The scrapbook is meticulously preserved, a collection of newspaper clippings saved and collated by a proud father.
It charts virtually each step on Wayne Harrison’s journey in the direction of the massive time, from first kicking a ball for Woodsmoor Colts and goalscoring exploits for Stockport Boys and Greater Manchester Boys, to creating his skilled debut for Oldham Athletic at 16 after which changing into the most costly teenager in soccer historical past when he joined Liverpool in a £250,000 deal shortly after turning 17.
At her dwelling in Stockport, his sister Adele chuckles at some of the descriptions: “teenage wonder”, “soccer saviour”, “wonder waif”. She might by no means get her head round the concept her youthful brother was a soccer prodigy.
To his household, he was all the time simply “Our Wayne”. “A proper mummy’s boy,” Adele says. “He never left his mum’s side except to go to school and play football.”
As we leaf by way of the scrapbook, the tone of the headlines adjustments: from “Whizz Kid Wayne” to “forgotten starlet” and “invisible man”, a participant bedevilled by accidents, misplaced within the system at Liverpool, unable to interrupt into their all-conquering staff of the Eighties. Two separate headlines from that point ask, “Whatever happened to Baby Wayne?”, riffing on the title of a 1962 movie starring Bette Davis and Joan Crawford.
What occurred to Harrison was a tragedy — a profession curtailed by damage, forcing him to retire on the age of 23, after which, finally, a life reduce quick.
Injuries didn’t simply wreck Harrison’s profession; they broken his life.
After greater than 20 operations on his knee, he ended up unable to work, dwelling on incapacity advantages, his desires shattered, an excellent future far behind him — “heartbroken”, Adele says — earlier than he died of pancreatic most cancers on Christmas Day 2013.
News of Harrison’s dying, on the age of 46, despatched a short tremor by way of English soccer.
Tributes poured in for a participant whose uncommon expertise was matched solely by his capability for misfortune. An FA Cup tie between Liverpool and Oldham fell poignantly simply over per week later, permitting each units of followers and gamers to commemorate Harrison with a minute’s applause at Anfield. But then the ovation light away and soccer forgot him for a second time.
Ten years on, this looks like an opportune second to recollect Harrison and to inform his story in depth. Not simply the dramatic rise, the record-breaking switch, the accidents and the wrestle to reside as much as expectations, however the rising pains of an peculiar boy who longed for the conventional life his extraordinary expertise had taken him away from — and who then, plunged again into regular life, his desires shattered, was left lamenting the profession he might have had.
He was barely out of college.
Harrison was a number of weeks quick of his seventeenth birthday when he made his Football League debut in October 1984, changing into the youngest first-team participant in Oldham’s historical past. His strike accomplice Micky Quinn, who went on to play for Coventry City within the Premier League, recollects, “Wayne looked like a gust of wind could knock him over. But he was razor-sharp.”
Harrison scored on his second league look, in opposition to Huddersfield Town on Boxing Day, after which in an FA Cup tie in opposition to Brentford quickly after. Scouts flocked to Boundary Park to look at him, however Liverpool had been on the case since he scored twice in opposition to them as Oldham pulled off a shock in an FA Youth Cup tie at Anfield simply earlier than Christmas.
“Wayne was outstanding that night,” says Oldham’s former youth-team coach Billy Urmson. “We beat Liverpool 4-3 and he murdered them. Liverpool had a well-known youth scout called Tom Saunders and when we came off the pitch and went into the boot room, Tom wanted to know everything about Wayne.”
Saunders took a visit to Oldham to look at Harrison once more on the subsequent alternative. This time he had Ron Atkinson, Manchester United’s supervisor on the time, for firm. Both had been satisfied the child was price a punt — notably if there was a hazard he would be a part of their fiercest rivals. Atkinson made a £25,000 supply there after which. Oldham turned it down. He raised the supply to £40,000. Again, Oldham stated no. Atkinson took counterpart Joe Royle out for a meal within the hope of twisting his arm.
“And then while we were at dinner,” Atkinson says, “Liverpool’s chairman, Sir John Smith, rang the chairman at Oldham, Ian Stott, and Ian told him it was £250,000 for Wayne and that I was out for dinner with Joe Royle at that moment so he would have to be quick. John Smith sanctioned the deal, and that’s how it was done. I always remind Joe I got him an extra £200,000 for Wayne — and I still picked up the bill for our meal!”
