Harvey Hosein and the choice to put health first

NICK FRIEND: The Derbyshire wicketkeeper has retired from cricket, citing his struggle with the effects of four concussions in two years. He opens up on the roots of a brave decision, coping with prolonged symptoms and wanting to feel better again

Harvey Hosein calls it brain fog.

“I’d describe it as a completely spaced-out feeling. The day would pass and you’d feel somewhere, but you wouldn’t completely feel there. There was a time when I went into the ground, but I left because the noise of the dressing room was making me feel worse. I remember a few weeks later, the coach said to me that I just hadn’t looked right, like I was there but not there. It’s hard to describe, but you just don’t feel very present at all.”

Hosein only turned 25 in August, but he retired from cricket last week, succumbing to the effects of four concussions, three of which have occurred in the past year, with the impact more severe and more prolonged each time.

The most recent came against Leicestershire during a Royal London Cup match in July: the symptoms gradually emerged an hour later and “worsened”, by which time he had been dismissed for 38, having passed an initial test to continue batting. He had “an uneasy feeling where all I could do was lie down” and was subsequently withdrawn from the remainder of the game. He hasn’t been able to play cricket since, and the symptoms are yet to dissipate as October ends – three months after the event.

“At the time, because you’re in the moment and your adrenaline is going a bit, you don’t quite realise it straight away,” he says. “When I would get hit, sometimes the symptoms wouldn’t be immediate. It would take the rest of the day to bring it on, and then it would be the weeks and months afterwards where I’d have brain fog, headaches and excessive tiredness. I remember a few weeks after the two most recent hits, if I did anything at all – even getting up after a full night’s sleep – I’d have to lie down and I’d be falling asleep in the day. Dizziness too.

“Just little things would start to concern you: having to think slightly harder to remember little things that before you would never have had to have thought about. It was the same symptoms with each hit. Just with each hit, those symptoms became worse, more prevalent and lasted longer – and little things would just trigger them off as well. Another hit to the head just wouldn’t be a good idea.”

A month and a half after the last concussion, Hosein attempted a light session on an exercise bike but felt the symptoms come flooding back. It has been a gradual progression towards settling on a premature retirement, but that single moment stands out as a realisation of “when I knew it was probably heading this way”.

^{Harvey Hosein bats for the final time in his professional career for Derbyshire against Leicestershire in the Royal London Cup}

When news filtered through last week of his decision, it felt like an act of bravery and extreme self-awareness.

“It falls on you to make that ultimate call because no one else can make it for you,” he explains.

More so, it felt like a significant moment for cricket: concussion has not always been so well researched nor as widely discussed in the context of elite sport – “because it’s a head injury, it’s not as obvious as a wound on the leg,” says Hosein – but the last couple of years have carried a sharp, necessary spike in its conversation. 

“As elite sportsmen, we are our own worst enemy in that we always want to play,” he says.

“We never want to admit that we can’t play. So, you’re trying almost to mask how you’re feeling and push yourself too far when you’re not right. That’s why the concussion protocols are there. You can’t get through them unless you genuinely can get through them, which I couldn’t. They are there to protect you. Retiring early was never something that I wanted to consider, but the decision was made to put my health first rather than risk seeing what happened if another hit did take place.”

The final call – and there is a real finality to this – only came a fortnight ago, centred on a heightened concern around what damage another concussion might do. Hosein is proud of having reached a courageous conclusion, simultaneously gutted that it has come to this.

“I’ll miss the day-to-day camaraderie of the dressing room environment,” he reflects, “but also just the little intricacies of being a pro cricketer.” He gives a nostalgic smile as he forms his list: “The chats in the slip cordon, batting on a hot day.”

Retaining those memories is a large part of this, however. It is a difficult question to ask, and no doubt troubling to answer, but the stories of former athletes in recent times have offered a brutal eye-opener into concussion’s lasting impact. Steve Thompson, the former England rugby player, told The Guardian last year that he couldn’t remember winning the World Cup in 2003.

“I think the awareness of what concussions do down the line definitely played a part in making the decision now to put health first rather than even further increase that risk, with the possibility of what another hit or two might do,” says Hosein. “That’s why the protocols are there – because the longer-term effects are now known of what concussions have done to people. As tough as it’s been, it is the right decision that has been made.”

As an 18-year-old, in his first appearance for Derbyshire – his home county and only team as a professional – he broke the club record for the most catches in a first-class game, equalling the world record for a wicketkeeper on debut in the process. New Road was the scene of his only County Championship hundred, five years ago. But until this season was curtailed, he was averaging 41.22, having begun with four half-centuries in five innings. Truly, part of this story’s sadness is that Hosein might have had a spot in Derbyshire’s side for the next decade and more. Chesterfield-born, he was one of their own.

“Away from the concussions, I’ll miss it dearly. I’ve got eight wonderful years of memories that I’ll have forever. I’m very grateful for that.”

^{Hosein has taken a courageous decision to retire from cricket, citing multiple concussions}

But there is no frustration at the medical advice that has pointed him in this direction; instead, he bears a gratitude for having had such expert guidance. Others, certainly in the past, were not so fortunate.

Four times, he calls this “the right decision”, and his symptoms are easing as he rests: “That’s unfortunately the only way that it gets better. Then, you introduce exercise gradually.”

Of his four episodes, the first was a wicketkeeping drill gone wrong, when a ball ricocheted into his head as he stood unhelmeted at first slip. The next three took place while batting, of which two came as he advanced down the pitch to hit seamers over the top. Like many wicketkeepers of slight build, he viewed the short ball as a strength rather than an area for bowlers to target and insists that he never considered himself emotionally scarred by his previous experiences.

