A Cricket Tale

I don't know how many of you have been following the Bob Woolmer story (I presume none), so I'll give a brief synopsis.

Bob Woolmer is the coach of Pakistan's cricket team. Er, was. You see, Pakistan was the defending champion of the World Cup of Cricket, having won when it was last held in 2003. As such, in 2007 they were the favourites to repeat. Their first match resulted in a loss to West Indies, which overall wasn't how they wanted to start, but as the tournament was being held in the West Indies this year, it could be dismissed as the Windies were basically playing a home game; and they were certainly one of the better teams in the tournament. The next loss, to Ireland, was more devastating. Ireland barely plays cricket; they usually lose in the qualifying rounds. With a win over Pakistan, they secured qualification for the second round--and Pakistan's elimination.

The fans in Pakistan were in an uproar. People were literally burning effigies of the players and their coach. The entire executive of Pakistan cricket turned in their resignation. It was assumed the coach would too, but he had one game to go before the players would fly home. If I was the coach, I wouldn't have flown to Pakistan, out of fears of being shot at the airport--this is, after all, Pakistan's biggest sport.

Then, Woolmer was found dead in his hotel room. At first, it was thought that he had died from diabetes complications--he was a fairly old man, after all. The players rallied and in their next game, against Zimbabwe (a fairly good cricket nation), they scored the 3rd highest total ever in World Cup history, and the highest total that Pakistan had ever scored in the Cup. The fans showed up dressed in black and mourning for their coach.

Shortly thereafter, the autopsy results came out, showing that Woolmer had been murdered by suffocation. Currently, as it stands, the entire country is in mourning--flags at half-mast, the entire population wearing black; and the president announced that Woolmer would posthumously receive the Star of Excellence, one of the nation's highest honours.

Here's my thoughts: exactly why, and how, did this happen? Not the murder, but the sudden change in reaction by the public. At first, most of the population was ready to tear him from limb to limb; and now they're about to bestow upon him the country's highest honour. The only thing that happened was he died. At first, the populace wanted to kill him, then one of them actually did, and now he's being honoured? The irony that he died for the same reason that the country wanted him dead--a terrible job as coach--never ceases to amaze me.

In the court of public opinion, he was guilty, and so he served his sentence--a death sentence. Obviously, the sentence was too harsh--it's just sports, after all. Perhaps the public believes that by honoring him, they're making up for the mistrial?
Poor performance = lost job.
Poor performance + death = honour?
If this is the way it works, then what does death by itself equal? Because I know lots of miserable people out there who toil in miserable lives that eventually result in a miserable death. They sure don't get national honours; many of them don't get a funeral. Where is the honour and respect for these people? Where is justice, in a world where the amount of honour you receive is directly related to how well a person is known?

True honour belongs to Everyman; to the people who do their job without thanks or good wages. True honour belongs to the people who live through a miserable life, and yet don't throw in the towel and commit suicide. True honour belongs to the people who mine jewels of joy and happiness out of a barren life, and share them with others.

But if that isn't the way that honour works, then why on earth is it worth pursuing?


"And so the Lord says, 'These people say they are mine. They honour me with their lips, but their hearts are far away. And their worship of me amounts to nothing more than human laws learned by rote.'" (Isaiah 29:13)