Woe woe woe (a lament on intercontinental sporting shame)

A simple but timely question - why do we Aussies vest our national reputational responsibilities in the unreliable hands of sportsmen? In two deft (daft) manoevers our fittest and most-mulleted have again reminded the world of our capacity for boof-headedness. In India and Ireland the bombastic behaviour of our sportsmen threatens to untie the solid bonds of friendship. Someone needs to remind our lads that - and the cliche rings true - its not just about winning!

Sadly, our best moments on the sporting field in recent years have been in defeat. Our graciousness in losing the ashes temporarily restored humility to the arsenal of our cricket team. Even Shane Warne looked like an adult. And our sad tumble out of the soccer world cup reminded us of the microcosm within which we 'dominate' international sport - Commonwealth Games ooh aah. It seems we need to lose more often to remember again the rewards and responsibilities of winning.

So my recommendation for the day is set up a giant shiny mirror running from Karatha to Cairns. We could see ourselves as the world see us: myopic in our pursuit of sporting success; bursting with hubris; and convinced our geographical blessings were hard-earned. Unfortunately I now see exhibitions of national sporting pride through the prism of Cronulla - boorish, exclusionary and utterly lacking in self-awareness.

But perhaps national pride is just universally ugly. It is by definition exclusive - to be enjoyed only by those whose fortune of birth aligns them with the winning colours. Short of abolishing nations and all other forms of human grouping, we're stuck with it. So in this imperfectible world our lads could use a few lessons in fair play, graciousness in victory and reputational responsibility off the field. Then I can stop feeling embarrased about something over which I have no control, and avoid tarring the good sports amongst us with the Cronulla brush.