Showing posts with label Cricket. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cricket. Show all posts

Tuesday, 21 June 2011

Going on the record with depression.

I have a lot of respect for Marcus Trescothick, the one-time England international cricketer whose career was so affected by his depression.

I have three chronic conditions. I am a Type 2 diabetic. However, with medication and no more attention to my way of life than any man my age should bear in mind, the condition is managed. I have ME, which is a damnable condition that has reduced the scope of my abilities to a frustratingly low level. However, with care, I can just about steer a course around it. Then there is depression. Being clinically depressed is indescribably awful. Dread, fear, suicidal imagery are constantly there, life loses all its joy and colour. It cripples and intimidates. It is the condition I have that genuinely frightens me, and I know I am more than a little obsessive about monitoring my moods.

So, I'm in awe of Marcus Trescothick's ability to open up on the topic.

Here's an article in the Guardian about him. Trescothick has written a book giving an account of his experience. I'm embarrassed to say I haven't read it yet, but I plan to put that right soon. It would seem to cumpulsory reading for anyone with, or with an interest in, clinical depression. Important stuff - this is an illness that kills and causes misery for far too many.

Friday, 7 August 2009

Headingley

I though I'd spend a day listening to the cricket. As a Yorkshireman, I consider Headingley to be a spiritual home, and memories of Willis and Botham putting the Australians to the sword years ago still warm the memory.

However, the rosy glow didn't last long. England's batting hardly lasted for as long as it takes to say "England Batting Collapse". Then it got even worse. The ineptitude of England's batting paled in comparison to the utter cluelessness of the bowling. The slender England score was overtaken for the loss of only one Aussie wicket as the bowlers persistently bowled short and seemed unable to learn from their mistakes as the ball flew to the boundary in all directions.

Ponting's just got himself out , but it's all too late, I fear.