The Corridor of Certainty

If ever I harboured doubts about Peter Roebuck's ability to supply good prose in awkward situations they were dispelled on the afternoon of February 29, 1996 in Pune, the day when Kenya pulled off one of the greatest of cricket's shocks, by beating West Indies in a World Cup match.

Being an independent man with many interests beyond the boundary, Roebuck had not gone to the game but, having been briefed on its twists and turns, he wrote an excellent report for his Australian readers, who could have been forgiven for thinking he had been there. It was Roebuck at his best: informative, ruminative and amusing.

It's a shame that he has fallen out with England - though it might be fair to say this solitary, bookish man was never really `in' with English cricket - because he is a rare example of a former player who has something to offer our sports pages. Leaving aside the two Michaels, Selvey and Atherton, and of course the evergreen Jack Bannister, the assembly of former pros who now serve as correspondents is hardly a distinguished collection.

But Roebuck has made his choice to live in Sydney and South Africa, where he polishes his grudge against the land of his birth like a new ball. He is right about England in many ways. Our press is indeed guilty of all sorts of mendacity, and there are plenty of other faults with this overcrowded, debased country, but they do not provide him with a licence to shower `John Bull' insults on those who, while acknowledging the defects, do not regard England as the worst of all places.

To these observer's eyes at least, John Bullism has no part in sport. We see it at its worst in football, where the BBC sets a lamentable example by employing oiks like Ian Wright, who refer to England as "we", and cheer as the goals go in (or don't). We "go to ground early"; they dive. We are "committed"; they are filthy cheats, and have the refs in their pockets. Shamefully it is now part of BBC policy to exploit the entirely manufactured nature of celebrity to give its sports coverage the `common touch'. It's common all right. It's also revolting.

There is also an unhealthy obsession with "the fans". Television producers love shots of people dressed in absurd costumes, or generally acting in a silly manner. Spectators, who should be no more than witnesses, are encouraged to become participants in the drama. Hence the proliferation of daft banners, and such like.

Cricket, by tradition, has never been a tribal sport. True cricket-lovers ("fans" simply won't do) have grown up with an aesthetic sense of the game, which goes beyond mere winning and losing. Of course we want England to do well. We want them to beat Australia this summer but if they don't it is not the end of the world. Australia remain an outstanding side, and anybody who fails to enjoy the skills of Warne, McGrath, Ponting, Gilchrist and Martyn is better off staying at home.

So most of us are with Roebuck when he encourages people to love the game for what it is, and to admire the players whatever their provenance. On the whole the English crowds are good in this respect, horrible Headingley excluded. The press are fairly welcoming, too. There have been one or two cheap laughs at the expense of the Aussies in the opening skirmishes of this summer's tour _- that startling defeat by Bangladesh more or less invited them - but there has been nothing remotely like the appalling personal abuse directed at the England rugby union team during the World Cup in Australia in 2003, when they were sentenced without trial for the unforgiveable offence of being English.

It is not like that with these Australian cricketers. Many of them have played county cricket over here, so they are well known, and there is a greater tolerance of Australians among the English media than of Englishmen in the Australian media. When one considers that the Australian face most familiar to us is Richie Benaud, the very model of balance in a broadcaster, that is not surprising.

When, at the height of the players' rivalry, American television tried to pair Johnny Miller with Jack Nicklaus in a shoot-out, Miller turned down the offer with the gracious comment, "it's not in the best interests of the game". That goes for cricket no less than golf. The interests of the game will always be greater than the immediate benefit for any one team.