JAMES CRAIG was sitting in a car park outside the flat he was then living in when he was first approached by a figure in a blue cagoule with brown dishevelled hair who looked physically impaired, as if he might have suffered a stroke or was afflicted by some other condition that had affected his movement.

He can describe him minutely, right down to the hole he has in his right shoe, because he has been re-visited by him repeatedly since. This man never speaks, preferring to stare directly at the former Scotland winger.

Craig’s description carries shades of a Gothic horror movie, but this is all too real and for many years it was something he did not dare discuss with anyone other than those closest to him.

Read more: "I had a minimum of 15 head injuries

The man in the cagoule is only one of many hallucinations from which he has suffered since early in a playing career that saw him emerge, all too briefly, as one of the most exciting homegrown talents of the past quarter of a century, but he feared he would expose himself to ridicule if he shared his experience more widely.

"It was in 1999 I had my first hallucination and they’ve been reasonably regular ever since. Also at that point my behaviour started to become quite erratic. Lots of highs, lots of lows which I was hiding from people. They would probably put it down to me being conceited and even now when I’m in a certain type of mood I’ll avoid contact with people, avoid speaking to them. It’s hard to explain. You just don’t want to talk to anyone. I have no doubt that was down to rugby."

Those feelings are, themselves, partly a symptom of what has now, very belatedly, been diagnosed as a bipolar disorder, but also reflects his upbringing in cultures that have, traditionally, struggled to deal with such issues.

What passes for humour in Scotland, all the more acutely in the rugby community, with accusations that individuals are too soft can be deeply hurtful and even now that he has the proper support in places there are times when Craig is feeling down that he will avoid contact with other people. What makes that all the more telling is that, having retired from playing as a result of a leg injury in 2004, aged just 27 with a handful of Scotland appearances behind him, he has made a new career for himself in IT and acknowledges his has largely been a charmed life.

Born into Glasgow sporting royalty, as the son of Lisbon Lion Jim, he was one of four siblings who enjoyed a privileged education, attending St Aloysius College, where the boys were introduced to the alternative footballing code of rugby.

They were all fine players but James’ exceptional pace singled him out and, having burst onto the scene as a teenager, he was among Scotland’s first professional players.

His problems largely began there, however, because a combination of the prevalent macho environment which meant many players and coaches regarded those admitting to injury as weak and the pressure of competing for selection and the career advancement, attached to earning capacity which went with that, hugely increased his exposure to risk.

His pace and position were factors, too, because by comparison with those principally operating closer to set-piece and breakdown, his job was to find the room to get up a full head of steam, making the impact of what collisions did occur all the more telling.

His conservative estimate is that he suffered a minimum of 15 significant head knocks in the course of his professional career, often down-playing the consequences.

“Whether it was being fully knocked out or getting a bang on the head and double vision or being hit hard where you get to that point where you’re groggy, a lot of the times you don’t own up to these things. You know, you get up and you play on,” he explained.

“My most severe one was at Hughenden against Cardiff when I was out for the count and managed to get back up. Contrary to popular belief you don’t forget things when this happens and I could remember everything.

“I was asked questions and at that point we didn’t have tests if I remember correctly, just questions like what day is it or where are you. There’s been multiple occasions when that happened and on some occasions you got headaches, but I don’t know if it’s that you don’t think it would happen to you or you didn’t know much about it, but you knew you could get concussed and that there was a possibility you might feel sick afterwards, but apart from that not much else.”

By the time he stopped playing he had been suffering for five years from severe mood swings encompassing manic episodes when highs could involve wild spending sprees or lodging ridiculous bets and suicidal feelings when low.

He jokes darkly that one might easily have brought about the other on one occasion when he was still living with his parents in 2008 and he bet £1000 on Roma to win a football match. Luckily his genetic understanding of footballing matters came through as the Italian club won that match, but he is only too aware of the risk to which he was exposing himself and those around him.

The extreme nature of his behaviour was such that it also cost him his first marriage but things took new turn for the better when he got together with second wife Amanda. When the couple's daughter started primary school Craig’s behavioural issues continued to be such that Amanda persuaded him to get professional help in February last year.

“Even sitting in the waiting room I was apprehensive and nervous, almost, sort of, not quite intimidated, but not wanting to have to go and tell the doctor you’re feeling the way you do,” Craig recalled.

“They’ve diagnosed it as being bipolar. I’ve only known that since then. Prior to that I thought I was just depressed from time to time, but I do get these big highs too.

“Going through a manic episode is like somebody wiring you up to the mains. That really is the best way to describe it. It’s an excess of energy in your body that just doesn’t feel right."

What happens at the opposite end of the scale needs no spelling out but the medication Craig now takes has a modulating effect or, as he puts it: “It’s like a ripple on a lake as opposed to big waves.”

Intelligent enough to find it fascinating that chemicals in the brain can cause him to hear heavy breathing in his ear when there is none, think the house is on fire because he is encountering an acute, but non-existent burning smell, or indeed that even though knows his perception is playing tricks on him when, seeing a dragon sitting on top of Glasgow’s Central Station, he is to be commended both for his honesty and his willingness to count his blessings.

“I’m lucky because my hallucinations are pseudo-hallucinations where, to a certain extent, I can perceive what’s real and what’s not real,” said Craig.

While, then, he resents facing the prospect of long-term, perhaps lifelong dependence on medication, that has not resulted itself in antipathy towards the sport he loved playing as a youngster and from which he once earned his living.

Admitting wryly to sexist tendencies when it comes to the prospect of his daughter playing rugby he says that if he had sons he would not be opposed to them following in his footsteps. Furthermore, while he believes that he and his colleagues should have been better protected in a sport which became professional some 13 years after England and Lions captain Bill Beaumont quit because of repeated concussions, he has reservations about whether former rugby players will follow their NFL counterparts in pursuing compensation.

“I think we should have been looked after a bit better than we were but in terms of the players getting together I don’t know… and going the same way as the NFL I’m not entirely sure about that either. That seems to be a real storm over there as far as sport goes,” Craig observed.

In speaking out his priority is to alert others to the dangers of what is a brutal sport. “It is an important issue and I want to get the message out there,” said Craig.

“Players will see all this stuff and they might not necessarily take it very seriously, but they should do. It’s the rest of your life, it’s not just when you’re playing.

“I’ve got a good life. Others could end up an awful lot worse off.”