“Right now, I can’t see him coming back,” Thorpe said. “Tresco’s come home from two tours and people are going to take some convincing that he’s all right. They’ll be wondering if they should be really be putting their money back on this bloke.

“Marcus has been on the treadmill non-stop for six years. All cricketers have different personalities and are in different stages of their lives. Some are single, some married, some have kids, and all these things have an effect. The way modern touring is, it is pretty much play, travel, train, play, moving hotel rooms constantly. I’m not surprised it’s got to someone. There’ll be others.

“When I walked out of the game, it was awful. Your self-esteem takes an enormous kick. Even if someone is not following you with a camera, or a news reporters wanting to know whether you’re a crackpot, you become paranoid. You think people are looking at you saying, ‘There’s that bloke who didn’t go on that Ashes tour. How can he be depressed playing cricket for England, earning half a million pounds a year?’

“I was afraid people thought I was soft. How could I prove to England it wasn’t going to happen again? I couldn’t, except in the end to say, ‘Look at me now. I’m a new person’.”

Thorpe, whose marriage broke down partly as a result of him constantly touring with England, believes the Somerset batsman’s situation may be worse than his own because Trescothick’s domestic situation — he is married to wife Hayley with two young children - appears stable.

“He’s got to say what’s been going on,” Thorpe added. “It just seems to come out of nowhere and grab him. If he has been suffering panic attacks, or anxiety attacks, he should say so. As bad as it sounds, if he can say that he can’t cope with playing cricket at this level any more, it’ll make him feel a million times better and help the rebuilding process. When I said I wasn’t going to Australia in 2002, I immediately felt better for doing it.

“The trouble is, there’s some things you don’t want to admit to and I don’t know if he’s got enough confidence to say what it is he has been struggling with. He may be hiding things because he wants to come back and play again.

“My fear is that he has actually multiplied his problems by 100. When I didn’t go to Australia, I just sat at home and dwelt on things. I didn’t want my career to end that way. It’s cricket that makes you get up in the morning. It’s a dangerous period. I hope he’s got lots of family around him and lots of professional help.

“I’ve got an enormous amount of compassion and sympathy for him. He’s given everything to cricket for years and now cricket seems almost an irrelevance.”

Thorpe managed to pull his life around after beginning a new relationship and returning to Test cricket in triumph with a brilliant century against South Africa at The Oval in September 2003, during which he shared a match-winning double-century stand with Trescothick.

Thorpe, who has just emigrated to Sydney with his new partner, Amanda, recently met Trescothick, 30, during England’s tour-opener at Canberra nine days ago. “There was no clue anything was wrong,” he said. “He came rushing over to see me and we said we must meet up for a beer at some stage. Marcus is a top guy, a great team man, totally unselfish. He will do anything for his teammates. He’s a hard-working cricketer who loves the game. I had him down very much as cricket, cricket, cricket.

“He was a modern-day cricketer who absorbed everything, the sports psychologist, the stats, the goals, the dietary stuff, the laptops, everything that would help ensure his performance on the pitch would be spot on. I wouldn’t say he was a big one for going out. He would do the day trips, play golf. He wasn’t a ‘lad’. That was not a problem.

“I never saw him change, whether he had scored nought or 100. He was very level. But maybe that’s not the best thing. You have to enjoy the good times.”

Cricket’s never-ending schedule has long been a cause of concern for Fica, the players’ global union, but the International Cricket Council, in thrall to the revenues television contracts generate, has refused to give ground. It therefore seems inevitable that burnout will become increasingly common. Already, exhaustion has taken its toll on Australia’s Matthew Hayden and Herschelle Gibbs, of South Africa, who, like Trescothick, were for years opening batsmen in Tests and ODIs, while Steve Harmison, the England fast bowler, suffers from homesickness when he tours.

“The management have to keep an eye out for those they think might be in trouble,” Thorpe added. “But it’s not easy. Who could have predicted what would happen to David Bairstow? He loved playing and was a good socialiser and yet when he stopped playing he couldn’t cope. You’re passionate about it, then it stops. We know there are enormous problems in the sporting world in certain team environments.

“Sports people are pretty good at bottling things up. It’s a macho game and you can’t show weakness. Maybe Tresco was worrying about when his time was going to end. Maybe he wondered if he was losing it and what he would do after he finished.

“I used to think, ‘My God, here I am, sitting in hotel rooms, waiting to play another game of cricket.’ What do you do? I felt guilt and shame when I droppedout. You feel you have let down the public and your team. You feel worthless and wonder what on earth you’re going to do with your life. You need very good support from home.”