From 2005’s Ashes to the Swans scandal, why we still demand moral leadership from sports stars

Australia House was a fitting venue to learn the truth about Australians and sport.

The beaux-arts building was built in 1918 as a young nation’s imposing statement of intent in the heart of London, and nearly a century later, the grand building housing our high commission hosted the Australian cricket team on the eve of the Ashes.

London in July 2005 was elation and horror. On Wednesday, July 6, the city was awarded the 2012 Olympics. Jubilant crowds thronged Trafalgar Square until late into the evening.

The very next morning four Islamist terrorists set off homemade bombs in backpacks, killing 52 innocent souls on their way to work; more than 700 were injured.

Nearly two weeks later, cricket captain Ricky Ponting stepped with his team into Australia House’s Exhibition Hall (so grand that it was Gringotts Wizarding Bank in the Harry Potter films), for a reception hosted by high commissioner Richard Alston.

The cream of Australia’s business, diplomatic, cultural, sporting and media communities were there to meet them. And me.

Ricky Ponting, whom I had previously dismissed as a bit of a dropkick after he was clocked in the face at the Bourbon and Beefsteak after a late night bender and ended up with a black eye, gave an incredible speech to a room that was trying to keep it together in the wake of the killings. He talked about mutual respect between the two nations and deep solidarity with the victims and bereaved families. He totally met the moment.

A lanky young cricketer with peroxided hair and a diamond earring uncomfortably leaned against a back wall. I thought about trying to engage, but he seemed too shy. But it was the invited guests who were really fascinating. The Aussie captains of industry seemed to regress before my eyes and turn into schoolboys, producing toy wooden cricket bats and nervously submitting to men decades younger than they were to request their autographs. It was a complete demonstration of star power. And the cricketers weren’t even trying.

Fast-forward two decades and our attitude to our stars is exactly the same.

Kids hanging over the MCG fence desperate to attract the attention of their team warming up before a Thursday-night match.

A tradie doing some work for Billy Brownless’ flat saying goodbye with a handshake and hesitantly asking for a selfie. Tom Lynch moving seats at the Oasis concert at Marvel last November after getting hassled by a fan who kept taking pictures.

The scrutiny and demands remain intense. Which explains in part why the reaction against the Swans players after the Pullman hotel scandal was so massive. A night on the town, a very late return to the team hotel, women invited over, reports of drugs in the room, distressed women, allegations of sexual assault, a police investigation, five players suspended for breaching club standards, no charges laid (as yet).

As Malcolm Knox wrote in this masthead: “Swans fans feel like they’ve been made fools of. Penance can be paid and redemption earned, but you could never look the same at Tiger Woods or Ben Stokes or Wayne Carey or Michael Slater once you saw behind the veil.

It was easy to share the anger of the fans.