Leon Pryce is smiling. “Hi, mate, how’s it going?” he bellows as he enters the room with an ear-to-ear grin. “Life’s pretty awesome at the minute, isn’t it?” Once, this greeting would have been little to remark upon from Pryce but, given how the former Great Britain rugby league international is about to describe the mental turmoil he went through this summer after retiring unexpectedly, it makes his mood all the more surprising.
We meet at a service station coffee shop, which, while only a few miles from Bradford Bulls’ Odsal Stadium, where Pryce made his name, is a world away from his glittering career.
For two decades Pryce was one of the sport’s most recognisable players, regarded as one of the finest of his generation. Born into a family with a rich history in the sport, the 35-year-old became the youngest player in Bradford’s history, at the age of 16 in 1998, and went on to win every domestic honour at his home-town club as an integral part of one of the most successful teams in Super League. He went on to extraordinary success at St Helens, Catalans Dragons and Hull FC, finishing as one of the most decorated players in the sport’s modern era.
In 2016, he was part of the Hull FC squad who won the Challenge Cup at Wembley for the first time in the club’s history but there was still one box left to tick in his career – finishing at Bradford – and when the opportunity arose this year, he took it.
Things quickly turned sour. The Bulls, now in the sport’s second tier, the Championship, were liquidated in January amid crippling financial problems and while Pryce remained loyal and became captain of the reincarnated Bulls in February, he was battered and broken. “By the end of my career I was having painkiller injections in my knee just so I could play. I ended up with chronic arthritis in my knee and I was training only once a week so I could get through games. By the end, I was suffering mentally as well as physically.”
Now in daily pain and accepting his playing days were limited, Pryce called a halt to his career in May, 24 hours after being substituted during a defeat by London in which a section of the Bradford fans, who once watched him lift trophy after trophy at the club, jeered him as he left the field. The agony and the mental strain had taken their toll on Pryce and, in the blink of an eye, his career was over.
What followed is proof that even the greatest of talents are not immune to the darkest of demons. As the sports minister, Tracey Crouch, underlined at the beginning of this week when calling for more help for elite sportsmen and women: “Profession is no barrier to the darkness that invades your mind and soul.”
For Pryce, regrettably, things, would not get any better in the days and weeks after retirement. Suddenly he was stranded. “I had a breakdown,” he says. “I ended up moving out of my house and living with my mum for a bit. My wife was pregnant and it wasn’t right to be around the house at that time. It was bad. She and my mother-in-law saw I was in a horrible place – and that’s when they got in touch with Colin.”
Colin is Colin Bland, the chief executive of Sporting Chance, the clinic founded by the former Arsenal captain Tony Adams, in 2000, to help provide treatment for sportsmen and sportswomen in need of it.
Pryce found himself whisked away to Liphook in Hampshire, where the clinic is based. “It’s 25 days you’re there,” he recalls. “It’s just about recovering: no drinking, no pressure, no financial strain, nothing. You’re cut off from it all. It’s the most stress-free you’ll ever be.”
Harrowingly, he is clear about what might have happened had the call never gone in to Sporting Chance. “There is no shadow of a doubt that it saved my life – 100%. I wouldn’t be sat here doing this interview if I hadn’t gone to it.”
Pryce admits he was also thankful for the support of former players throughout his struggles. His former St Helens and Great Britain team-mate Lee Gilmour sat up with him for an entire night to ensure he was safe. When news of his problems began to surface among the rugby league community, players such as the former Great Britain captain Jamie Peacock and his international team-mate Adrian Morley phoned and offered their support.
Pryce, thankfully, returned home from Sporting Chance with clarity and, perhaps more importantly, a vision. Many players opt for coaching or punditry when they retire. Pryce is intent on something different. “While I was down there and my mind began to clear, I realised I wanted to help people who may be in my situation in the future,” he explains. “I was mindful of speaking out because I didn’t want it to be a sob story – but if I talk and help break a bit of the stigma attached to rugby, and it shows that if I can go through it anyone can, that is massive.”
Rugby league has made great strides forward to tackle mental health problems but Pryce is acutely aware there is more work to be done. He wants to help. “I’m going out with Rugby League Cares and the guys at Sporting Chance, and trying to set something up,” he says. “I’ll be there for people. As rugby players you’re taught not to show emotion and it’s the way you’re built – but eventually people break. I did.”
So what’s the vision? “We’ve got to give the lads options when they finish playing. The RFL do a great job but they need help. I’m looking to get into schools, rugby clubs, and educating as many people as I can about my experiences. Rugby players need the help more than anyone about dealing with finishing playing – if I can help one person, I’ve done something good.”
Pryce is unlikely to return to rugby in a coaching capacity – although not because of any form of resentment of the game. It is clear he is more passionate about preventing anyone else from having to endure the same things he has. And away from rugby, there was a happy ending, too.
“My wife gave birth to our third child, Leo, recently,” he says, again with the grin returning. “But I don’t want to disappear into the sunset without helping anyone. It wouldn’t be right – I don’t want to walk away from this.
“I’m in a really good place, especially with the new arrival. It’s time to give something back. That’s all down to Sporting Chance and what Tony Adams did. He probably won’t see this and we obviously don’t know each other but I just want to go on record and say thank you to him and all the staff at the clinic who helped me. You’ve done something very special: you’ve helped save lives. I know that.”
• The Samaritans can be contacted on 116 123. In the US, the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline is 1-800-273-8255. In Australia, the crisis support service Lifeline is 13 11 14. Other international suicide helplines can be found at www.befrienders.org