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It does
not say much for the ability of the cricketing community to cleanse its
game that this weekend, more than five years after the stain of
match-fixing had come to our attention, we still find ourselves mulling
over what might or might not have happened somewhere in India in 1993. For
so long the cricketing authorities seemed determined to ignore the
problem. Remember that the first serious allegations, made by Mark Waugh
and Shane Warne against Salim Malik in February 1995, only became public
knowledge after leaks to the Sydney Morning Herald. The Australian Cricket
Board would have preferred to keep the story under wraps in the hope that
the problem would somehow magically evaporate. So would all the others.
It didn't and - oh so - slowly there have been attempts to ensure that the
game's integrity is restored but these are so easily fractured by national
allegiances. Take this week for example. In the wake of the allegations
against Alec Stewart, the ECB's Chairman, Lord MacLaurin has had to
backtrack - or in his eyes 'clarify' his position - about what to do with
players under suspicion. Meanwhile, his opposite number in Pakistan,
General Tauqir Zia, could not resist an open goal. 'They [the ECB] did not
realise that if they throw stones at any country, the same thing may come
back on them,' he said. Somehow the head of the ICC's Anti-Corruption
Unit, Sir Paul Condon - the possessor of 'safe hands' according to Stewart
- must seek to cut through national barriers in pursuit of the truth.
Stewart, by his own admission, has just endured the most harrowing few
days of his career. In England he has been the focal point of discussion
about the CBI's report though the allegations against him, which occupy no
more than a couple of paragraphs, are piffling compared to with those
against Mohammed Azharuddin, Brian Lara or Aravinda de Silva.
If it wasn't for the case of Hansie Cronje we would all be swatting away
the allegations of the Indian bookmaker, Mukesh Gupta, about his dealings
with Stewart as if they were no more an irritant than a persistent fly.
Cronje, we thought, was the last person who might become embroiled with
dubious bookmakers. We now think the same about Stewart but unfortunately
for him in the wake of the revelations about Cronje, we never say 'never'
again.
Stewart's denial that he has ever received money for information has been
emphatic. But even if the allegations of Gupta were true, it would not
have represented the end of the world for Stewart. In his testimony Gupta
said that Stewart refused to fix matches. Moreover, back in 1993 when
Stewart was touring India as England's vice-captain, we were unaware of
the bookmaker's ploy of offering 'sweeteners' for banal information before
entrapping cricketers to manipulate games. In those innocent days how many
players would have scorned the chance of such easy and apparently harmless
money? From WG Grace onwards cricketers have sought to maximise their
earning potential and Stewart is no exception to this rule.
If Stewart had acknowledged the allegations to be true his only problem
would have been explaining why he hadn't mentioned this to the authorities
in the past 12 months, when the issue of match-fixing has finally come to
the fore. Now he only has a problem if his denial is false. That would
constitute a far greater offence than taking the money in the first place.
For the moment we must assume that Stewart is telling the truth even if
this leaves us bewildered why Gupta, whose association with most of the
other players named in the CBI report is not in question, should name
Stewart in the first place.
However uncomfortable Stewart has been feeling over the past few days, his
situation is infinitely preferable to that of de Silva, Lara and
Azharuddin. Gupta, upon whom the findings of the CBI report depend so
heavily, alleged that de Silva and Lara both took money to underperform, a
charge on a completely different scale to passing on infor mation. De
Silva, who is one of the most popular cricketers in the world (they adored
him when he played for Kent) and Lara, who isn't, both refute these
allegations.
Azharuddin, however, seems to be sunk. He, alongside four other Indian
cricketers (Jadeja, Mongia, Sharma and Prabhakar), has already been banned
from playing by the Indian Board. In the report Azharuddin admits to
fixing at least two one-day matches and a life ban must be on the cards.
His plight encapsulates the sickness of modern cricket.
Back in 1984 when England were touring I witnessed his entry into
first-class cricket. He was impossibly shy but clearly a minor genius, who
scored three centuries in his first three Tests during which he would whip
the ball to the legside boundary with magical wrists and as if embarrassed
by his precocious talent, would stare down at his feet until the next ball
arrived. Along with de Silva he was the most enchanting, if not the most
productive batsman, of the past decade or more. All of which now counts
for nothing. He has played more one day internationals - 334 - than any
other cricketer, a statistic, I suggest, that is not unconnected with his
fall from grace.
Azharuddin must bear the responsibility for his actions but he was
unfortunate to play in an era when the one-day international match was so
devalued. Too often in the crazy international calendar of the Nineties no
one, not even the players, really cared who won or lost, but rather how
much they could make out of the game. |

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