Why the politicians must help out cricket

Perhaps there is something in this, perhaps not. Either way I for one am loath to pass judgment on these cricketers. It's true that India is a long way from Pakistan and even further from the obvious danger zone. Even so, with three Tests and incalculable one day games, the tour is scheduled to last for many weeks and, with so volatile and fastmoving a global situation, you'd have to have Gatting's intellect to feel happy about offering glib reassurances.

I make no apology for seeming to veer so far from the sporting arena here, because to restate the point sport and politics are inseparable in this context of sending sportsmen into such a potentially catastrophic region at such a time.

It is a time when India and Pakistan are trading fire in the disputed territory of Kashmir. It is also a time when, if a pro-Taliban uprising was to dislodge the military-regime in Pakistan, that country's-nuclear arsenal would fall into the hands of religious zealots who hate India, the other nuclear power in the region, far more than they hate the US and Israel.

Would you want to spend weeks there aware not just that this is a possibility, however remote, but also that your parents, spouses or partners and children are fretting about you back home?

Cricket is a great game worth struggling to preserve. What makes it so is its subtlety, complexity and languor. For all the sledging, false appealing and match rigging, it has somehow managed to continue being played in international sport's closest approximation yet to a civilised way.

If, instead, it becomes a game reluctant men are forced to play because their controlling authority orders them to for purely fiscal reasons, overriding the justified fears of themselves and their loved ones, it isn't worth playing at all.

If upholding the right of UK nationals not to play cricket in mortal fear means that the Government must confirm the inseparability of politics and sport, in this case by stumping up seven million quid to save the ECB from a trip to Carey Street, then so be it.

It's good to see Ken underlining the kid gloves style of management for which he is so rightly revered.

Looking for something positive to take from the incident, the mind turns to one of global sport's more durable jinxes.

Anoraks among you will know the precise details of Tottenham Hotspur's extended failure to defeat Chelsea. I do not. At a guess, I would say that it now covers 327 games, stretching back to the battle of Agincourt. Others believe it began a fortnight before the signing of Magna Carta.

Let's leave the past to historians, however, and look to the future.

Despite the vast improvement under Glenn Hoddle, typified by yesterday's silky win at St James' Park, there remains no chance of Spurs beating Chelsea again, ever, under normal circumstances. So let's make them abnormal.

Playing all home games at Maccabi Tel Aviv's ground would not merely reaffirm the club's Jewish links in these troubles times but would also guarantee a crack at home at Chelsea's Under-14 second XI.

Even this may well not be enough for the victory, so let's take it on a step.

There has been talk recently about moving to a new stadium but, with London property prices still prohibitive and the club's recent figures being in the red, the answer may be for Spurs to follow Wimbledon's lead, only looking a bit further away than Milton Keynes.

" Welcome to Jalalabad's Olympic Stadium, world famous home of the Spurs" blaring from the public address system might strike some as an unnerving ritual greeting but extreme situations call for sacrifices.

If that is what it takes to ensure meeting a Chelsea side captained by Mr Bates himself, with his delightful girlfriend Suzannah in goal and Dickie Attenborough as the lone striker, it has to be worth a shot.

Details are sketchy, but Geoff Hurst is sure to be booked for his coruscating pastiche of a blazered Rotarian dullard incessantly plapping on about an event from 35 years ago, while present players involved will include Fabian Barthez (he'll come as his goalkeeping self) and Leicester City's Ade Akinbiyi with his sidesplitting impression of a blind man trying to find the net from four yards.

Managers lined up to appear include Bristol Rovers's Gerry Francis doing the legendary turn in which he simply walks on to the stage, removes his hat and walks off again.

Meanwhile, if the Premiership lads do indeed strike, a reciprocal arrangement whereby their places will be taken by professional comedian fans is seen as inevitable.

Alan Davies will play for Arsenal, David Baddiel for Chelsea and the late Peter Cook for Spurs, while Anfield will rejoice to know that if wing-back Stan Boardman's tackling fails to stop an opponent, one of his ribcage-busters about the 'Jairmans' undeniably will.

It would take something special for anyone to find a way past Bernard Manning in the Manchester City goal. Norwich City could use Stephen Fry's height and foghorn braying to organise the defence.

And Roy Hattersley (much more a comic figure than a political one, let's face it, however unintentionally) will give Sheffield Wednesday a useful escape route: whenever they find themselves in trouble, Lord Hattersley need only open his mouth and five minutes later the match will be abandoned due to a waterlogged pitch.

Brentford are known to want Bradley Walsh, who was once on the playing staff, but early indications suggest that unless the definition of 'professional comedian' is relaxed, he will remain ineligible.