Graham Thorpe's tragic death was a reminder of cricket's uncomfortable relationship with mental health... it should encourage the opening of lots of difficult conversations, writes RICHARD GIBSON

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In the days following the devastating loss of one of this country’s greatest and most loved cricketers, an email found its way into the inboxes of the current England team revisiting the avenues of support available to them should they feel the need to talk.

Many of them were extremely fond of Graham Thorpe, and he them. His decision to take his own life has impacted every corner of English cricket, most notably those of a dressing room he graced 100 times as a Test player and on dozens of other occasions as a coach.

This was a reminder projected beyond their immediate grief of cricket’s uncomfortable relationship with mental health. Not a subject modern men - particularly those dwelling in alpha male environments - feel overly comfortable speaking about. However, as the Thorpe family have addressed so candidly and bravely since the loss of their treasured husband, father, brother and son, there is one thing worse. Not speaking about it.

To its credit, English cricket has been active in this area, encouraging individuals to lighten their burdens by sharing them. Five years ago, the ECB asked Mark Saxby, their popular long-serving massage therapist, to take on extra responsibilities relating to well-being around the England environment, there is direct access to psychologists and a confidential hotline run in conjunction with the players’ union is available 24-7.

Cricket accepts it has a deep-rooted problem with depression, but Thorpe’s premature death has placed it firmly back into focus. Indeed, his 22-year-old daughter Kitty did so much to de-stigmatize the illness earlier this week when she said in a moving interview in the Times they were not ashamed to address the demons that plagued him.

Former England cricketer Graham Thorpe died earlier this month at the age of 55 

In September 2017, Thorpe was presented with a silver cap to commemorate his 100 Tests

Sadly, these demons have got the better of far too many of his predecessors as professional cricketers too.

As far back as 2001, David Frith’s Silence of the Heart examined the phenomenon of suicides in cricket, concluding that its players were almost twice as likely to kill themselves as the average male and that its suicide rate was higher than any other sport.

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The question is: why? It is one with many answers, but ultimately, at its core the gentleman’s game is a game of failure. Consider a batsman’s lot. The low scores far out-number the high. Noughts more common than hundreds. It is a test of psychological as well as physical endurance.

As one England player, who did not not want to be named, said: ‘I’ve always thought of the brain as being a bit like a muscle. You put it under stress every day. Computing a shit shot one day, great ball the next. It is placed under extreme fatigue through weight of disappointment.’

Unlike their counterparts in football, rugby and golf, batsmen rarely get a chance to atone for a major mistake. Frith concluded that cricket’s unceasing ‘tearing at the nerves’ placed it alongside the post-traumatic stress disorder suffered by war veterans.

Neither is there an obvious escape when a run of poor form hits. Cricket is an individual sport within a team framework, meaning that a dressing room heightens the sense of suffering ‘all alone in this together.’

Thankfully, some have sought help from before it became too late. Marcus Trescothick revealed in his seminal autobiography Coming Back To Me 16 years ago that he had fought on for a couple of days before conceding defeat to stress-related symptoms in the 2006-07 Ashes.

‘I walked in the dressing room, threw my helmet in my bag, and let it all out,’ Trescothick wrote. ‘I began sobbing uncontrollably. I was in a shell. You could have taken my kit, my money, my life..’

Thrope's death is a reminder of cricket's uncomfortable relationship with mental health 

Marcus Trescothick is one of the few figures in cricket to speak up about mental health issues

Words that forced elite sport to recognise that it was no longer ok to suffer in macho silence. To be expected, against your emotions, to engage in some good old-fashioned stiff upper lip.

Cricket’s tendency to institutionalise affects the minds of individuals in varying ways. The long hours (for a first-class match, players can typically be at the ground from nine o’clock in a morning to eight in the evening) and months on the road can be suffocating. Others, like Steve Harmison, have struggled to deal with the feeling of isolation when hotel room doors close at night.

