Azeem Rafiq’s brave testimony only scratches the surface for racism in sport

Azeem Rafiq’s emotional testimony in parliament about his experience only scratches the surface of racism in sport and that redacted report needs to be made public

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Azeem Rafiq: Racism is not banter

“Fight fair, you black b*****d.”

That was the punchline of a gag delivered by the “entertainment” of a football awards night I attended as a young football reporter for the Daily Mirror.

It brought the house down. I’d heard enough. I left the hotel where the event was being held and went home. Only to find myself criticised the following day for not seeing the nuance in the “joke”.

I was a killjoy. A spoilsport. Especially since the joker didn’t actually mean it that way.

They never do. That’s when they actually remember having done it. Any person who has ever had to look the other way, or even walk away from being the only Black or Asian person in the room, recognizes every single detail in the twists and turns of the Yorkshire Cricket Club racism scandal.

From the individuals that will stand up to be counted, to the ones with a hazy recollection of events. From the attempts to brush it under the carpet, then that drip-feed of information under pressure, followed by the nothing-to-see-here conclusions that are shown to warrant – at the very least – further scrutiny.

We exist everywhere as survivors of a culture that so many would love to dismiss as being “from a different time”.

It is their way of attempting to escape accountability.

What about the people from that different time who didn’t use that kind of language? What about the people who didn’t see humour in sweeping cultural stereotypes?

Legality means this column has to take a step back from inferring any kind of guilt or innocence in relation to Yorkshire.

Trouble is, legality is what has allowed the cancer of racism to grow within sport as a whole.

For years, the radio and TV stations devoting hours of time to the issue now would not even recognise it as an issue. Newspapers too.

It meant the burden of proof lay on the footballers of colour who would often find it was not worth the abuse and recriminations they’d be subjected to when they put their heads above the parapet.

It allowed the culture of abuse, torment and intimidation outlined by Rafiq to go unchecked.

It gave the accused the platform to deny responsibility. How could it be them when they were such titans for their clubs or countries? How could it be them when they were such good blokes or women to boot?

It also put athletes across sport through pain no individual should ever have to experience.

In addition, as Rafiq made clear at the Select Committee hearing, Black or Asian athletes would be dismissed as ‘playing the race card’ if they told the truth. They’d decide against carrying the stigma of being shot as the messenger.

As a result, many – too many – would try to actually engage with the fun being enjoyed at their expense until it all became too much.

“I was in denial,” said Rafiq when asked why he returned to Yorkshire, “For a person of colour to accept you are being treated differently because of your race or your religion is a tough thing to take.”

But what m’learned friends will never be able to do is wipe away the tenacity of the men like him – and in football – who had the courage to change the things they could.

When Rafiq talks about himself and his team-mates being told “You lot sit over there” and being called “elephant washers” and “P***”; when he talks about the humiliation he was subjected to in front of his team-mates; when he talks about having to take medication for his mental health, there are black and brown people inside and outside sport who knows exactly where he is coming from.

The terms might be different but the humiliation and the isolation is the same. Sport has a fixation with the abuse on the outside and in the stands – yet has for too long been incapable of addressing the abuse on the inside.

As has been the case for some time, in football as well as cricket, the lack of Black and Asian decision makers has contributed to the inability to address, let alone deal with racism adequately.

What follows next will be the usual raft of patronising pledges, money committed to fighting the problems, hotlines and messaging campaigns that have never been worth the hoardings and badges they’ve been printed on.

Followed by, as Rafiq put it, the wholesale handing out of high profile jobs across the counties to prevent other South Asian players from bringing cricket’s house of racist cards down.

And of course the buck-passing and hand-wringing by people who should have done their jobs in the first place. Where are the all-white government select committees when lower-profile sports stars reveal their suffering?

Meanwhile in the unfashionable clubs, counties and sports with the unfashionable competitors the racism will continue – and it won’t merit the column inches it deserves.

That’s why you cannot possibly be surprised that Rafiq wouldn’t let his children anywhere near cricket. Why would he? Why would you?

Why would you surrender your kids to coaches and administrators who have left so many close to the edge?

Rafiq’s testimony has left Yorkshire, one of the highest profile counties in the game, in pieces. But it has only served to scratch the surface. It is a tip of the iceberg. Not just in cricket, in sport.