NOBODY should doubt that Colombians are soccer fanatics -- frenetic in victory and vicious in defeat.
An example: defender Andres Escobar was gunned down in July 1994, not long after scoring an own goal in a World Cup finals match against the United States that Colombia lost 2-1.
Nobody should doubt, either, the frenetic following of cricket in Pakistan. English coach Bob Woolmer was murdered the night that Pakistan lost to Ireland in the World Cup in the Caribbean and let's just say it is not surprising.
That, unfortunately, is the way of things in Pakistan cricket circles -- a country riddled with illegal bookmakers, drug scandals, superiority complexes, player arrogance and a support base of tens of millions whose existence and mood is dictated by the team's results.
For many years, before neutral umpires, it was common acceptance that a visiting team would lose the first Test and that the remainder would be played on pitches that virtually guaranteed draws so that Pakistan would win the series.
The reason was basic enough: Win and the entire country was in raptures. Lose and the stadium would be set alight, houses would be burnt down, effigies burnt, players, umpires and officials threatened. Overall, a groundswell of political unrest would erupt and engulf a grieving and angry nation.
If victory had to be achieved, it would be. It was no secret that Pakistan's star batsman of the 1980s, Javed Miandad, was never given out leg before wicket while local umpires were in charge (the option was a "not out" decision or your house being destroyed by irate fans).
So blatant was the need for first Test victory that the Australian team of 1988 threatened to return home and forfeit the rest of the tour after many abysmal decisions.
Senior Pakistan players were apologetic. Many, who played professionally in England and knew right from wrong in the sport of gentlemen, acknowledged the bias with a shrug of the shoulders and words to the effect "that's the way it is here".
Incidentally, it was reported in 2005 that Javed Miandad's son had married the daughter of Dawood Ibrahim, the head of the D-Company organised crime group -- a man labelled an international terrorist by the United States, who has links to al-Qaida and whose crimes are believed to include the deadly Mumbai bombings of 1993.
Pakistan has had many wonderful players and officials, tremendous sportsmen who understood that politics played a more important part in the outcome of a match than any of them. When the chairman of the board, or chairman of selectors, was appointed by the nation's president because he was a relative or boss of the army or transport department, there was no doubt politics dominated.
During the 1983 tour to Australia, several players expressed their concerns about splits in the camp, player favouritism and a lack of commitment. After a series of articles reporting the rifts, team manager Intikhab Alam approached me and asked if I would sign a letter to the Pakistan board, stating that I had made up all the allegations and that in fact this was a happy team and he was a wonderful manager.
DON'T be shocked. Intikhab was a good bloke and a fine cricketer who was a diligent manager. He also had political savvy, knowing that such stories threatened his career. He didn't get the sack, but he didn't get his autographed letter either!
That was the way of it in Pakistan cricket circles. Soon enough, players learned the tricks. Popular batsman Qasim Omar was outspoken about many incidents. He told International Cricket Council investigators that illegal bookmakers had lured players to throw matches or under-perform in exchange for sex with prostitutes.
The same bloke later confessed that he acted as an agent for bookmakers at least 40 times during his career. He claimed corruption had infiltrated every level of Pakistan cricket, often with official knowledge and acceptance, and including collusion with umpires and groundsmen.
Omar was banned from playing cricket in Pakistan for seven years in 1988 after a Pakistan Cricket Board inquiry dismissed his allegations that there was a "Mr Big" of world cricket who distributed drugs.
How wrong they were. In 1995, Pakistan's cricket board sacked its captain Salim Malik and manager Alam amid claims that Malik tried to bribe Australian spinners Tim May and Shane Warne in the previous year's series in Pakistan.
The devious world of illegal bookies had surfaced -- and not before time.
It was rampant years before. On the 1988 tour -- soon after Pakistan's President Zia was killed when his plane was blown out of the sky -- former fast bowler Sarfraz Nawaz took me to a party at a bookie's opulent home. In a country of so many underprivileged people, it was a breathtaking house.
After I declined to partake in the whisky drinking, and suggested a cold Crown Lager would have been nice, the "boss" ordered a driver to take his Mercedes. Ten minutes later, in this "dry" Pakistan city, the driver returned with a carton of icy cold Crown Lager. You wanted something, you got it.
Unhappily, Woolmer was tangled up in the betting scandals, but on the other side of the world. He was coaching South Africa when captain Hansie Cronje admitted he orchestrated results for bookies' cash.
THAT Woolmer left his South African post to accept one in Pakistan was jumping out of the frypan into the fire.
First, he had a group of players more interested in their bank balance than their cricket credibility. They were paper tigers -- a team that on paper looked formidable, but in action were a limp collection of smug, feted athletes.
Woolmer's death in the Pegasus Hotel in Jamaica was a shock to the cricket world. He was a cricket lover, a pre-eminent coach, an honest and down-to-earth bloke.
He boasted, after all he had been through, that the last thing that would kill him was a heart attack. And he was never the type likely to even contemplate suicide.
Now that Scotland Yard is investigating his sudden death, and specialists are arriving from America as well, the homicide inquiry hopefully will quickly unravel the circumstances of his death.
Woolmer was set to retire from the Pakistan coaching job to take up junior coaching in South Africa.
However it was common knowledge that he was writing two books. One was about his coaching experiences, the other about his cricketing life and philosophies.
But anyone connected with illegal gambling or drugs within Pakistan circles who did not know its proposed contents -- and feared an expose that could identify them or their cronies -- may well have been prepared to do anything to prevent the story being told.
If that were the case, that may well be the reason Woolmer was murdered.
Yes, we are talking about fanatics, and, unfortunately, potentially those from the seediest side of Pakistan.