First there was Marcus Trescothick, sleepless in a hotel in India, shuddering out of an England tour, and abandoning what could have been a brilliant career. Then Mike Yardy, a world Twenty20 winner suddenly laid low. Several past and present England internationals have followed suit. The reasons they cite are various: stress, homesickness, even “going cuckoo”. But the catch-all term that physicians prefer is more familiar: depression.
Now Jonathan Trott, for four years the embodiment of the self-absorbed sporting hardman, left Australia on Monday after one Test of the Ashes series. “Trotty has been suffering from a stress-related condition for quite a while,” said his coach, Andy Flower. “I don’t feel it is right that I’m playing knowing that I’m not 100% and I cannot currently operate at the level I have done in the past,” said Trott himself. We cannot know yet the exact nature of his indisposition; his sudden departure suggests a serious setback.
It also raises a broader question. Does cricket have a problem? Is there something about the game, the combination of luck, bloody-mindedness, unpredictability and caprice that can drive a person over the edge?
A survey earlier this year conducted by the benevolent fund of the Professional Cricketers Association (PCA) asked 500 cricketers present and past a range of questions about mental and physical health. It found 5% of those surveyed had sought help for mental health problems. The global figure is roughly equivalent: depression is a condition that affects about 5% of the world’s population, according to the World Health Organisation. That’s 350 million people.
It’s often said that cricket is a game played in the head. But how much of the fitness regimes, the net practice, the tactical and strategic preparations are concerned with what a player is thinking about?
Isn’t batting “trying to do the undoable”? You stand 22 yards away from a bowler, armed with a 4in-wide piece of wood and try to hit a 5oz piece of cork and leather travelling at 90 miles per hour. Again and again. No two balls are the same. Your livelihood rests on the outcome.
Or what about bowling? You must hurl a ball, with a straight arm please and from a rather exact position, 22 yards, making it land in the same place every time, with sufficient guile, pace, or other sleight of hand to avoid the destructive impulses of the batsman. You must do this again and again and again. Sometimes when you do it well, you will get little reward. And sometimes, when you do it badly, you will get lucky. Just not often enough to make a career out of it.
The sudden rash of mental health cases may be due to the fact that because the modern player can afford to be more open. In the past people just kept quiet, but now sports psychology has come a long way.
This, one must hope, will be the case with Trott, whatever the nature of his sudden difficulties. That he will work through them, supported by peers and mentors, but more importantly friends and family. Hopefully, he will return to action soon, stronger and hungrier after a spell of rest and treatment.