One of the more egregious innovations of Chairman Mao’s cultural revolution was something called the ‘struggle sessions’. This involved the ritual public humiliation of anybody the local bigwigs had turned against — often in sports stadiums. The elderly Yangtze swimmer would have smiled approvingly at what has happened to Ollie Robinson, the England fast bowler who was forced to read out an apology on the eve of his first Test match for some daft and obnoxious remarks he made eight years ago on Twitter.
He has now been banned, and something with the sinister title of the ‘integrity unit’ is poised to investigate further. But investigate what exactly? Had Robinson done a couple of years inside for, say, robbery all those years ago, you wouldn’t be allowed to mention it under the terms of the Rehabilitation of Offenders Act. That’s a real crime with real victims. But a bit of rubbish, however grubby, on social media? It seems wholly out of proportion for Robinson’s Test career to be placed in jeopardy.
Our defence looks shakier than the Prime Minister’s wedding vows
The Robinson affair is one of several hot-button moral issues at the heart of elite sports. Taking the knee is another. The unpleasant booing at the start of England’s recent friendlies in the run-up to the Euros is about to become a big problem. If taking the knee — an act of great courage and defiance in America, where there is savage and often deadly racism — can prove so divisive for fans in Britain, is it doing the right job? Is it more than gesture politics? And could it be doing more harm than good?
English football clearly has a huge problem with racism, as anyone who has spent more than a few minutes surrounded by supporters at a football match will tell you, and the game’s authorities have done virtually nothing to tackle it over decades.
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