This morning in The Times the sportswriter Simon Barnes described it as the worst example of cheating in sport, and who’s to disagree. The idea that a young Formula One racing driver should be asked by his team boss to crash at high speed with incalculable consequences to himself, other drivers and even spectators, so that another team-member can win a race, is deeply shocking.
This is no longer sport as we like to conceive of it. Arguably, if we were to do some linguistic analysis of the notion of ‘sport’, we might conclude that in fact we should have to define such actions out of the term. Have an argument around the family table about that one.
As Barnes points out, money is the determining factor in all Formula 1 business, and so a turn of events like this isn’t completely surprising. Money has been the theme behind many of the articles in this blog, alongside dissertations on the aesthetics of the Game We Love, to the point that to underline the issues again would be wearisome. However, and not in the spirit of ‘I told you so’, I did say at the outset that Pietersen and Flintoff would be crucial factors in the account of this summer, that I expected that never subsequently would they be a major part of English cricket success, and that knowing what the major stories of the season might be was difficult.
Perhaps the most significant event of all is Flintoff’s announcement this week that from now on he intends to be ‘free-lance’. There’ll be no allegiance to Lancashire, his home club, or to England, except when he chooses to make himself available (which will presumably be only for major one-day tournaments). He’ll go where there’s most financial reward. His choice of agent, one Chubby Chandler, should have led us to expect this. Some commentators have welcomed the decision as a brave new honest world for cricket, and to be sure where Flintoff has led, others, presumably Pietersen included, will follow sooner rather than later. We will have to get used to enjoying the flowering of great talent for a shorter time, until sufficient momentum has been generated for the player concerned to take his business where the real money is.
It’s hard to conceive where this all takes us. I’ve already sketched out some of the possibilities. Hard though, not to feel a certain despair that in terms of direction of travel and theme, so much time, so many words have been spent on this.
As far as Flintoff goes, personally I hope that England wishes him well, but doesn’t consider him for selection again. They must move on without regret, accepting that he was a whole-hearted trier for his country, who ultimately failed to deliver to his full potential but gave us many memorable moments. We will have to learn to love the ones we’re with, game by game, and not grow too fond of them. And thank God, that in contrast with motorsport or football or athletics, the opportunities for the perversion of our sport are limited.
This is no longer sport as we like to conceive of it. Arguably, if we were to do some linguistic analysis of the notion of ‘sport’, we might conclude that in fact we should have to define such actions out of the term. Have an argument around the family table about that one.
As Barnes points out, money is the determining factor in all Formula 1 business, and so a turn of events like this isn’t completely surprising. Money has been the theme behind many of the articles in this blog, alongside dissertations on the aesthetics of the Game We Love, to the point that to underline the issues again would be wearisome. However, and not in the spirit of ‘I told you so’, I did say at the outset that Pietersen and Flintoff would be crucial factors in the account of this summer, that I expected that never subsequently would they be a major part of English cricket success, and that knowing what the major stories of the season might be was difficult.
Perhaps the most significant event of all is Flintoff’s announcement this week that from now on he intends to be ‘free-lance’. There’ll be no allegiance to Lancashire, his home club, or to England, except when he chooses to make himself available (which will presumably be only for major one-day tournaments). He’ll go where there’s most financial reward. His choice of agent, one Chubby Chandler, should have led us to expect this. Some commentators have welcomed the decision as a brave new honest world for cricket, and to be sure where Flintoff has led, others, presumably Pietersen included, will follow sooner rather than later. We will have to get used to enjoying the flowering of great talent for a shorter time, until sufficient momentum has been generated for the player concerned to take his business where the real money is.
It’s hard to conceive where this all takes us. I’ve already sketched out some of the possibilities. Hard though, not to feel a certain despair that in terms of direction of travel and theme, so much time, so many words have been spent on this.
As far as Flintoff goes, personally I hope that England wishes him well, but doesn’t consider him for selection again. They must move on without regret, accepting that he was a whole-hearted trier for his country, who ultimately failed to deliver to his full potential but gave us many memorable moments. We will have to learn to love the ones we’re with, game by game, and not grow too fond of them. And thank God, that in contrast with motorsport or football or athletics, the opportunities for the perversion of our sport are limited.
