The recent Tests between the West Indies and England exposed cricket fans to a relatively new face in the commentary box — former England fast bowler Steve Harmison. He cut a calm figure behind the microphone, offering his interpretation and prognostications of the action in the middle. But on his good days, with ball in hand, he was often a frightening prospect.

Harmison was quick, probably as fast as any man in the history of the game. Standing at 6’5”, he elicited steep bounce from all but the most docile pitches, and his ESPNCricinfo profile refers to his “painful capacity for jamming fingers against bat handles”.

But it is generally accepted that Harmison ended his playing days as one of cricket’s great unfulfilled talents. And yet it would be unfair to label him an underachiever.

What was not widely known at the time is that he was plagued by depression so crippling that only sporadically did it allow his talent to burst through. Sports’ macho culture allowed precious little space for that kind of mental illness. Were his true ailment revealed then, it would likely be taken as evidence of weakness, especially unbecoming of an uncompromising fast man trading in pace and intimidation.

Speaking shortly after England batsman Jonathan Trott’s revelation after flying home from a very difficult 2012/2013 Ashes series, Harmison spoke about his reasons for not revealing the exact nature of his trials during his career: “At the time, nobody did that. It was not that I did not want to be the first one, I just did not believe I could say anything about how I was feeling. Somehow I managed to struggle through.

“I said I was homesick and that was actually used as a stick to beat me with. It was not just homesickness, although that did not help. It is a chemical imbalance in the brain, and it is something I battled with for years. It tended to be inflamed when I was away from home because I did miss people, I was lonely and I did not have my support network around me.”

I first set eyes on Harmison during an England tour game against Jamaica on their 2003/2004 West Indies visit.

The pitch appeared lifeless, hardly a delivery rose over stump height, and I remember thinking that if the Test match pitch was similar in nature then the batsmen would not be overly troubled.

But then Harmison came on and suddenly the game was transformed. The playing surface now seemed full of life, and batsmen who were playing deliveries just short of a good length comfortably around stump height found that they now had to be protecting their ribcage. The 6’5” bowler never took a wicket in the game, but it was clear he’d be the bowler to watch when the real battle began in a few days.

Only 28 runs separated the teams on first innings in the Test. Opener Devon Smith’s 108 had led the West Indies to 311, and England responded with 339. Chris Gayle and Smith then survived three overs to close the third day with the West Indies on eight and the match intriguingly poised entering Sunday’s fourth day.

For some reason that I don’t now recall, I was a few minutes late getting to Sabina Park that morning. The loud roar as I waited to enter meant that a batsman had fallen. It was Gayle. He was Harmison’s first victim, caught behind flashing at a delivery he could well have ignored. The crowd was disappointed that their Jamaican favourite had gone so early and so needlessly, but with the meat of the batting still to follow no one was overly perturbed.

Before I was properly seated, however, another wicket fell. This time it was Ramnaresh Sarwan, leg before wicket (lbw) to Harmison, and by the time Shivnarine Chanderpaul diverted the gangly pacer onto his stumps, the floodgates had truly been forced open.

Next in was Lara. Surely, one of the greatest batsmen the game had known could beat back the rampaging paceman and prevent a complete overrun. He had done it before. His 213 on the same ground in 2001 stopped the advance of the marauding Australians, and, in the company of Jimmy Adams, erected a platform from which Courtney Walsh and Nehemiah Perry wrought an unlikely victory.

The West Indian captain was accompanied to the middle by riffs of the Caribbean cricket anthem Rally round the West Indies, and the crowd, though stunned, remained hopeful.

That hope crashed after exactly five deliveries. Matthew Hoggard ran one across the left-hander and had him caught behind.

Meanwhile, the vendors in the stands were in a quandary. They came amply stocked with supplies, expecting a full day. It soon became apparent, however, that the end would come earlier than imagined, leaving them stuck with most of what they had brought, much of it perishable. The upshot was that prices began tumbling in sync with the West Indian wickets — each wicket was accompanied by a price drop.

The spectators had to make adjustments as well. Many who had come armed with strong liquid refreshments to enliven the proceedings could be seen sharing with their fellow mourners, both as a means of treating the dejection and also to lighten the load they would need to take back home.

All this time wickets were still going down. First innings centurion Smith was caught and bowled by Matthew Hoggard, who himself was well into an impressive spell.

A snorter from Harmison took care of Ridley Jacobs. Spitting at him like a cobra from just short of a length, he could do no more than glove it. Nasser Hussain, fielding at short leg, ran to his left and accepted the catch. In the circumstances, it could probably be said that the 15 he scored was a reasonably good innings, especially since it turned out to be the top score.

Another screamer would have removed Tino Best’s head had he not hurriedly removed it from the delivery’s path. But his instinctive jab left his bat in the way for the ball to graze its edge on its way to the keeper.

Adam Sanford was then caught by Marcus Trescothick, the first of the six – yes six – slip fielders that were lined up alongside the wicketkeeper. Trescothick was the catcher again to end the massacre when Harmison took Fidel Edwards’ edge for his seventh wicket.

The West Indies innings had collapsed in a heap for 47 and Harmison’s 7 for 12 was the cheapest seven-wicket haul in history.

Five batsmen failed to score, only two reached double figures, and all the doubters were convinced, for the moment at least, that Harmison was now the fast bowling heavyweight they all thought he could become.

And for a while he remained a formidable force.

The New Zealanders tasted his fire soon afterwards, and the gangly fast bowler was instrumental in England wresting the ashes from Australia in 2005, and there was the 6/19 and 5/57 against Pakistan at Old Trafford in 2006. But he was still unpredictable, sometimes downright horrid, and the match-winning performances became scarcer and scarcer.

His nadir was probably the first delivery of the 2006/2007 Ashes series that was collected by Fred Flintoff standing at second slip. A delivery the English press dubbed the worst ball in Test history and a far cry from his incredible performance at Sabina Park, one his then captain called “one of the best spells by an England bowler”.

Garfield Robinson is a Jamaican living in the US who writes on cricket for a few Indian and English publications. Send comments to the Jamaica Observer or garfield.v.robinson@gmail.com.