Caught Out - Shocking Revelations of Corruption in International Cricket. Brian Radford
iceberg, and that a vast number of people had not reported attempts to corrupt them, or come forward about other people they believed were corrupt.
A diabolically frustrating conspiracy of silence was soon evident among players not wanting to be seen as informants and risk being ostracised by colleagues, while other players and officials justifiably feared that whistle-blowers would be penalised rather than supported.
Condon had to concede that players were afraid of having their international careers brought to a swift end should they dare express anxieties about corruption. And in this he was spot on, as it sadly turned out when Pakistan’s prolific opening batsman Qasim Omar – the only player ever brave enough to provide Condon personally with specific evidence of corruption – exposed the frightening scale of it, and candidly named names, no matter how big they were in world cricket and idolised by millions.
Omar was subsequently ‘rewarded’ for his courageous whistle-blowing assistance with an outrageous seven-year ban by the disgraceful Pakistan Cricket Board (PCB) that totally destroyed his international career and alienated him from players of all cricket nations.
I accompanied Omar to the office of the Anti-corruption and Security Unit (usually known just as the Anti-corruption Unit, or ACU, in matters relating to cricket corruption) on two separate occasions and took copious notes while he sat directly opposite Condon and a couple of senior investigators, who struggled with their own note-taking to keep up with an avalanche of explosive revelations, though they knew that everything that he disclosed was being tape-recorded to ensure that not a word was lost in transcript. Later on I shall recall precisely what Omar told Condon and his startled squad behind closed doors on those private visits.
Players, former players, umpires and others have been understandably shocked, angered and embarrassed to discover that they have taken part in matches that were scandalously rigged. Murder, kidnapping, and alarming physical threats to individuals and their families were also immediately linked to cricket corruption as Condon’s squad went into action.
Many players and officials were genuinely frightened of the consequences if it ever became known that they had cooperated with the Anti-corruption Unit, and some were too scared to stop for fear of being attacked by ruthless bookmakers and gambling gangs, and had no choice but to continue.
Great concern arose after several insiders alleged that a major criminal had access to a particular national team to such an extent that he could influence who was selected to play and decide how each member of the side would perform – and under-perform.
It was feared that a contract killing in South Africa resulted from a dispute between rival corruptors from other countries. With its easy profit and simple money-laundering, proceeds from cricket corruption have been sufficiently large to attract organised crime.
Investigators soon collected overwhelming evidence that illegal betting could take place on international cricket matches anywhere in the world, and in some areas it was perceived that players under suspicion of corruption had been tolerated by their governing bodies because they were too important to the national team to be exposed and excluded from selection. Condon made it clear that blame for the spread of ugly cricket corruption should not be placed on the Indian subcontinent alone, and he conceded that corrupt practices were so deeply ingrained in cricket culture that major criminals could be involved.
Some terrified informants agreed to be interviewed only after absolute guarantees were given that all such meetings would be held in safe and secret surroundings, but many rejected even these assurances, declining to provide evidence in a formal and public form. One such person was Indian bookmaker Mukesh Gupta, who alleged that he had paid several highly respected players for crucial information – and named them.
Condon’s crime-busters received allegations that corrupt betting was taking place on:
• the outcome of the toss at the start of a match
• the end from which the fielding captain would select to bowl first
• a set number of wides or no-balls occurring in a specified over
• players being placed in unfamiliar fielding positions, like someone who usually stood on the boundary being put in the slips
• top-order batsmen scoring fewer runs than their opponents who had batted first
• batsmen being dismissed at a specific point in their innings
• total runs when a captain would declare
• the timing of a declaration
• total runs scored in a particular innings, and particularly the total in the first innings of a One-day International.
Several umpires had admitted to being approached by shady people who wanted to know at which end they would stand at the start of a match. Groundsmen had also confessed to fixing pitches for bookmakers to ensure that a match ended in a positive result, and tampering with a pitch overnight to change the predicted course of a game.
Another area of immense worry was the consummate ease with which corruptors were gaining access to players, especially through the total absence of accreditation on tours that allowed undesirable people to mix freely with teams, which provided the perfect breeding ground for improper approaches and corruption.
Condon and his investigators were eager to interview Pakistan batsman Qasim Omar who had courageously broken the strict code of silence among players and officials and had become the first – and only – well-informed insider to go public and lift the lid on the phenomenal extent of corruption swilling around in cricket’s international cesspool.
The ebullient and likeable Omar had telephoned me at the London office of The People newspaper where I worked as a sports and news investigator and offered to blow the whistle because he could no longer bear to see his game destroyed, and the general public deceived and derided by a growing band of greedy crooks in a world of corruption.
After much negotiating about dates and times, Condon’s wish was finally granted when Omar and I arrived at the ACSU office, where he and his two senior investigators, Alan Peacock and Martin Hawkins, both former Scotland Yard officers, greeted us warmly.
Omar had played with, and against, the world’s very best cricketers, many of them absolute legends in the game, and Condon and his aides were openly grateful to him for his explosive revelations about players linked to betting, drugs, prostitution and money-laundering. At one point Condon leaned forward and stressed: ‘Qasim Omar’s revelations are a very important part of the jigsaw. My terms of reference are that we support criminal investigations anywhere in the world. A huge amount of work is under way. There are not enough hours in the day to cope with it.’
That first riveting meeting between Omar and the ACSU was still very much the appetiser, and it was only when Omar returned to their London offices that the main meal was put on a plate for the investigators in a dramatic ten-hour session.
Again I went along with him and again I listened and scribbled as he disclosed, almost without taking a breath, stark details of players who were making a fortune from cheating – and he named them all, clearly and confidently.
Omar, who wanted the investigators to know that he was a devout Muslim, began by recounting a recent visit to Pakistan to talk to cricketers about the value of religion. He recalled arriving at the Gadaffi Stadium in Lahore and meeting three of the country’s best players: bowlers Abdul Qadir and Wasim Akram, and batsman Saeed Anwar.
Becoming noticeably emotional, Omar said: ‘When I was talking to them, people in the Executive Room were wondering who I was, and Rameez Raja [Pakistan’s brilliant opening batsman, and now a popular television commentator] recognised me, and told them that it was Qasim.’
General Tauqir Zia, then President of the Pakistan Cricket Board (PCB), was with them and he told Rameez that Omar should go up and speak to him. Omar was with a former Olympic hockey player, and they both went up to the Executive Room.
‘On my way up, I kept thinking that as General