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WHEN "Sir" Allen Stanford, a loud Texan, who had been awarded a dodgy knighthood by tiny Antigua, stepped out from his helicopter at Lord's last summer, it was surely obvious that we were dealing with an Olympic-class vulgarian.
And when his henchmen unveiled a massive see-through plastic box containing US$20 million in used notes for a one-off Twenty20 match, it became equally obvious that here also was a fruity cove straight out of the pages of Ian Fleming.
This was surely the point when Giles Clarke, chairman of the England Cricket Board, and his pathetic chief executive, David Collier, should have called the whole thing off.
But they didn't. As was all too apparent from the decision to let him put down his chopper on Lord's sacred turf, Stanford had by then moved way beyond acquiring little Antigua. The helicopter was the outward and visible sign that Allen Goldfinger, Ernst Stavro Stanford, had bought up English cricket as well.
Being loud, brash and in poor taste is not, of course, a crime, it merely makes sensible folk wary. But it's a long time since the top of English cricket was overpopulated by such people. Instead of old farts with at least a modicum of common sense, the ECB was being run by an arriviste whose successful career flogging wine and knocking out products for pets had given him an overweening sense of himself, and a confidence in his own infallibility.
Clarke should have known Stanford was impossibly strong meat. Should he also have known he was probably a crook? There are plenty of people who, with all the wisdom the great art of hindsight offers in abundance, say he should but I wonder.
There were rumours about the man's probity, of course. But if he was good enough for the US Securities and Exchange Commission, and other regulators, was it really for the ECB to take a different view?
What was foolish was for Clarke to talk pompous nonsense about "due diligence", as if they had indeed dug deep into Stamford's mysterious empire.
In truth, all they were concerned about was whether he had the money, and undeniably he did, even if, as it turns out, it probably wasn't his to give away.
Money, lots of it, that's the point. It may not be the root of all evil every time, but it certainly was here. English cricket is desperate for cash. The county game has been failing for decades. At most county matches, after a well-timed six, the ball has to bounce a dozen times in the main stand before hitting a spectator, such are the paltry attendances at games.
As well as doling out Stanford's money to the counties who elect him (the English game got £3 million with the promise of much more to come), Clarke wanted to see off the Indian Premier League.
India is the one place on the planet where cricket is doing really well. It's mass entertainment there, especially Twenty20, a crude slogfest that begins and ends in an evening, and has captured the imagination of the Indian public both live, and on TV.
It may be as primitive as confining a football match to a penalty shoot-out but at least you don't have to waste five days and still not get a result.
The IPL has loadsamoney to dish out, with offers of £1 million or more for a star player, who only has to work for six weeks to earn it.
Instead of embracing their invention, Clarke and his cronies saw the IPL as yet another power play by the Indians, this time using their big chequebook to capture the best players in the world, regardless of domestic obligations. Amidst uproar England players were forbidden to go.
But it soon became apparent that a counterbalance was needed; enter stage right Stanford, exit stage left good judgment.
A deal was rapidly and carelessly done, leading to arguably the most humiliating moment English cricket has ever wished upon itself: the high stakes winner-takes-all match at the stadium in Antigua built by Stanford. In their arrogance, Clarke and the ECB thought this was easy money; England were bound to win. But of course they lost, and appallingly badly, too.
Stanford, with all his antics, including bouncing an England WAG on his knee, was exposed as a complete buffoon. Still, the ECB saw him as a suitable case and kept on dealing with him. What a muddle. What a mess.
The obvious thing now is to call for the heads of Clarke and Collier, and lots within and without the game are doing it. I'm not so sure.
Clarke may have got this one horribly wrong but at least he showed a capacity for taking a firm decision and acting on it, something previous fumblers in his job serially failed to do.
Clarke took over an ECB characterised by such an abdication of leadership and lack of moral sense that even banning Zimbabwe from touring England was beyond them. His can-do attitude has been a breath of fresh air, as he will delight in announcing himself.
In short, it's a far better punishment for him to be tasked with sorting out this mess rather than merely forcing him out and handing it on to some other unfortunate
There's a serious job to be done in world cricket, and it's hard to think of anyone other than Clarke fit to do it. The International Cricket Council left Lords some years ago over a tax dispute, and are now based in Dubai. At that moment the MCC ceased any serious attempt to influence the future direction of the world game.
Clarke can redeem himself by re-establishing some authority for the MCC. At present the chasm between the old white cricket world and the colourful new cricket men from the sub-continent seems unbridgeable.
As an independently wealthy man, Clarke can now devote all his undeniable energies to the task ahead - and he should.
It's always, I know, a bit of a counsel of despair to advise clinging on to nurse for fear of finding something worse but that's what they should do.
Clarke maybe over-confident and brash, and in that sense a bit of a Stanford mini-me, but he's an intelligent, determined man, desperate to make a lasting mark on the game he loves.
The rest of us who love it, too, can only hope that he cleans up English cricket - now give him time and the space to do it.
Reader views (3)
At least he did not wear a Chelsea shirt while performing.
- Roy G, Solihull, ENGLAND, 22/02/2009 14:48
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Again, Greed. And again and again.
What a bunch of donkeys. Britain is a nation of donkeys. It has lost its grip on basic realities.
Cricket: that game that's bigger than a game to many. But it is just a game.
Mediocre megalomaniacs attach themselves to other egoists and reason is lost.
- Gordon, mexico, mexico, 20/02/2009 21:26
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David Mellor calling someone else vulgar. Pot kettle black.
- Pilko, London, 20/02/2009 14:39
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