With all the horrid news being trotted out these days, I thought I’d been thoroughly desensitised. But the official announcement that Pakistan’s cricket coach Bob Woolmer was murdered — strangled, in fact — managed to shake me up all right. And I’d already been aghast at speculation beforehand that the man was a victim of poisoning, rather than a simple heart attack.
An act of pure evil. Whether it was the sorry result of the love of money, or an eruption of wrath, nothing but the stench of foul malice and demons emanates from this. I want to say “it’s only a sport”, but it hardly seems to be the time for perspective. Whoever did this has truly besmirched the biggest celebration of a game I’d just begun to barely comprehend.
I hope the murderer or murderers are caught sooner than soon. Woolmer’s family would probably find scant comfort in that, though. It would turn out that Andrés Escobar was not enough for the altar of greed (allegedly), if it is actually a case of corruption.