Paul Thomas: Uphold cricket's values

To the editor:

Dear Sir,

I'm not an intolerant man. Indeed, like many of my generation I've learned, albeit with difficulty, to live with behaviour and social trends that must have my dear, departed parents spinning in their graves.

However, enough is enough. One of the few respites from the clamour and vulgarity of modern life is the game of cricket, with its timeless rhythms and Victorian values.

When I watch cricket, either live or on television, I don't expect to have to put up with ghastly displays of same-sex exhibitionism.

I expect wholesome family entertainment that upholds the game's traditional values.

In other words I expect to see:

* Abusive exchanges involving relentless use (apparent even to those of us who don't possess lip-reading skills) of fine old Anglo-Saxonisms.

* Flagrant disregard for the principle of accepting the umpire's decision, in the form of bolshie body language and tantrums involving relentless use of fine old Anglo-Saxonisms.

* Fielders appealing hysterically and cavorting like dervishes even though they know the batsman didn't hit the ball, in the hope of bluffing the umpire into making an incorrect decision.

* Batsmen standing their ground when they know they've snicked the ball, in the hope of bluffing the umpire into making an incorrect decision.

* Posturing and preening by umpires who think they, rather than the players, are the most important people in the game.

* Lingering close-ups of young women whose attire draws attention to their breathtaking physical endowments (preferably when my dear wife is making a cup of tea so I can give these natural wonders the close attention they deserve).

* Spectators brandishing signs that advertise their childishness and ignorance of basic grammar.

* Yobbish crowd behaviour, such as hurling objects at boundary fielders or obscene ad nauseam chants.

* Spectators interrupting the game by scampering naked around the field of play until brought down by security guards, hopefully in a classic cheek-to-cheek tackle.

* Rampant commercialisation in the form of advertising logos plastered on every conceivable surface - bats, players' uniforms, umpires' uniforms, sightscreens, the field itself.

* Batsmen equipped with pads, thigh pads, chest pads, armguards, protectors, batting gloves and helmets, marching off the field at the first fractional dimming of the light to avoid the risk of injury.

* Matches cut short by rain so we can wait with bated breath for the result to be decided by the fantastically abstruse and random Duckworth-Lewis system.

Sir, I would forcefully suggest that the above represent the essence of our summer game, a noble pursuit that shouldn't be sullied by crass, attention-seeking behaviour calculated to offend all normal, right-thinking people.

Yours etc,

Disgusted of Mission Bay.

A particularly British form of hypocrisy was on display again this week when Charles Kennedy, the leader of the centrist Liberal Democrats, was forced to resign after admitting he has a drinking problem.

Kennedy had been brushing off rumours for some time, but when a current affairs show informed his office that it was preparing an expose, he was forced to own up.

Some of his colleagues immediately denounced him for misleading them, Parliament and the nation. A party elder offered the view that having an alcoholic for a leader was "akin to a film director hiring a one-legged Tarzan". With friends like that, enemies are entirely superfluous. Within 48 hours, Kennedy was a goner.

The curious thing is that his drinking had been an open secret in Westminster for at least 18 months. In the wake of his resignation, an anonymous colleague told a reporter he'd known about it for 10 years.

Kennedy became party leader in 1999. When polls were consistently showing him to be Britain's most popular politician, his colleagues were quite happy to nod and wink at the official line that his periodic absences on major parliamentary occasions were caused by flu or exhaustion.

Kennedy's breezy charm has been a vote winner, but now that the Tories have a new, supposedly moderate, telegenic leader, Liberal MPs in traditional Tory seats feel vulnerable.

The party needed more vigorous leadership and a new direction, argued the conspirators, and overnight Kennedy's fondness for a wee dram became a fatal liability.

While Westminster is, by all accounts, the world's biggest drinking club, the British establishment has always striven to conceal its bibulousness from the taxpayer.

Winston Churchill, generally acknowledged as Britain's greatest leader, was by any definition an alcoholic, but to say so, even after his death, bordered on treason.

In 1967, the satirical magazine Private Eye invented the enduring euphemism "tired and emotional" to keep litigants at bay.

The term became synonymous with British Foreign Secretary George Brown, a formidable boozer who once brawled with American actor Eli Wallach before going on television to pay a tearful, rambling tribute to the just-assassinated President Kennedy.

Brown was kicked upstairs to the House of Lords when he became too much of an embarrassment. In 1976, the Times paid him this backhanded compliment: "Lord George-Brown drunk is a better man than the Prime Minister [Harold Wilson] sober."