RIATH AL-SAMARRAI: We hate villains like Alex Carey, but let’s not pretend it isn’t part of the fun

First, a different story about the spirit of cricket. It goes back to August 2017 and a pair of neighbouring villages in Pembrokeshire — Carew and Cresselly. They’re about two miles apart and you’ll cover that in four minutes on the A4075. It’s a lovely part of the world. And it was also home to one of the great sporting rows of our time.

The best place to start is the league table. Carew were top, Cresselly second, and the beauty of it all is they were down to play each other in the last fixture of the season. What’s important to note here is these were guys who knew each other well — they went to the same schools, worked together, drank together, played football together, as did a few of their parents.

So that was the initial context to a match which eventually travelled far beyond a Welsh county and on to the pages of the Indian Express, among others. If you recall, it was the Bairstow run-out of its time and place.

Cresselly faced a difficult task that day but not an impossible one. Carew’s lead was 21 points and a win was worth 20, but then you had the bonuses to consider — a point for every 40 runs up to 200 and a point for every two wickets. In short, it boiled down to this: if Cresselly could win and take two more bonus points than Carew, they’d snatch the title at the last.

But Carew had a devilish plan. As far as I’ve been told in my retracing of those steps, they even checked the rules with the umpire before the game, found their read of the situation was accurate, and set about putting it in action. Batting first, they declared on 18 for one. First there was shock, then revulsion.

Australia’s Alex Carey (pictured) became public enemy number one after he stumped Jonny Bairstow in the second Ashes test at Lords

Carey (left) flicked the ball against the stumps after Bairstow (right) walked down to wicket to talk to Ben Stokes at the end of the over

Bairstow’s dismissal sparked a debate about the spirit of cricket and saw Australia roundly booed at the Home of Cricket 

Despite the recent uproar, I feel as though villains like Carey are all part of the fun when it comes to top level sport

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It was filthy and entirely legal — Cresselly were welcome to the 20 points, which they achieved by knocking off the chase in just a few overs, but the opportunity for any bonuses had been snatched clean off the table. It was Carew’s title by a single point.

Now, whatever else we have learnt about the moods of the Long Room, hell hath no fury like a village cricket team scorned. Statements were issued, some Cresselly lads said they’d never again play for Carew’s football team, and the local paper was blanked for a prolonged period by members of the Pariahs XI. 

In among it all, a four-man disciplinary panel told the champions they could keep their tainted trophy, but they’d be relegated. When they were drawn to face each other several months later in a village cup match, Cresselly put out a tweet: ‘Hello darkness my old friend.’

I loosely know a few of those around the situation because I grew up a short distance away, and it was a good year or more before that cloud dissipated. It stopped being a news story in India, Australia and Wisden but the feeling lived on in the villages. Beyond them? There was some outrage, a few pieces about the death of decency and spirit and the like, but it was mostly considered quite hilarious in its way. And still is now.

Which I suppose is a wider point about sporting sh*thousery — it endures. It stays in the mind. It leaves a mark. It travels across borders and occasions of differing scale. It makes us mad. Sh*housery divides and sh*thousery conquers but sh*thousery can also bring us together, because sh*thousery brought Carew to India. It drew a line from the Pembrokeshire County League to the Ashes. Everyone hates a sh*thouse unless it’s your sh*thouse — call it the Sergio Ramos phenomenon — but it is equally true that sh*thousery can be amusing.

And so there also needs to be an acceptance that sh*thousery plays a role in the richness of our ecosystems. Like wasps. We hate wasps, but without them there would be more greenfly and other pests in our gardens. We can hate actions like those of Alex Carey, and we can wave shoes at him at Headingley, but without a touch of sh*thousery in our sports, we would be the poorer for it.

It’s about the value of villains.

Bairstow (right) was left bemused after Carey’s quick-thinking caught him out last Sunday

Characters such as Nick Krygios (left) and Phil Mickelson (right) make sport more interesting

I’ve spent the week at Wimbledon, as I have done at this time of year for more than a decade, and the mood has been noticeably flat compared with others. A significant element in that has been the end of the Roger Federer era and the injuries of Rafael Nadal because we love a hero and a familiar name. But it is also about the absence of Nick Kyrgios and the daily question of what stunt he will pull next.

Some loathe him; I like the sense of uncertainty that his character brings, and the whiff of drama when it isn’t quite so overpowering. He crosses lines, he can be woefully obnoxious, he can be a bit of a sh*thouse, as we might say. But this week is proof that a tennis tournament is more interesting when he is around.

Same goes for Phil Mickelson, Patrick Reed, Sergio Garcia and Ian Poulter within golf. In their way, they all have an edge about them. A bit of dirt on their wings. Elements that are unlikeable. And when they walked out on the PGA Tour for LIV, the hole they left behind was not just measured in terms of their talent.

A lot of the colour had drained away and that colour is essential to sport. We all enjoy the chips, putts, serves, volleys, cover drives and catches, but we also go in for the fuller portrait. The human picture. And if we follow the theory that the best of sport can mimic life with its rhythms and quirks, then it should also be acknowledged that life throws up the occasional act of sh*thousery, like Carey and Carew.

We don’t have to like it. But let’s not pretend it isn’t part of the fun.

GERRARD MOVE LACKS AMBITION 

We can look at Steven Gerrard’s move to Saudi Arabia and discuss what it says about the Kingdom and their ambitions. But it is more straightforward to assess what it says about him — it feels an awful lot like a 43-year-old manager who has stopped trying.

Steven Gerrard completed a move to Saudi Arabia to become the manager of Al-Ettifaq

WOLFF ‘HEARTBROKEN’ AFTER KOEPA COMMENTS 

Fabulous golfer, Brooks Koepka. Born winner. But not so much of a people person, which is an issue when LIV persist with their team concept and drop a few colleagues in his orbit.

One of them is Matthew Wolff, whose results lately have not been great – a situation calling for man-management from a nuanced captain. 

The Koepka approach isn’t quite like that: ‘It’s very tough to have even like a team dynamic when you’ve got one guy that won’t work, one guy is not going to give any effort. I’ve basically given up on him.’

Wolff, who has spoken previously about his mental health challenges, said he was ‘heartbroken’ by the assessment. Not a nice episode, all in all, but it does inadvertently support the idea of team golf. 

Big beasts in an individual sport do not always buddy up easily and watching them try can be strangely fascinating.

Brooks Koepka (left) is not well-suited to LIV golf’s team system and it’s left teammate Matthew Wolff (right) ‘heartbroken’ after some harsh criticism

DON’T STOP YET, ANDY! 

Andy Murray is 36 and 40th in the world. It’s four years since he last won a Tour-level event, five since metal was inserted into his hip, and he could scarcely look less happy in his job if he was repurposed as a snake handler adjacent to a sulphur pit.

And yet there remains little, if anything, in British sport that is so captivating as his annual battles against his body and younger men on Centre Court. 

He could do himself a favour and stop, as he hinted he might on Friday evening. But let’s selfishly hope that he doesn’t.

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He may be past his best, but watching Andy Murray remains one of the most captivating sights in British sport