Trust flies out the window when chicanery shows its face
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AS EXERCISES go, cheating must rank as the most pointless. Whether it’s fiddling the cards to win a game, claiming things are ours when they are not, taking drugs to improve performance in athletics or handling the ball in football, there are always repercussions. It is tempting, sometimes – accepting too much change in the supermarket or eating a chocolate éclair while on a strict diet.
One of the most memorable examples was the golf scene in the James Bond film Goldfinger, when the villain, Oddjob, replaces his master’s lost ball with a new one.
In fact, cheating is extremely rare in golf. It must be the last bastion of decency in a world of sport where money is all. Professional golfers will penalise themselves when they inadvertently break a rule, often without it being pointed out to them, and referees are often consulted when the rules require interpretation.
Cheating is sometimes spoken of with derision, as if it doesn’t matter much. But it can have serious consequences. Of course, it depends on the activity. If it is just a game, as in a lighthearted way of relaxing with friends, then cheating can be a bit of a joke.
The problem begins when people try to cheat their way to victory in games which do matter.
A favourite example of cheating was Diego Maradona’s Hand of God goal at the 1986 World Cup, which helped to eliminate England in the quarter-finals.
It will haunt Maradona until his dying day.
Now, France’s Thierry Henry will suffer the same fate. Like it or not, his handball denied Robbie Keane and his Republic of Ireland team the chance of a place at the World Cup finals in South Africa.
This was spectacularly cruel, considering that football pundits all seemed to agree that the Irish were by far the better team. Hardest of all to bear was the fact that the culprit was a man we had all assumed to be cleaner than squeaky clean.
No one has ever had a bad word to say about Thierry. Skilled, athletic, stylish and a scorer of wonderful goals in his time at Arsenal, he has always been admired by his peers but revered by his opponents as well.
Now, he is being condemned universally.
There is always a time and an opportunity to say sorry and Thierry Henry has missed his. He has done some halfhearted versions of an apology, but nothing convincing enough to quell the storm erupting around him.
If someone cheats, no one will trust them again. People quickly forget all the great achievements of sports stars who do wrong. All they remember about that person is that he or she was a cheat.
Money is responsible for a lot of cheating. Whenever big commerce is involved in sport, the ultimate goal is profit, not success. It becomes all about image.
Businesses want to be associated with glamour and success and that piles pressure on players, and cheating becomes a serious temptation.
But there is lots of cheating in other aspects of life as well, especially in love. Of course, infidelity is nothing new. It’s practised all over the world, particularly by men in powerful positions.
This probably explains the persistent sex appeal of successful, dominant men, whether they be senior politicians, rock stars or wealthy business tycoons.
No matter how ugly, no matter how horrid, they always manage to get themselves a girlfriend.
Then there is the straying hubby who traditionally cheats in the arms of a much younger woman.
With a midlife crisis, call it what you will, he wants the freshness of youth to prove to the world that despite his balding head and spreading paunch, he still has the power to attract.
The UK Government insists on taking on a role as guardian of our public morals. In return, the public are entitled to demand from MPs exactly the same moral standards as they would from clergy.
That is why the expenses scandal caused such outrage. MPs weren’t just cheating, they were cheating with OUR money.
Margaret Beckett, who spent a staggering £11,000 on gardening equipment, had the cheek to pontificate on the BBC’s Question Time, patronising the audience, telling us we did not understand MPs’ affairs and shouldn’t worry our pretty little heads about it.
She, Theresa May and Ming Campbell all tried to defend their indefensible expenses structure and they were loudly booed by members of the audience.
For once, the honourable, and dishonourable, members in the Commons have had to listen to the voices of ordinary people, of you and me.
For far too long, they have ridden roughshod over us; telling us what is best for us while running up some expenses which would see the average person jailed for similar offences.
These men and women who make pronouncements about our lives, day in, day out, soon discovered that the moral high ground is a dark and lonely place, especially when you are caught cheating and your trousers are well and truly down around your ankles.
Thierry Henry was up there on a pedestal, too, with his va-va-voom Renault Clio and Gillette adverts.
The man has been a great ambassador for football. Yet now, we are having to watch him get off scot-free after one of the most serious instances of cheating football has ever witnessed.
Somebody has to tell players that cheating will not be tolerated.
In order to do that successfully, Thierry Henry must be banned for a long spell and the match with the Irish replayed.
Finally, a cautionary tale of a stupid boy caught cheating in a school exam. The marker became suspicious when the boy had exactly the same answers as the person sitting next to him.
His final answer gave him away, though. The boy beside him had written “I don’t know” and the cheat wrote “Neither do I.”
