Foster Patrick - Might Bite: The Secret Life of a Gambling Addict

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by Marcus Trescothick

by Marcus Trescothick

I first met Patrick Foster in October 2018 at the Oval Cricket Ground in south London. We were sat in the grand old Committee Room inside the historic Pavilion, launching the Professional Cricketers Trust, a charity that supports players of our great game, past and present.

The two of us had been invited to tell our stories to print and broadcast media, thus raising awareness of the Trusts amazing work. Patrick and I had been asked to speak together because we had very different experiences in cricket and in life.

At the Oval 12 years earlier, I had played the last of my 76 Test matches for England. A dozen years on, I had just completed the 26th of my 27 years as a professional with Somerset. Cricket had given me a great life and livelihood.

In his teens and early twenties, Patrick had also been a professional cricketer with Northamptonshire, playing nine first-class matches for Durham University. It had been his dream to make a career from the game, as I did.

But things had not gone quite to plan, and he had spent the decade before we met getting a degree, working in insurance and teaching while being an outstanding club cricketer. Cricket was a big part of his life, but he had done much else besides.

So as professional cricketers we had a lot of differences, but we were also sat talking to each other and telling our stories because as people, we had much in common. We had both had battles with mental health. My issue had been depression, triggered particularly by travelling away from home while under the intense spotlight of being an international cricketer. Patricks was a pathological addiction to gambling that caused many other problems. We were both cricketers who had had major struggles off the field.

Just a few months before we met, Patrick had been totally gripped by his addiction, which drove him right to the brink. But in that room he told his incredible story with clarity and calm. It was raw and tough to hear, but it was compulsive listening. I had said my bit, a tale which many in the room knew well, then everyone was gripped by Patricks story, even though most there did not know too much about him. Speaking about such matters so soon after they had happened takes a bit of courage. I was sat there thinking that this was someone who had been pushed to some extraordinary lengths and been to some dark places, beyond his control. Given what we had in common, it really hit home.

We were both there, too, because we were so grateful for the support we had received from the Professional Cricketers Association, the parent body of the PCT. In 2006 I had come home from a tour of India having suffered a breakdown, and the help through counselling I received was instant and impressive. Just having someone I could sit down and open up to, who made me feel I was not alone was so powerful. The PCA had helped Patrick in his recovery, and we both felt so lucky to have them.

Now, Patrick works with them. Back in 2018, he was learning how to tell his story, and taking the first steps in a new life. The words he was saying were raw, and incredible to hear. These days, the narrative is polished and professional, but no less affecting. It makes for harrowing listening, that I found I could really relate to. It does not make for easy listening, but it is also amazing to see him stood there before you or, in the pandemic, at the other end of a screen! in recovery.

He speaks to students at schools and universities around the country, and to every professional cricketer (man and woman) in the country through the PCA, as well as plenty of other people across the sporting sphere.

He is sharing such an important message. Since he opened up about his struggles, another professional cricketer, Hampshires Chris Wood, has come forward and told his own story, and now they work together, which is very good to see. There are more young people in cricket who need help with gambling, and these two are doing a great job helping them. Patrick is a trailblazer because every person who talks about their experiences makes it easier for the next.

One of the things about problem gambling that has struck me since hearing Patricks story and learning that Chris who I played against a lot had a problem, is how little education there has been around it. I certainly wasnt warned of gamblings dangers growing up and I probably made it halfway through my career as a cricketer before it was ever raised as a problem, whereas we were in no doubt that drink or drugs could cause trouble. Over the years I have seen plenty of players gamble in many different ways, and they need to know that it can spiral out of control, as it did for Patrick.

As a society, it feels we are only just getting to grips with gambling addiction. It is not as normalised as other mental health struggles. Now this taboo is being smashed, we can move on to the next.

But I do believe we are fostering an easier environment for people to open up, whatever their issues. I look at some of the young cricketers I work with, like Dom Bess, a former teammate of mine at Somerset is in his early twenties. He has already learnt to speak articulately about his battles with his mental health, and that will help others. People across sport and society are just so much more ready to express their feelings, to ask for help.

I wrote extensively about my depression in 2008 in my book Coming Back To Me . It was a cathartic process, but also hard because I was still an active cricketer and learning how to deal with my mental health.

I am very proud to have played a part in opening up the conversation, and hopefully allowing more people to get help. I have said before that I wrote that book thinking that if I helped one person feel better in the battle I had been fighting, I would be happy. It would all be worth it. Fortunately, many people have said over the years that it helped them. And, honestly, I am as proud of my role in that conversation as I am of any cricketing achievement a cap, a hundred, a series win. Im extremely proud to see other cricketers like Jonathan Trott, Steve Harmison, Mike Yardy and Sarah Taylor opening up about their mental health. Cricketers and sportspeople are more vulnerable than they might first appear.

My time as a cricketer was great, I loved it and feel so lucky. But like all things, it came to an end. For me this was in 2019, when I began another chapter on the other side of the boundary as a coach, first with Somerset and now with England.

But education on all matters mental health keeps going. It is a lifelong project. I still get a buzz talking about it, helping people, making the sort of appearance at which I met Patrick. I find this work endures far more than runs or wickets. I am proud that Patrick is on the same path. His work will help many.

Having driven around aimlessly for three hours, I left my car at Slough station and didnt bother to pay for parking. Instead, having earlier smashed a porcelain piggybank I shared with my girlfriend and taken what I thought was my final 18.10, I bought a ticket to London, and walked onto the platform. The departures board told me that in six minutes a train would be hurtling through without stopping. I was set on throwing myself in front of it.

Standing on the end of the platform, I was certain that, despite only having turned 31 three days earlier, Id reached the end of the road. I was ready to end my total mess of a life. Id experienced suicidal thoughts for some time, and this was my second attempt to take my life in the course of 12 extraordinary days that had pushed me to the point of no return.