Harrison’s subsequent struggles led some, together with Liverpool’s former captain Phil Neal, to take a position that the Merseyside membership may need been the sufferer of a “sting” between United and Oldham.
Royle and Atkinson say there was nothing of the kind. Atkinson was very eager on Harrison however, beneath stress to ship United’s first league title since 1967, he couldn’t afford to spend closely on such a long-term prospect. Liverpool, with the earlier season’s League trophy and European Cup within the trophy cupboard and cash within the financial institution, might afford a longer-term funding, notably if the outlay helped them keep away from a tax invoice on the finish of the monetary yr.
While the dimensions of the charge stunned Royle, he felt Liverpool had been getting a particular participant.
“He was lightning,” the previous Oldham and later Everton supervisor says of Harrison. “He was very similar to Michael Owen. He always wanted to run in behind the defence and his finishing was exceptional. I thought he had a great chance of reaching the very top.
“Wayne was the real thing. He really was.”
Amid appreciable fanfare, Harrison signed on the dotted line at Liverpool, whose supervisor Joe Fagan stated he was the kind of “special player” you hear about “perhaps once in 20 years”. Alongside Fagan, decked out in Liverpool hat and scarf, Harrison smiled awkwardly, trying like somebody who can’t fairly consider what is occurring to them.
The plan was to return to Oldham on mortgage for 3 months, hold taking part in first-team soccer, earlier than shifting to Liverpool completely. “But we cut it short,” Royle says. “The kid’s head, naturally, had been turned. He wanted to be at Liverpool and to get on with his career there.”
Did he, although? Did Harrison actually need to play for Liverpool?
His sister Adele thinks not. Long-term, sure, however not together with his profession nonetheless in its infancy.
“He supported them and his bedroom was all decorated in Liverpool stuff, but I don’t think he wanted to go there when he did,” she says. “I don’t think he was ready for it. He just wanted to come home every day. He was a home bird, really. That was our Wayne.”
This isn’t simply the angle of an enormous sister with no real interest in soccer. Harrison stated it explicitly in interviews on the time (“I never wanted to leave”) however Oldham’s monetary state of affairs had left him with little alternative. He additionally instructed Royle he didn’t “really fancy spending three years in Liverpool’s reserves”.
That turned out to be an underestimation. By the top of his first full season at Liverpool, virtually 18 months on from his big-money switch, Harrison’s solely style of first-team soccer had are available in a pre-season pleasant at Crewe Alexandra. It was proving laborious sufficient to determine himself in Liverpool’s reserves.
On the face of it, that appeared totally regular. For one factor, he was nonetheless solely 18. For one other, this was merely what Liverpool did within the Eighties. Ronnie Whelan, Ian Rush, Steve Nicol and Jim Beglin had all joined as youngsters and spent at the very least 12 months within the reserves, studying the fabled Liverpool Way, earlier than beginning to function usually within the first staff.
But Phil Thompson, who took over as reserve-team coach in 1986, had a number of issues. He clashed with Harrison, unable to get by way of to a participant who drifted by way of coaching classes.
“For a couple of years, he stagnated,” Thompson, a former Liverpool captain and assistant supervisor, says. “He wasn’t cutting the mustard as we’d hoped. We tried everything — arm around the shoulder, the odd rollicking, all sorts, trying to do the best for him — and nothing worked.”
Then there was a withering evaluation from Neal in his autobiography, Life At The Kop.
The former captain had overlapped with Harrison for lower than a yr, having left for Bolton Wanderers in December 1985, however he was scathing of the teen. “At Boundary Park he used to go to work on the bus, whereas now he drives a big BMW, but that’s about the only thing that has changed,” Neal wrote. “To me, Wayne looks like a bewildered youngster who has been taken away from his friends and cannot for the life of him work out why.”
Those feedback got here within the wider context of an assault on Liverpool chairman Smith, whom Neal by no means forgave for appointing Kenny Dalglish forward of him as player-manager in the summertime of 1985. But he was proper that Harrison felt bewildered and misplaced.
“He found it difficult to settle,” Thompson says. “I think some of the younger lads, seeing he had come in on a lot of money, thought it was arrogance at first. I don’t think it was, but he came in, trained and went back to Stockport and never mixed with the other lads. Living in Stockport (a southern Manchester suburb an hour’s drive from Liverpool) sort of alienated him.”
