition teams.
Steve Harmison says the measures put in place by the PCA marked a serious turning point both for cricket and British sport.
Following Trescothick’s publicity, the PCA would create video tutorials, that featured Trescothick as well as other players who had since shared their own experiences of depression.
They included Graeme Fowler, Andrew Flintoff, Michael Yardy and Monty Panesar.
Former England batter and renowned sports psychologist Jeremy Snape believes that the testimonies of former players were an essential ingredient for progress.
Work still to do
It’s certainly still not the case however that all players in today’s game suddenly feel safe to share their feelings with their teammates.
Ratcliffe, who now represents and mentors current players, said he knows of at least one “high-profile figure” in the modern game who “refuses to be open about” his mental health struggles, as he’s “not sure how he’ll be received” by teammates or the media.
Steve Harmison told me he believes cultures and behaviour within dressing rooms themselves can be a strong deterrent to openness.
It’s partly the reason why Harmison will always hold Trescothick in such high regard, as the man who showed him it was possible to speak up.
“I didn’t think, I was big enough to stand up and speak, but Marcus did, and for that, he’ll always be a hero of mine. For three or four years I held it back. I couldn’t be the first one. Did I perform less? probably. But I still got myself in a position to play cricket. Marcus couldn’t, but for me, that makes him even more of a hero because of it.”
What’s changed today?
Now the England men’s batting coach, Trescothick reveals that the current set-up takes a much more proactive approach to mental health support than in his playing days.
Test match special reporter Eleanor Oldroyd says there’s also been a significant shift in the way the cricketing media responds to players taking their mental welfare seriously.
The agony and then bravery of individual players have taught English cricket some serious lessons about mental welfare.
And their openness has led to my generation of cricket fans having a deeper level of mental health conversation than others before us.
It would be near-unthinkable to confuse Ben Stokes’ break from the game in 2021 as a sign of weakness.
The voices of these players have influenced their sport and wider public and with the current Test captain continuing the chain, there are promising signs that English cricket will continue to develop as a space where it’s safe to talk.
Inside Success Union CIC claim to empower vulnerable young people, but allegations of underpayment and concerns over their fundraising practices are undermining their message.