A newspaper cutting from more than two decades captures Dafydd James in his pomp as a rugby player.
“I followed the last three Lions tours on TV back home, the first one as a child. I would think: ‘I’d love to be there,’ he said in a one-to-one interview before his Lions debut against a President’s XV in Townsville.
“Well, I’m here now and on the other side of the TV screen as it were. I just can’t wait to put on the red shirt to officially become a Lion.
“At the start of last season I set myself the target of winning a place on this tour. Thankfully, I have achieved that and it’s a dream come true.”
Those quotes are from 2001, when everything James had hoped for and worked towards was coming true. The individual sitting opposite in the Lions' team hotel all those years ago was 25 and at the very top of his game.
Hard-running, quick and with an eye for a gap, he could operate at wing or centre and was an excellent player, good enough to play in all three Tests on that tour of Australia.
The Sunday Times called his performance in the first game of the series ‘regal’, with James having scored a try and won his personal battle with the acclaimed Wallaby wing Joe Roff.
Life, it appeared, was beyond good for the young Welshman.
But the last decade or so has been tough for the same man — extremely tough. On Sunday evening he was on the BBC's Scrum V programme taking part in an interview with Phil Steele that was poignant and hard to watch but incredibly insightful as James told of his mental health struggles since he stopped playing.
Steele, who has fought his own battle against depression, handled the one-to-one brilliantly, at one stage reaching out to empathetically and reassuringly tap James on the arm as the now 46-year-old became emotional while answering a question about his future.
James explained lucidly how difficult it can be for a sportsperson after the roar of the crowd fades and the adulation wanes post-playing.
“Yes, people remember you, but you're the guy that used to play rugby, not the guy that is playing rugby,” said the 51-cap international, using words that plenty of others will identify with in the Scrum V interview.
“My jerseys, my caps are in a plastic bag in my bedroom — out of the way.”
He said he didn’t look at them.
The ex-Brynteg Comprehensive School pupil has experienced an emotional buffeting but still remembers the reaction in the arena after scoring a try, saying it “just hits you like a big tornado, really. The crowd just erupts…it’s sublime. It’s one of those things you can’t really describe properly. The hairs on the back of your neck…it’s the best feeling, the best buzz in the world — and then someone can flick a switch and it’s gone.”
The road became bumpier when his connection with professional rugby ended suddenly and painfully.
“It was brutal. It hurts now to talk about it. The career was mapped out: I was going to be a conditioning coach for a professional outfit, and found myself going from a path I was going to go down to an unknown.
"I hit a big black spot in my life. I’ve been quite open: I suffer with depression and anxiety and I didn’t know quite what it was at that stage.
“I suffered bouts during my playing career. It was hard, really. There were times in my career when I couldn’t even laugh. I couldn’t even look at myself in the mirror — really critical of myself and everything that I did — and I was never good enough.
"Unfortunately, I was going through a difficult patch in my marital state. I went through a divorce and found myself living in the back of my car, wondering what I was going to do. The support wasn’t there. I went to take my own life a couple of times — it was tough.”
He advised young players coming through to follow their dreams, work hard and plan ahead.
“Life goes on after your playing career,” he also said.
“You get to 35, 36 (as a player) if you’re lucky; you still have 20 to 30 years to work, and things can go wrong, and they do go wrong. Life can get a hold of you, and it can take hold of you very, very fast.”
This was powerful TV, highlighting the challenges facing those who might have spent a large period of their lives in a squad environment, with all the camaraderie that brings, only to then be confronted by the reality of life on the outside.
No expertise in psychology is needed to appreciate that support networks are important.
And much good work is being done in Welsh rugby through the Welsh Rugby Players Association and the likes of Lloyd Ashley, the Ospreys second row, who is such an impressive mental health advocate.
In the meantime, we were left hoping that life would settle once again for Daf James, a man whose ability in a former life as player is matched only by his bravery right now in publicly addressing such issues.
Everyone will surely wish Daf well.
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