It additionally made him a goal when he was again dwelling. “He still wanted to be part of the crowd around here,” Adele says. “He was still the same person, but for some other people jealousy kicked in. He got a smart car and then he went to the local club and his tyres got slashed. A couple of lads nicked his car and put it around a lamppost. He went to one of the pubs — not a very nice place — and had his face smashed in.
“But he didn’t want to move away from home. I think if he had done, it could have been a completely different life.”
In December 1987, virtually three years after his arrival at Anfield, Harrison expressed his disillusionment in a brutally frank interview with Shoot!, a UK soccer journal.
“I’m going nowhere here,” Harrison stated. “I haven’t really had much of a look-in and I can’t see the situation changing. Sometimes it’s as though nobody notices I’m here. I knew I would be stuck in the reserves for a while, but I’m not sure how much longer I can put up with it.”
And then there have been the accidents: groin, pelvis, knee, a hernia and his shoulder. “Every injury imaginable,” says former Liverpool midfielder Mike Marsh, who performed alongside him within the reserves. “Setback after setback.”
The most traumatic incident got here on a pre-season journey to the vacation county of Cornwall within the far south west of England, when post-match drinks on the resort led to excessive spirits, horseplay and near-disaster.
“I got a knock on my door and the person said, ‘Phil, you need to come downstairs. There’s been a bad accident’,” Thompson says. “I went down and it was like a scene from a horror movie. There was blood all over the walls and they were working on Wayne’s arm. I was just thinking, ‘What the bloody hell has gone on?’.”
There was no time to get solutions. Harrison was quickly dropping blood and wanted to get to a hospital. And in what appeared typical of his luck, this coincided with an ambulance employees’ strike within the UK over pay situations, which meant the backup system, medics from the British military, needed to be summoned to hurry him to hospital for an emergency blood transfusion.
Testimonies differ over the incident. Marsh says it was “just a glass door” and that it was excessive spirits slightly than something too severe. Harrison stated in a single of his post-football interviews he had been “larking about, got into a scuffle and fell through a greenhouse and slashed my arms badly.”
Whatever the reality of the matter, Harrison was fortunate the implications weren’t worse than a 10-inch gash and a severed artery.
“But it just felt as if bad luck followed Wayne around,” Thompson stated. “At times, you felt things just conspired against him.”
A mortgage transfer to Crewe, then as now within the fourth division of English soccer, was designed to construct up his health and confidence. “But I remember being disappointed in him,” Crewe’s then goalkeeper Dean Greygoose says. “He showed glimpses of his talent in training, but it was a different Wayne in matches. He never really showed it enough.”
An interview with UK newspaper The Times laid naked the depth of Harrison’s torment.
“Oldham was a friendly, small club. Liverpool is a big, busy club,” he stated, explaining that he “couldn’t cope” when he first arrived. “There was no one for me to talk to. Liverpool just let you get on with it. They think it’s character-forming.”
It was one other remarkably candid article, notably as a result of it requested severe questions in regards to the mythologised “Liverpool way”.
“People say I’m lucky,” Harrison additionally stated. “Just because I’ve got a few bob (made some money) and I’m with Liverpool doesn’t mean I’m lucky. I’ve been very depressed. I would sooner be playing than sitting at home.
“I would love — really love — to go back to Oldham. And I would never go back to visit Liverpool again.”
Gradually, issues improved. He began to bond together with his team-mates. He nonetheless lived in Stockport however started to socialize with Nick Tanner, Charlie Boyd, Marsh and others.
Tanner, who arrived from Bristol Rovers in 1988, describes Harrison as “a big practical joker, the life and soul of the party. And he was always getting in trouble. If anything was going on, Thommo (Thompson) would be like, ‘What’s Wayne doing now?’.”
Marsh has comparable recollections. “He was a brilliant lad, a proper funny lad,” Marsh says. “He had a great sense of humour, a bit offbeat. When I say ‘offbeat’, I mean he would push it as far as he could to try to have a laugh. He wasn’t a goody-two-shoes, by any means. He would do anything for a laugh.”
