Leave the stump mics on, just improve the players’ behaviour

Australian captain Tim Paine launches a verbal attack on India’s Ravi Ashwin

Charlie Chaplin was good for a laugh back in the day, then along came talkies and suddenly we knew what they were really on about it. There was a bit more to it than pies in the face and people falling over each other.

Stump mics and wired up players offer a similar step forward for sport. An extra level of insight into what’s going on out on the field and inside the heads of the athletes and coaches. As well as watching what they’re doing, we’re hearing what they are thinking and what they are saying to each other. Sport has gone to another level.

Dave Barham, former head of sport at Channel 10 and head of cricket at the Seven Network, argues in a column in News Corp publications that the mics should be turned off to maintain the mystique of sport.

He believes we never should have heard Australian captain Tim Paine having a crack at umpire Paul Wilson or calling India’s Ravi Ashwin a dickhead. But the problem is not that Paine’s outbursts were broadcast, but that what he said was offensive, childish and irresponsible. Paine accepted that and apologised, as he should have.

When athletes such as Paine accept the substantial pay packets that come with their position, they also have to accept the responsibilities. As role models and representatives of their country and their communities, they are expected to behave with a bit of decency. And these days, that means watching what they say.

The broadcast of audio from out in the middle of a cricket Test – or the sideline of a footy game or beside the green in a golf tournament – is fascinating.

Listening to niggle and spirited banter between players, even a bit of good-natured sledging, adds to the drama, fills out the story.

Listening to mic’d-up Aaron Finch set his fields and motivate his bowlers during a Melbourne Renegades Big Bash game is absolutely compelling. Finch is concise, authoritative, thoughtful and calm and his analysis of the game is better than anything those up in the commentary box can offer.

One of the absolute highlights of this season’s Big Bash came during a rain break at Metricon Stadium on New Year’s Day, when mic’d-up Sydney Thunder batsman Usman Khawaja spoke about everything from the highs and lows of his Test career, religion, coffee and the joys of playing in a team. Much more entertaining than watching the ground staff cover and uncover the pitch.

Neither Finch nor Khawaja – or Glenn Maxwell, another player who offers entertaining insights from out on the field – seem to have any trouble avoiding swearing or abuse.

When former players Shane Warne and Andrew Symonds were sprung in a sneering attack on Marnus Labuschagne’s batting style, the streaming service Kayo apologised for broadcasting it. What was Kayo apologising for? It was what was said that was offensive, not the fact it was broadcast.

Aaron Finch is compelling listening during Big Bash games. Picture: Getty Images

Barham decries microphones out on the field as unwelcome intrusion into the players’ workplace. “Imagine going to work every day, having to perform under pressure with a microphone sitting a metre or so away from you, capturing everything you say,” he writes. “It is not something that I would willingly sign up for.”

But we all sign up for it. In the modern workplace, reasonable and decent behaviour is expected. If I were to lean across the partition and say to the deputy sports editor, “At least my teammates like me, dickhead”, I would be hauled in by human resources and punished. Whether there was a microphone present or not.

It’s the same for cricketers and footballers and tennis brats in their workplaces. Paine and all other elite athletes need to accept that this is the new reality. Viewers will be able to hear them as well as see what they do.

If they accept that and speak to their teammates and rivals in an appropriate manner, we can all enjoy the benefits of on-field audio. There’ll be a bit more to it than pies in the face.