Chris Cairns arrives at Southwark Court in London this morning. Tuesday 24th November 2015 New Zealand Herald Photograph By Chris Gorman
Chris Cairns arrives at Southwark Court in London this morning. Tuesday 24th November 2015 New Zealand Herald Photograph By Chris Gorman
Opinion
When the jury finally returns to give its verdict in the Chris Cairns perjury trial at Southwark Crown Court, it will be a very sporting denouement. There will be a winner. There will be a loser.
If the loser is Cairns, no doubt the anguish will be etched on a face that has appeared to become more pitted and creased with each passing week of his personal hell.
If Cairns is found not guilty of having perjured himself in his libel trial success over Lalit Modi, the founder of the Indian Premier League who accused him of match-fixing, he will almost certainly let out a huge sigh of relief.
He will be vindicated. But it will do little to blow away the festering air of suspicion which hangs over the sport as a whole. And has done for 25 years. That is why, whoever triumphs or suffers disaster, whoever is punished or bounds free, the one thing we can be unequivocal about is that cricket will be the sorry, pitiful loser.
The eight-week rigmarole has taken its toll. There have been as grubby, as distasteful periods before for a game, rightly or wrongly, considered the paragon of virtue in this sporting world. The Hansie Cronje affair had cricket bent double. The Pakistan no-ball fix scandal brought it to its knees. That it has stooped so low before, and no doubt will do so again, shames its traditions, its supporters, its protagonists.
So what can cricket do to try to reduce the chance that it never again has to have its days, weeks and months in court? Specifically, what now for the ceaseless fight against gambling corruption?
The Cairns trial has raised some interesting and troubling questions. The International Cricket Council's Anti-Corruption and Security Unit has, once again, been portrayed as being less than rigorous when conducting investigations. The future likelihood of current and former players as witnesses or 'whistleblowers' could be considered in doubt.
It is the role of the ACSU, however, which will cause more furrowed brows. It is a unit which the ICC have little faith in, although the paymasters are guilty, chronically so, of failing to provide the unit with either the manpower or funding to do a proper job. There have been two reviews into its workings since 2011, with the latest completed in January this year.
At the heart of the mistrust is the fact that although there have been 19 players banned for corruption since 2011, the ACSU has been responsible for only two of them. In a results business, it's not good.
Lou Vincent was not one of their two. Even before the trial the ACSU were criticised for the urgency of a sloth in dealing with his confession and it was down to the England and Wales Cricket Board's anti-corruption team to take up the mantle.
It was also discussed at the trial that Brendon McCullum, the New Zealand captain, had given evidence to the ACSU as far back as February 2011 about two alleged approaches from Cairns. Before this trial, it was pertinent then to be wondering what exactly were the ACSU doing? We have an answer. Not a lot.
Lou Vincent arrives at Southwark Crown Court with his partner Susie Markham. Photo / Chris Gorman
Orlando Pownall, Cairns' QC, had the bit between his teeth when he had John Rhodes, the Australasian head of the ACSU, in the witness box. Pownall suggested the ACSU had done "nothing" in response to McCullum's allegations. Rhodes countered that because the Indian Cricket League - the tournament where Cairns' alleged approach took place - was not a sanctioned ICC event, the governing body had no jurisdiction. It was, surely, argued Pownall "potentially momentous".
Indeed it was. The notion that because match-fixing was taking place in someone else's backyard rather its own, the ICC would be disinterested will revolt most fans. Cairns, after all, had played ICC sanctioned tournaments his whole career.
Orlando Pownall QC, the lawyer for Chris Cairns. Photo / Chris Gorman
Corruption in cricket is a disease. Backpacker Twenty20 players pick it up in one country and pass it on in the next. The virus does not respect which tournaments have the stamp of the ICC secretary. The failure of the ACSU to recognise this is to fail the game. This has to change.
Rhodes, in his defence, said that he was just "collecting information" and that it was down to his superiors to investigate his findings. He also admitted he failed to make a note of a conversation with Daniel Vettori during which the former Kiwi captain spoke of asking Cairns to buy him a diamond ring with sponsorship money. Rhodes said he had lost his diary for 2011.
"Corners were cut, normal action was left to one side with a view to achieving the scalp of Chris Cairns," Pownall suggested during the trial.
As infuriating as that sounds from Rhodes, it highlights a graver issue than forgetfulness. One of the key points raised in the last review into the ACSU was a lack of standard operating procedures. Information would be collected but no-one knew whose job it was to investigate, or even decide whether to carry on an investigation. Such a public shaming must surely expedite a shake-up.
Brendon McCullum leaves Southwark Crown Court in London. Photo / Chris Gorman
The ACSU's reputation among players is mixed. This could be downgraded as a result of the trial. That is because of the treatment meted out to McCullum and Vettori in the witness box. Both men had their integrity called into question, an experience which few cricketers would want to explore.
It is hugely significant. The ACSU have, privately, spoken of their angst about how few players speak out. The number prepared to do so - and potentially be embarrassed by a sharp-witted QC - in future could be about the same amount of No 11s who would relish facing a nasty fasty without a helmet.
Finally, a note for legal eagles. And a frightening footnote for supporters, too. Was Pownall hinting in his exchange in court with Rhodes that spot-fixing was a lesser crime than match-fixing? McCullum's statement mentioned "spread betting" - another term for spot-fixing, which is the manipulation of a small section of the game rather than the outcome. Pownall pointed out to the jury that McCullum had never mentioned match-fixing. Or was he being cute, reminding the court that this was a trail about match-fixing, and not a degree of it?
Chris Cairns arriving for day one of the trial. Photo / Chris Gorman
Does the law recognise the discrepancy? We will find out.
Does cricket recognise the discrepancy? Should it? To most they are one and the same. And the fact that either exists, in a courtroom, in a dressing room, hotel suite or out in the middle ensures, horribly, that cricket will be the only loser when the head juror clears his throat.
Ed Hawkins is an international authority on match-fixing and author of Bookie Gambler Fixer Spy, 2013 Wisden Cricket Book of the Year