Laughing and cringing, Tanner recounts a narrative from one other pre-season journey to Cornwall when a gaggle of the gamers went sea fishing, taking beers and Cornish pasties on board with them. They had been out at sea when Harrison dived off the boat, swam beneath and out the opposite aspect together with his team-mates, who had been in on the joke, began shrieking, feigning misery, shouting “Man overboard!” and telling the vessel’s poor skipper to name the coastguard.
Harrison swam all the best way again to shore — and received out of the water to be confronted with a livid Thompson.
It was contact and go whether or not Liverpool would prolong Harrison’s contract past the summer season of 1989 or just let him go quietly to permit him to start out his profession afresh elsewhere. He ended up staying on the mutual understanding that the 1989-90 season can be make or break.
Ultimately, it was each.
“Gradually, things started to turn for Wayne and, my goodness, that season everything clicked for him,” Thompson says. “You could see the change in his whole demeanour. All of a sudden we were all thinking, ‘Now we have a player on our hands’. It was literally wow-factor.
“I remember Wayne saying to me he felt he could score whenever he was on the pitch. His form was amazing. You could tell the weight had been lifted off his shoulders.”
He scored 17 objectives that season as Liverpool reserves gained their league title.
“He was doing everything right to get into the first team,” Tanner says. “But a) he had Rushy (Ian Rush) and Peter Beardsley in front of him, b) Liverpool were winning everything, c) there were only two subs (per team per game) in those days and d) clubs would go full-strength in the cup games too.
“A young player in that situation at Liverpool these days would be on the bench for the first team every week, they’d play in the cup matches and they’d probably have a championship winner’s medal. In those days it was so hard to break through.”
But Harrison was heading in the right direction finally… till the ultimate moments of the final reserve recreation of the season, in opposition to Bradford City at Anfield, when he chased a ball into the penalty space and ended up in a heap beneath the opposition goalkeeper.
“I can picture it,” Thompson says. “Final minutes of the game, Anfield Road end, near the byline, the goalkeeper going up and falling awkwardly on Wayne’s leg. He was in agony.”
In interviews later, Harrison described feeling “physically sick”, saying his knee felt “wobbly from the inside”. He was taken to hospital and missed the reserves’ trophy presentation and images on the pitch, although Marsh is pretty sure Harrison joined his team-mates within the pub later to have a good time.
“None of us realised how serious it was,” Marsh says. “It was probably the next day when we heard he might have done his cruciate ligament.
“Especially in those days, when someone did their cruciate, you really feared for them. And we really feared for Wayne.”
Adele was too certain up in household life to take a lot discover of her brother’s soccer profession. But she vividly recollects the 12 months that adopted: a grim routine of hospital visits, scans, operations, consultations and more and more bleak bulletins.
It was Graeme Souness, having succeeded Dalglish as supervisor in April 1991, who instructed Harrison the medical doctors had concluded that this was a dropping battle — if he carried on taking part in, he risked ending up crippled. He later described the information as “soul-destroying”, saying that he “got in the car and just drove around for four hours”, not figuring out what to do.
“You never think it’s going to happen to you,” Harrison instructed Shoot! in one other article a number of months later. “I left school at 16 without any qualifications. Football was all I was ever interested in. Football was my life. Now it’s all over and I’ve got to start thinking about another career. That’s the real problem.”
That was a unique period. Even the best-paid gamers of Harrison’s technology didn’t make sufficient from the sport to set them up for all times. Former team-mates at Liverpool counsel his wages are unlikely to have gone a lot past £300 per week — £15,600 a yr (just below $20,000 on the present change charge). He retired with out ever making the primary staff, so the hoped-for appearances and win bonuses by no means materialised. And now, at age 23, his skilled soccer profession was over.
Harrison obtained an insurance coverage payout and a pension from the Professional Footballers’ Association (PFA), the gamers’ commerce union in England. But Tanner, who additionally needed to retire from the sport early as a result of damage, says the sums had been “pretty miserly” within the context of the wages Harrison would possibly in any other case have had as a younger participant within the early Nineties with English soccer heading in the direction of the Premier League period.
Mick McGuire, a former Oldham team-mate who went on to work for the PFA, doesn’t dispute that. “It (the money he’s have received) was bugger-all, really,” he says.
Liverpool and Oldham agreed to play a testimonial match at Boundary Park in April 1992, with all proceeds going to Harrison. The attendance was reported at 4,400, incomes him round £15,000 — a welcome windfall, however removed from sufficient to safe his future.