It is also a sport indelibly linked to alcohol. Recreational cricket in this country was founded on matches being analysed by opponents over a beer in the clubhouse after stumps, and this social aspect is replicated all the way to international level.

After a day’s play on tour, stakeholders in the game including broadcasters, journalists and officials flock to the hotel bar. Players are less a part of this convivial scene these days, but wins are still celebrated as they always were.

Alcohol is known for affecting the chemistry of the brain, and can also bring out darker thoughts.

Thorpe’s struggles were triggered by problems in his first marriage to Nicola, causing him to leave the tour of India in 2001 in a bid to salvage it, and he took a break two years later during which he revealed he spent months on his own curtains drawn, drinking and smoking. He said in his own autobiography Rising from the Ashes: ‘There came a time when I would have given back all my Test runs and Test caps just to be happy again.’

As a player, Thorpe is widely considered as one of English cricket's finest ever middle order batsmen - pictured playing against New Zealand in Christchurch in 2002

For some, it is coping with a break from decades of regimented daily routine that they cannot handle. Those who make it to the professional ranks tend to have been talented youths, meaning they have been used to being ferried and fed from secondary school age. Then, one day, they wake up to not be told where to be and when. They’re on their own.

One ex-England international has revealed that hit by this lack of purpose once their playing days were over, their coping mechanism was to make themselves as busy as possible at all times.

Frith’s research at the turn of the century showed that the majority of suicides in the 1980s and 1990s were of players aged between 40-49 who had been forced into retirement.

David Bairstow, father of another 100-cap Test player Jonny Bairstow, was one of them. In A Clear Blue Sky, his touching memoir, Bairstow junior revealed that his dad felt disturbed by his 1990 sacking by Yorkshire a full 12 months afterwards. ‘He was still adamant about the unfairness of it. He was still certain that he ought to be playing. He was still talking about the principles of loyalty,’ he wrote.

Thanks to a willingness to share experiences by people like Bairstow, the ground-breaking Trescothick and Jonathan Trott, cricket is no longer ignorant in its response to those that become mentally unwell.

Indeed, hundreds of people within the cricket community knew of Thorpe’s first attempt to take his own life in May 2022, shortly after losing his England coaching position, but chose to keep it out of the public domain partly out of respect, partly out of a deeper desire for one of the game’s most popular characters to get better.

Mental toughness should not be confused with mental health. Like Thorpe, Ben Stokes was as tough on the field as they come, but did not lack the strength to accept he needed a five-month break in 2021 - a period that followed his father Ged passing away and a frustrating comeback from a fractured finger.

Recognising warning signs is vital. In response to statistics showing that cases of anxiety had risen from 17% to 33% post-lockdown among county cricket’s playing corps, the Professional Cricketers’ Association offered a reminder of the dangers earlier this year.

The campaign - in partnership with equipment manufacturers Masuri and the charity Sporting Chance - saw the PCA distribute helmets to all 18 first-class clubs sporting the slogan ‘There’s no protection from anxiety,” and their 24-hour helpline number.

In 2023, 49 of the 100-plus individuals that made phone calls were active cricketers. Half of them cited anxiety as a primary concern.

‘This prevalence rate amongst cricketers surpasses that of any other sport, notably doubling the prevalence in professional football, and highlights the unique challenges of the sport and the need for easily accessible services for players to address concerns,’ said a PCA spokesperson.

Thorpe also served as England's batting coach, but was sacked back in 2022

Earlier this year, a survey showed that 62% of current male players attributed the relentless nature of the domestic game’s playing schedule as causing them concern from a mental wellbeing perspective, with many critical of the inability to get away from the game during periods of the season.

There is an increasing pressure on county bosses to authorise a reduction in fixtures from next year onwards.

Former Middlesex and Gloucestershire player Tom Lace, now working at Sporting Chance, said: ‘Cricket is unique in terms of the length of games, time away from home, and the individual nature of being at the top of your mark or taking guard, so providing players with the tools to manage this is key.’

An emotional goodbye to one of our greats should encourage the opening of lots of difficult conversations.