Firstly, it is time for an anecdote. I am a sports fan, no make that a sports nut, as anyone who knows me will tell you. True, I have less and less time for football these days, but I still follow the game. It was 2003, the early days of the football season in the UK, and at the time I was living in Paris. During a week off, I was wandering through the streets near my apartment and stopped for a coffee. Gary Speed and his wife sat next to me and pulled out a map. I recognised him instantly of course. They were struggling to find an address, and I said, if they were struggling they should feel free to ask as I was British. 15 to 20 minutes later, he insisted on paying for my coffees (we'd all had two) for helping him, shook my hand, thanked me for my help and said how nice it was to have met me. I'm rarely, if ever, starstruck, but for the rest of that day I was. I mentioned it to my girlfriend at the time, who didn't have a clue who he was, but he was the very definition of approachable and I can clearly see why not a single person has had even a remotely bad word to say about him today. Hearing footballing hard nuts reduced to tears on radio and tv has truly brought home what a tragic set of events this is.
May his family come to terms with everything. May his wife and boys understand as well as they can what has happened. May the press, for once, deal with them with the dignity that has been requested.
RIP Gary Speed.
It brings to the fore the whole subject of depression in professional sportsmen. In the recent past there have been several high profile cases of sportsmen struggling to deal with their depression, occasionally but not always linked with the end of their careers. Paul Gascoigne, Stan Collymore, Marcus Trescothick and Michael Yardy are four that spring to mind immediately. The relatively public explosion of Gascoigne is the clearest example of this, but the case of Speed shows that, as with all of these things the tip of the iceberg may be the most public case, but under the surface, many more people suffer in silence, and these are the most dangerous cases. Everyone knows Gascoigne's difficulties and is alert to his situation, watching his every move and helping as and when required. Speed, the recently departed Peter Roebuck and doubtless many others, are examples of those that, while giving off an air of contentment, are suffering deep down.
I'm baffled as to why Speed felt the need to do this. A talented footballer and nice person, he was becoming a highly-rated Manager, turning round the fortunes of the Welsh National team with every game. The fortunes of the football and rugby teams in recent months, in stark contrast to their English neighbours, had given Wales a feelgood factor rarely felt in the past 2 decades. A lovely wife, 2 young kids growing up to be good footballers also, job security working for the country he so passionately played for. It's incredibly difficult to comprehend.
I think it's fair to say I'm qualified to comment here. I've suffered in silence with depression in the past. I struggled to admit exactly what I was going through, but managed to fight my way out of it with the help of some good friends and my family. I am happy to say I never got into a situation like Gary Speed obviously did. While depressed, I never ever felt self-destructive, but I can understand how things can well up until the dam bursts.
I've read books and watched documentaries by some leading lights in various fields on this subject (Stephen Fry and Marcus Trescothick are the two famous sufferers who spring to mind, and Trescothick's book is an absolute must for anyone to read).
No rugby related bumph this week out of respect for Gary Speed. Normal service resumed next week.
RIP Gary.
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