Richard Boock: Don't get caught with your pants down

Let's get it straight once and for all. Daryl Tuffey was fined $1000 this week for breach of contract.

He wasn't penalised for breaking someone else's moral code, for skirting around one of the 10 commandments, or for losing faith in Sir Baden Powell's fundamental guidelines for young men; he wasn't even fined for being stupid.

Contrary to popular opinion, no line of judgment was drawn in the sand by his employer, and his team-mates were given no basis for thinking NZC might have a prurient interest in what's happening beyond their bedroom curtains.

As it happened, NZC's only consideration was a commercial one, and their case seemed pretty straightforward.

The way they saw it, Tuffey was paid a six-figure sum each year for not only playing the game, but for also promoting it through various activities, including commercial ventures, media initiatives, coaching and public appearances.

In short, the value of his contract was calculated on his worth both on and off the field.

NZC maintained that if a player acted in a manner that diminished his worth off the field, then he was no longer able to meet his contractual obligations, and they were therefore entitled to seek redress through official channels.

There was nothing much new about all this.

Television New Zealand sports presenter Tony Veitch was recently disciplined for appearing in an unauthorised advertisement, something his TV bosses maintained was out of line because it cast doubt on his independence.

And it's not hard to imagine the same executives hitting the roof if they found out that one of their weather presenters was appearing in Playboy magazine, not because of any moral concern but because of the effect on the channel's overall image.

So how could Tuffey's Animal House-type antics affect his promotional or commercial worth to NZC? Let us count the ways.

Would he be an appropriate choice to address a school assembly or to visit a retirement home? Would he be a good choice for helping the promotion of women's cricket - to which NZC are totally committed? Would he be the face on the cover of NZC's official programme?

As for the argument that the entire episode was created by NZC's public announcement of a misconduct inquiry, there was enough evidence circulating at the time to suggest several media outlets were gearing up for a major exposure.

Tuffey himself conceded to NZC that a video-clip of his frolic existed and that it had been shown around Christchurch, so it was never a story that was going to quietly fade away.

In fact, if the rumours had continued to run unchecked, it almost certainly would have resulted in a far bigger media circus, and potentially a much more damaging outcome for both NZC, Tuffey and his friends and family.

Say what you like, but damage control effectively cut the story off at the pass, and although there was some light-hearted interest in Tuffey's beverage of choice - a milkshake - it could have been much worse if everyone had stuck their heads in the sand.

For all that, there is still a moral to the Tuffey story, and one that the rest of the country's contracted players are sure to take notice of ... Those who trade on their public image can't afford to get caught with their pants down.