This contribution from Dileep Premachandran from Times Online, published in The Oz - Cut and Paste on Jan 10th, sums up the wank we call modern cricket pretty well for me -
During the infamous Bodyline tour of 1932-33, Douglas Jardine knocked on the Australian dressing-room door to demand an apology for being abused. Bill Woodfull turned to his team poker-faced and asked "Which one of you bastards called this bastard a bastard?" Had they been around, Mike Procter and other (International Cricket Council) match referees might have had a field day. This is not a lament for time that can never return, but such an anecdote does remind one of the death of common sense and humour in modern day cricket. If an outsider looked at the current tug-of-war between
Barring a few brain-deaths at the meeting in
It's not confined to cricket. As a nation, we're rapidly losing our sardonic sense of humour. It's gone the way of biscuits (now "cookies"), taps (now "faucets"), and footpaths (now "sidewalks").