I have been re-reading Brendon McCullum’s MCC Spirit of Cricket lecture delivered at Lord’s a little over a week ago. Richie Benaud delivered the first of these, in 2001, since when there have been contributions of the very highest order from some of the most esteemed names in the game.
For the breadth of its content and the overriding message it carried, McCullum nailed better than any of them what we really mean by the spirit of the game, a phrase enshrined in the laws but one so readily misunderstood. It is certainly my personal view that McCullum, someone who underwent an almost Damascene conversion on his journey through international cricket, is one of the most significant cricketers of my time. He is now a Middle Saxon for a short while too, which can only add to his esteem.
This time around, I was struck by something he said towards the end, almost in passing. Lou Vincent, a former team-mate of McCullum’s, and a troubled individual in any case, was a habitual match-fixer, for which his punishment, among other things, includes 11 life bans by the ECB ,one for each offence, as if a single life ban may not be sufficient. McCullum’s central point is not in any way to exonerate Vincent but to point to the manner in which he cooperated (only after he had been rumbled some may argue but that is surely true in most cases of criminal regret), his particular courage in testifying against Chris Cairns when he would have known his integrity would be shredded in court, and to regret that instead of banning him from any contact with the game, it has not – yet anyway – found a way of reintegrating him so that the lessons he learned can be used to the common good.
There was a resonance to this, because shortly after McCullum’s lecture, the Pakistan Cricket Board’s visa application for Mohammad Amir was approved by the Home Office, so that if all goes well (I really mean that), he will open the bowling for his country in the first Test at Lord’s, the ground where his own misdemeanour came to light. Amir’s crime – accepting payment for bowling no-balls to order – was slight compared with that of Vincent, a display of potential rather than real criminality, but he received a five-year ban by the ICC and six months in young offenders’ institutes in this country.
The criminal justice system here recognises imprisonment should serve purposes other than simply incapacitation: restitution, for example; or retribution; and to act as a deterrent. But there is also an element of rehabilitation, contingent in no small part on future cooperation, regret and remorse. I believe in Amir’s case, he was a vulnerable teenager, coerced by unscrupulous seniors, and that in his sentence, all aspects of this brief have been served, including the prescribed term of sentence. His was not a life sentence, and thus, the slate should be wiped clean.
Beyond that though – and here we return to McCullum’s point about Vincent – it is to be hoped the profile Amir has, particularly within his country, can now be used to the common good, in further helping cricket’s fight against corruption, something that had been endemic for decades and which, so it is said, is looking to spread its claws not only into the domestic T20 leagues but the women’s game as well. Cricket was slow off the mark in recognising, or at least acknowledging, the problem, and the manner in which McCullum, whatever the rights and wrongs of the case, describes the lack of diligence in taking testimony for the Cairns case, shows there is still plenty of cause for concern at international level. McCullum’s witness box experience will do little to encourage whistleblowers.
In this country, though, there is evidence within cricket that a compassionate approach to criminals who have served their punishment can see their personal experiences harnessed. In 2010, the Essex pace bowler Mervyn Westfield received a four-month prison sentence, served in Belmarsh, and a five-year ban, for conspiracy to defraud by spot-fixing during a county match, encouraged, it is alleged, by his Pakistani team mate Danish Kaneria, who while not facing criminal charges received a life ban. But three years ago, Westfield began working with the Professional Cricketers’ Association and the ECB as part of an education programme in the dangers of corruption in cricket. Earlier this year,the initiative took him to South Africa. He is, according to the PCA, providing valuable input in the fight against corruption.
Then there is Chris Lewis. A year ago, Lewis, an England cricketer, was released from prison, having served half of a 13-year prison sentence for smuggling liquid cocaine into the country. A drug dealer in other words. Now he too is working for the PCA, helping to reinforce their personal development programme which deals with the problems of life after cricket.
Cricket in this country should be proud of the way in which it can reintegrate and harness the experiences of those who have transgressed but paid a price. In no way do I condone the actions of Amir, Westfield, or Lewis but I welcome them all back. The good they can do will far outweigh any harm.
