All this talk about players making sure they don't "cross the line" in their onfield behaviour raises a thought: where precisely is this line?
It is a physical thing? Or a level of verbal abuse which goes too far? And anyway what is too far? Did Mitchell Johnson cross it in his confrontation with Scott Styris in Napier? And what about Styris?
Both players had their wallets lightened as a result of the incident which is about as effective a deterrent as being hit really hard by a feather.
Cricket's history book has no shortage of similar, or indeed far worse, incidents.
Remember Dennis Lillee kicking Javed Miandad's pads in a tasty set-to at Perth in 1982? Miandad waved his bat above his shoulder in a threatening manner in retaliation.
There's no shortage of cricketers who would have fancied giving the undeniably great, but indisputably mischevious Miandad a decent clip.
Still Lillee was bang out of order and got a couple of ODIs on the sideline for his trouble. Sufficient? When you're the magnificent "DK", moustachioed larrakin, folk hero and fast-bowling genius, it's a surprise an Australian authority gave him even that.
And only this summer, West Indian spinner Sulieman Benn got a two-ODI holiday for a scrape with Johnson and Brad Haddin, also in Perth. The Australians got fined, which seemed a curious judgment on the three.
The reaction to the Johnson-Styris blue is instructive. While there has been a measure of tut-tutting, there has also been much of what could be termed a sneaking regard for Styris standing tall, staring down the great green and gold bruising machine.
What you think of the players' behaviour may also relate to your age. Broadly speaking, if you've blown out 50 candles you're likely unimpressed by it all.
Still to lurch away from your 21st birthday, and you're launching the Scott Styris Fan Club.
All this talk of going toe-to-toe misses an important point.
There's the macho-posturing type of hard man. This is popular with fast bowlers who feel the need to fire off invective to accompany hurling the ball past the batsman's nose.
But it also takes a less obvious form. Having a strength of mind, to go with strength of purpose, takes care of all that without the need for piling up the verbal diarrhoea.
What is and is not acceptable seems fluid. The International Cricket Council has a code of conduct, but it leaves open to each match referee whether he feels a particular incident warrants a punishment, a finger wagging or a free pass.
So the Johnson-Styris carry-on could have had the pair seeing a red card; equally getting a telling off.
Truth be told, Styris seems to quite enjoy those in-your-face moments, as was abundantly clear with his spray at anyone within earshot after hitting the winning runs in Napier.
Back to the "line". The verbals are a grey area, assessed on individual merit, or lack of; physical challenges should be out of order, and the umpires need to smarten up their part in that.
Around 30 years ago a leading batsman got a hefty verbal barrage from a prominent fast bowler at the fag end of a test.
Afterwards there was a knock on the bowler's dressing room door. The batsman politely asked for a word. He walked across and told the bowler: "If you ever say that to me again during a match, neither of us will play for our country again."
The meaning was clear: ding ding, seconds out.
What price the next step being blows exchanged during an international?
<i>David Leggat</i>: Styris-Johnson blue in curious grey area
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