It ain’t Lance Armstrong at the Tour de France, folks

What’s the difference between South African, Indian, English and Australian cricket?

When a South African player, Faf du Plessis, gets nicked for ball tampering (twice) he is made captain. When Sachin Tendulkar does it he remains a demigod. England’s Mike Atherton became a few thousand quid poorer. In Australia we assemble an ugly mob who bay for the blood of our cricketers and get to work with the four-by-two and a packet of roofing nails.

These distinctions offer an unusual look at national identity. Put succinctly, Australians lost their minds and their judgment over a piece of tape, some pitch dirt and a cricket ball.

I’m not sure I would refer to what happened at Cape Town between 2.00pm and 2.42pm local time as cheating. It’s an unhelpful term given approximately 99 per cent of Australians don’t understand the vagaries of reverse swing and how a cricket ball tampered with or not may suddenly start swinging around corners or stubbornly refuse to shift one millimetre off its trajectory.

It was not cheating by any legal definition. Broadly speaking, common law defines cheating as a contrived act set to deny people of proprietary rights. In Australia, where criminal law refers to cheating, it usually falls into the category of obtaining financial benefit by an act of deception. In the UK, where laws for cheating on the sporting field were brought in recently and used in the prosecution of Pakistan cricketers, Salman Butt and Mohammad Asif, Smith and Co.’s actions would not, by definition, rouse the interest of the plod.

When madness abounds, it is sensible to return to some measure of sanity by using the terms the rules stipulate. It was a code violation grade two (of four with four being the most serious).

Full column here.