The preliminary plan was for Harrison to play in that recreation — if solely only a few minutes for ceremonial functions. But even that proved past him.
There is a clip on YouTube from nationwide broadcaster ITV’s News At Ten programme that night, exhibiting Harrison limping barely, hand in his trouser pocket, as he leads the groups out. He is smiling, waving to the gang, however then seems to be awkward as he stands to a aspect to make approach for the gamers — “a final farewell,” says the ITV reporter, “to a game he was once set to dominate.”
In that latter Shoot! interview, Harrison spoke about his must go to varsity and “learn another trade”.
“I’ve thought about training to become a physio,” he stated. “But that could take years. I’ve got a mortgage to pay.”
Liverpool received in contact, providing monetary help, at which level he might have requested them to assist subsidise a physiotherapy course, however he nonetheless felt it could imply going too lengthy with out incomes. Instead, he requested if they may assist him prepare as a HGV (heavy items car) driver, so he might get a job as a drayman, delivering barrels of beer to pubs for Robinson’s, the native brewery.
“He enjoyed the work, driving around everywhere, taking the beer to the pubs, meeting people,” Adele says. “He knew a lot of the lads there and they would all have a laugh. But he always liked working. He worked at a shoe store in the market when he was 13. He bought his first house when he was 19. He was always a grafter and always savvy with his money.”
There had been occasions when Harrison defied medical recommendation to play soccer once more, making an unlikely comeback for Offerton Green within the Stockport District Sunday League — about as removed from the glamour of Anfield as you possibly can think about.
Local legend has it that, even together with his continual knee issues, he nonetheless gave opponents the runaround and scored objectives from the midway line.
But it was no good. Sometimes it could go away him in agony for days afterwards, typically for weeks. In the top, he needed to cease.
Harrison was briefly thrust again into the highlight in 2002, when Wayne Rooney made his spectacular breakthrough at Everton.
Here was one other teenager referred to as Wayne turning heads and being talked about as English soccer’s subsequent huge factor — and there was the cautionary story of a man named Wayne who, as an interview with The Times put it, had left “football’s fickle theatre” and turn out to be a forgotten man, delivering barrels of beer to a pub “on a cold, drizzly street in Stockport”.
There was a intelligent reference to his “bitter cargo” however that didn’t prolong to a chip on his shoulder. There was a cheery air of acceptance to that interview.
“Nobody recognises me these days, but I’m not bitter,” he instructed the newspaper. “But you do think about it all sometimes. Steve McManaman was my friend and look at him — he plays for Real Madrid. But I’ve been at the brewery now for five years and I love it.”
There had been occasions when Adele puzzled whether or not her brother may need been happier away from soccer: again amongst his associates in Stockport — not that he had ever actually left them behind — and as one of the lads once more, slightly than somebody whose standing introduced undesirable consideration from outsiders.
The quiet “mummy’s boy” had turn out to be way more outgoing in maturity. “He was the life and soul of the party,” she says. “If we went on a night out, everyone would be back to Wayne’s afterwards. He was so funny, always cracking one-liners and using cheesy chat-up lines,” she says. “And oh, the women…”
He appeared comfortable. Marsh says comparable of their occasional meet-ups in later years. “It was just two footballers talking about old times, reminiscing,” he says. “It wasn’t, ‘Show me your scars’. I’m sure he had his moments at home where it was tough for him, but Wayne was always one to keep his spirits up. If he had other things going on, I wasn’t aware of them.”
Few folks had been. But over time, the masks began to slide.
“Sometimes when it was just the two of us chatting, late at night, he would admit to me he was absolutely gutted,” Adele says. “I don’t know whether all the limelight at a young age affected him — I think it did — but then when he didn’t have it, he was heartbroken. It was his whole life, football. It took a grip of him, not being able to play football.”
He had turn out to be a father to a daughter, Faith, however he and her mom cut up up and so they moved away. “He hardly saw Faith after that,” Adele says. “That broke his heart too, because he worshipped her.”
Then there was the bodily ache in his knee. Moving on is tough sufficient for any athlete whose desires have been thwarted by damage. When the ache it leaves you with is nearly insufferable, a continuing reminder of these shattered desires and the value you paid for them, it should be tougher nonetheless.