Hosein could have been forgiven if this had been a teary, dispiriting chat: a young cricketer still raw in coming to terms with losing a career that a decade earlier had transitioned from pipedream to reality. After all, it takes so much sacrifice to make it as a professional athlete. But instead, he is measured and at peace, and there is a laudable clarity to the way in which he lays out his predicament.

The reason for that, he explains, is how the summer panned out: “I suppose if a player gets released from a county, it’s like hitting a brick wall, whereas my exit has been a gradual realisation over a period of time, so you get to grips with it yourself gradually, which makes it smoother to deal with rather than someone telling you they don’t need you anymore. I’ve had time.”

He talks about his “surreal” last day as a Derbyshire player, driving one final time into the ground where he had first come to train when he was 12. He stresses, too, on several occasions that this was never what he wanted to happen. “Retiring early as a sportsman is something that no professional ever wants to consider really, and it’s something that I never thought I’d have to consider.” But he knows it’s better than the alternative.

So sad to see one of my best friends finish in these circumstances. But a brave decision to finish and look after his health 😢 😢 😢

But congratulations on what was a great career cut way to short

@HarveyHosein16 https://t.co/HfKVP3rWtq

— Critch (@mattcritchley96) October 19, 2021

“It is very difficult because you’re hanging onto all the great matches and the times you’ve had with your friends,” he says. “But then, you look at the other side of the coin and how I’ve actually been for the last year and how I’ve been feeling. And then you weigh that up. That’s just not how I want to feel. And then, if there was a next time…”

He tails off. It’s not so much a fear of the unknown as knowing exactly what would come next: the same symptoms but worse, with no guarantee in the short term over how long they would keep him out of action, and with even less assurance around the more distant future. Sport and health are similar in that regard at least – both governed by a cruel fragility.

“I was definitely unnerved by things like falling asleep during the day and the bad headaches. It was probably only with the third and fourth concussions this season where I started to think that this wasn’t good and it wasn’t right.

“My main concern and my main want is just to feel completely normal and better again, so I’m just going to let that happen and follow the steps that I’m receiving from the neurophysios to get that process working at its own pace.”

^{Hosein bats with Matt Critchley, his longtime Derbyshire teammate}

Retirement has helped in that regard. Previously, Hosein would set himself comeback targets in a mental calendar that cultivated a sense of anxiety “because of how I was feeling and because the symptoms just weren’t going away”.

He found it challenging to balance the need for patience with the nature of professional cricket. “I’d picture myself being back for a particular game or training session, so that was where the pressure that I put on myself was coming from, but you just can’t rush something that you can’t rush.” That anxiety has gone now that there is nothing to rush for.

I ask Hosein whether he can envisage his retirement – in time – leading the way for others to follow suit, if faced with similar situations, and whether he realises how important his brave precedent might become.

Will Pucovski, the Australian opener, recently suffered his 10th concussion. Chris Rogers, his coach at Victoria, described him as “resilient” when previewing his latest return to action.

"You can’t force anybody to do anything,” says Hosein. “No matter how they’re feeling or how injured they are, you can’t tell somebody what to do. I can only receive all the advice I receive and make the decision based on that advice. Everybody will have their own discretion. It’s just how many hits you’re willing to take and how bad you want to feel, as weird as that sounds, before you make that call.

“I suppose you could go on forever until you’re completely knocked out and you’re unable to do anything, but you could still say that you want to keep going. At the end of the day, it has to be a decision that you take. But all you can do is listen to what they’re saying and make that decision.”

In his case, Hosein forewent an agent through the latter stages of his career but was still surrounded by trusted sounding boards. The PCA “have been excellent”, while medical professionals, coaches, teammates and family – “you don’t ever want to let them down, but they’ve been very supportive” – have rallied around him to lend their own friendship through a uniquely challenging period.

Reassuringly, though, he has never felt any external pressure to go against his better judgement: “[This decision] wouldn’t have been a surprise to the people who have seen me this summer and the effects that it has been having.” There have been plenty of messages and phone calls since his bombshell went public, and he calls the last few days “an overwhelming experience”.

^{Hosein suffered his fourth concussion in July and has not been able to play since}

He terms himself “lucky and grateful” to have a fallback: the Professional Cricketers’ Association prepares its members for moments like this, where cricket is suddenly no longer an option, and he has long held an interest in entering the finance industry. He has already taken his IMC Level Four exams and has one more – for which his revision material has just arrived – before being fully qualified in investment management and financial advice. Coaching, he admits, never interested him as a post-cricket venture, albeit he had never planned for this part of his life to come round so fast.

There are no regrets, though: “In football, you might get tackled and break your leg.” He remains a sports fan, not put off by the idea of watching a boxing fight nor the hope of returning to the game at club level, where “the risk obviously isn’t as high”. As for cricket itself, he doesn’t think “anything needs to change”. Concussion substitutes have already been introduced – Hosein was replaced against Durham by Anuj Dal, with Brooke Guest taking over as wicketkeeper – and earlier this year the MCC opened a global consultation on the suitability of bouncers in modern cricket.

“I think it’s just the risk of the game,” he says. “Any sport carries risk really. I don’t think there’s anything you can really change about the game. It is a risk, but you just manage the risk with the protocols.”

For Harvey Hosein, managing that risk means stepping away from a childhood dream to focus on his continued recovery, knowing that health comes first. He smiles again – a wry, reflective, proud smile: “It became clear that it was the right thing to do, as hard as it is to come to that decision.”