AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

        All deaths are sad. But the death of innocence is even more so as it symbolises the passing away of that quality which marks the human aspect in human beings. If the reports emerging from Jamaica are indeed true - the police suspect foul play in the death of Pakistan coach Bob Woolmer - then cricket would stand bare and bereft of all that made it noble and elevating.

        Sport, in this intensely commercial and competitive world, cannot be insular to all those elements that corrupt our daily life. But cricket, as the poets of the game have glorified it in pithy and powerful verses, was no ordinary game. It is an idyll. An intellectual pursuit on a sporting arena. A brainy joust with the accompaniment of bats, ball and other accoutrements. After all, it is a game, which idiomatically stood to mean things of moral rectitude ('it is not cricket' is now almost a dog-eared cliche).

        It is not as if cricket has been untouched by the canker of corruption and controversy ever. From bodyline series to the world series affair to apartheid saga and the rebel tours and sundry other issues, cricket has been a playfield to many tumultuous happenings. The match-fixing scandal of the 90s and its persistent shadow certainly showed up in dark relief the warts. But cricket seemed to have emerged with its core unscathed.

        Or so we thought. But the death of Woolmer, which is now suspected as a murder, must surely disabuse us of our fervent hopes. Cricket, dear cricket, is no longer the shining symbol of white innocence. No matter who killed him, and for whatever reason, the game's virginity has been compromised. There is no point in speculating who might have killed Woolmer. Money and shady deals would be at the root of this, like it is in most vile deeds of human beings.

        If you ask what has cricket, the game, got to do with the murder of a man who might have been bumped off for knowing too much. Well, as any scriptwriter will tell you, the backdrop is intrinsic to the story itself, and can be the primemover of the narrative. In this case, on-field cricket activity has lent itself to corruption, which has further manifested itself in a gruesome death.

        It must be sad for the aficionados and the stakeholders to realise that the game they had been propping up was, in reality, a carefully orchestrated farce.

        As is inevitable, soon Woolmer's death will doubtless be forgotten as the cricketing exploits would take the centre stage. Blood and toil on the field would, as it should, make the headlines. But his death would also make it clear that cricket's conscience has blinked. Its soul sullied.

        No matter what, innocence lost is lost forever. Cricketers and fans should understand this reality and move on.