“He had 20-something operations on his knee, but it was a mess,” Adele says. “It got to the point where he couldn’t drive, so he could no longer do that job (as a drayman). He could hardly walk at times. His hand was a mess, because of an accident. He couldn’t work anymore and really started to struggle. He was in so much pain.”
Thompson recollects an encounter in these later years.
“We talked about the difficult times he had at Liverpool and then he told me about all the operations he had since then,” he says. “I just thought, ‘My goodness, you’ve had a hard time of it’. Not only did the injuries end his playing career, but they caused mobility problems and made it hard for him to have a normal life afterwards.”
“Wayne changed,” Adele says. “He seemed to get old really quickly. He stopped caring for himself as much. He became a shadow of the person he used to be. I think he was depressed.”
As properly as his temper, his way of life deteriorated, as did his bodily well being. He drank, he smoked, he didn’t get out a lot. It turned a vicious circle. “He was the type of person who always wanted to be doing something and he found it hard being at home on his own,” Adele says. “I don’t think he could handle that.”
He was identified with pancreatic most cancers. He wanted to alter his way of life and to battle it, however, dragged down by a miserable cycle of hospital admissions and examinations, caught at dwelling, unable to work, confronted with what felt like a bleak future, he now not appeared to have the need to take action.
Even within the closing months, there was speak of healing surgical procedure. But the most cancers unfold and, after he was admitted to Stockport’s Stepping Hill Hospital in late 2013, it turned a matter of weeks after which, within the build-up to Christmas, days.
“I think he gave up in the end,” Adele says. “I think he could have fought it, but he just didn’t. He was in so much pain in the end. I think he had had enough.”
Those who knew Harrison properly describe that Christmas in 2013 as horribly bleak.
But Adele feels he’d have been comfortable to know his household and associates celebrated his life in the best way Wayne — or “Brian” as his associates knew him, one thing to do with the Monty Python film The Life Of Brian — would have loved. The crematorium was packed, with many mourners left outdoors.
They employed an Amy Winehouse tribute act to carry out on the wake — “and she didn’t have much on,” Adele says. “But Wayne loved his music. Motown, Northern Soul, Burt Bacharach… anything.”
At his cremation, they performed The Snake by Al Wilson. “That was his favourite,” Adele says. “We used to dance to it. Well, I would dance and he would give it a good go. I cry whenever it comes on now.”
The different music everybody remembers from that day is the Liverpool anthem, You’ll Never Walk Alone. Despite the miseries he endured there, regardless of ruing the day he signed for the membership, his affection for Liverpool continued. Dalglish, his hero, got here to the funeral, as did Thompson and a few of his former team-mates.
“I found the leaflet from his memorial service the other day,” Marsh, now a first-team coach at Preston North End within the Championship, says. “I said to my wife, ‘Bloody hell, doesn’t time fly?’.”
It does.
Ten years have handed since Harrison died and Liverpool and Oldham supporters stood collectively to pay tribute to him at Anfield. His household had been there that day as visitors of honour, with Adele’s accomplice Jon left star-struck by assembly Dalglish. A bus-load of Harrison’s associates had been there too. “They made a right noise,” Adele says. “They had banners and everything.”
The pre-game rendition of You’ll Never Walk Alone appeared notably poignant that day. But the uncomfortable reality is that Harrison walked alone virtually from the second he made that record-breaking transfer, left to hold a burden — of stress, expectation and hope — that took a heavy toll even earlier than the accidents that crushed his desires as soon as and for all. Physically in addition to mentally, the ache was all the time there.
For many of us, Christmas is a contented time of yr. For others, it’s synonymous with loneliness, anguish or loss. “For years after Wayne died, we didn’t celebrate Christmas at all,” Adele says. “We celebrate now and we’ve got a tree up for the grandchildren, but it has never felt the same.”
More not too long ago, Adele has misplaced her father, Alan, and her stepmother. Alan’s scrapbook is treasured to today, a valuable memento not solely of Wayne’s soccer expertise however of his father’s satisfaction in him.
As for his mom, Sheila, she nonetheless has Wayne’s ashes in her backyard. She desires to maintain him shut.
Adele is certain her brother would admire that.
(Top picture: Eamonn Dalton for The Athletic)
Whatever you’re going by way of, you possibly can name the Samaritans any time, from any telephone, on 116 123 (UK) or 1-800-273-TALK (USA).
Discussion about this post