There is a strange and growing delusion in the modern world that a talent for playing a sport qualifies an individual to be a moral guide. Modern cricketers are no longer merely athletes - they are expected to be virtuous, unblemished citizens and pillars of community standards.
This expectation is as unrealistic as it is unfair. Cricketers should not be held to a higher standard than the general population. To demand otherwise is to misunderstand both the nature of elite sport and human nature.
The most obvious question is simple: why have cricketers become role models? They did not ask for it. A young girl or boy picks up a cricket bat because they love the thrill of the contest, the satisfaction of a perfectly timed cover drive, or the exhilaration of rattling a batter's off stump. They do not sign up to become guardians of community morals.
A cricketer's contract is an agreement to perform on the field - not a vow of abstinence, sobriety and perpetual politeness. When we force them onto a moral pedestal, we set them up for a fall, judging them by standards the general public could never hope to maintain.
Cricketers are human beings with normal frailties. They suffer from the same insecurities, temptations, lapses in judgement, and emotional pressures as the butcher, the baker, and the corporate executive. The only difference is that the local accountant does not have their private life dissected by millions on social media.
By expecting cricketers to live as saints, we demand perfection from young men and women who have been thrust into the spotlight, often with great wealth accompanying, before they have fully matured. That is not idealism; it is, frankly, cruel.
The history of our great game makes this point obvious. Cricket has always been populated by flawed but fascinating, thoroughly colourful, characters. The sport was built on the backs of rebels and rogues, not monks.
Consider Colin Ingleby-Mackenzie, who famously led Hampshire to their first County Championship title in 1961. Known for his joyful, relaxed leadership, he once said he was perfectly happy as long as everyone was home in bed by breakfast. His philosophy did not ruin the team; it allowed them to play with a freedom that captivated the public.
Think, too, of Keith Miller, who balanced wartime heroism with a love for horse racing, music and revelry. Think of Shane Warne, Frank Worrell, Garry Sobers, Imran Khan and Ian Botham. These men were not saints. They lived life at a roaring gallop, frequently testing the patience of administrators and filling the gossip columns.
Would we erase their exploits from the history books? Absolutely not. Their skill on the pitch and their spirit off it were inseparable. You cannot decouple the free-spirited batter or bowler from the free-spirited individual. When we sanitise the personality, we sanitise the game.
Cricketers should be admired primarily for their cricket. If a player performs on the field and respects the laws of the land, their private life should remain just that: private. Cricket boards, chief executives and integrity units are not shadow judiciaries. It is not their job to pass moral judgement on lifestyles, late nights, or personal indiscretions that violate no actual laws. When sporting bodies try to act as arbiters of private morality, they inevitably end up mired in hypocrisy. If a cricketer breaks the law, let the legal system handle them like any other citizen. If they are not punished, let them play. Selection, not curfews, should be the ultimate arbiter.
The obsessive policing of player behaviour has not made cricket a better sport. It threatens to give us a generation of media-trained, cautious, and occasionally bland athletes terrified of showing their true personalities - trading away the genius of the maverick for a sterile, corporate image of respectability.
It is time to dismantle the pedestal. Let us appreciate cricketers for the joy and drama they provide between the boundary ropes. Let us accept that they are beautifully, entirely human - complete with the same flaws and frailties as the rest of us.
Cricket is not a church. It is a magnificent, unpredictable contest played by brilliant, imperfect people. Let's enjoy it as such.