Amid the furore over the ball-tampering allegations against Australian cricketers Steve Smith, David Warner (pictured below) and Cameron Bancroft, what definitively shifted the mood was the press conferences at which Smith and Warner explained their side.
Both cricketers expressed unconditional regret before breaking down in full public view. Their response was not just teary-eyed; they wept freely as they admitted their mistakes. Smith, in particular, was bathed in contrition, as his father stood next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder from time to time.
Cricket has not been immune to controversies — indeed, it is one sport that, because it is equally popular in the West and East (barring the US), generally receives outsize coverage of its wrongdoings in the international press. From match-fixing to spot-fixing, and the recent glamorisation of the sport with IPL, purists have long given up hopes for the “gentleman’s game”.
Yet, the way the ball-tampering controversy evolved had a ring of catharsis to it. It finally brought out in the open the debate over a practice that has long been employed by bowlers to improve their chances on the field. What has changed is both its scale and the presence of high-definition cameras on the field which makes it near impossible to go undetected.
The backlash to the scandal has been fierce, most notably in Australia itself. The Prime Minister weighed in, calling the controversy “beyond belief” and a “shocking disappointment”. The scandal is said to have damaged the national psyche in a country where cricketers are idolised. (I found this latter claim a little over-the-top because it is hard to believe that a team recognised for sledging could be linked so strongly to fair play.)
David Warner, second right, arrives with his wife Candice
But this is a different team, and both Smith and Warner have displayed their métier on the field. Meanwhile, cricket administrations have also changed as more money has poured into the sport. Cricket Australia swiftly banned the duo from international cricket for a year and Bancroft for nine months.
For all that, though, the lasting impression from a tumultuous two weeks remains the press conferences. Cynics may deride the emotional outbursts of Smith and Warner as last-ditch efforts aimed at retaining some credibility with fans and administrators, but this analysis does not ultimately wash.
There are two reasons for this. One, of course, is the nature of the beast. Cricket, or any global sport for that matter, is an intensely competitive enterprise today, with billions riding on the difference between success and failure. It is easy-not justifiable but easy — to get swayed if victory is assured in the bargain.
Second, sport is emotionally taxing, perhaps more so than the physical demands it puts on the player. The flip side of this is that sportsmen are also emotionally vulnerable, measuring their worth through their performance and seeking some form of personal redemption by triumphing on the field.
Some combination of these factors played a part in what went down in the dressing room during the third test match against South Africa. Warner, it transpires, was the villain of the act, persuading Bancroft to do the deed, while Smith’s error was one of omission, which becomes grievous in light of his captaincy.
Yet, leadership is not just about always making the right decisions. It is also about admitting one has been wrong and seeking forgiveness. Sure, it may be a stretch to apply these principles to what was a clear illegality but if sport is about harnessing the best of the human spirit, it must also occasionally allow for our less noble instincts.
Interestingly, the Australian Church also issued a statement, seeking forgiveness for the cricketers. “When we all look at our own selves, we recognise we’ve all been there, we’ve had our own failures,” Archbishop Glenn Davies said over the Easter weekend. “Perhaps not quite as public as Steve Smith’s and the other two, but failures nonetheless. If it’s hard enough to confront and stand up to a press gallery and admit you’re wrong, what would it be like to stand before the living God and admit that you were wrong?”
The Archbishop’s statement brings out another aspect of the scandal: the public nature of the cricketers’ shaming. It is natural to argue that this is only to be expected, given the pedestals sporting stars are put on, but that does not detract from the fact that we internalise humiliation to a far greater degree than we do praise.
With Warner opting to take up the matter legally, we are yet to hear the last word on the scandal. But this episode will go down in cricketing history as one that changed many assumptions about the sport, an event that will likely change the game for the better. Its ultimate lesson, however, would be in a decidedly off-field realm: our capacity to bear our mistakes and that of others to let us live with them.
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