Disgraced Pakistani cricketers Salman Butt, Mohammad Amir and Mohammad Asif have all been jailed by an English court, along with player agent Mazhar Majeed, for match-fixing described by the judge as a betrayal of fans.
It's an extraordinary case that has thrown much-needed light on the murk of international cricket. But this case - covered with full hoopla by the international media - has overshadowed the real problem in relation to gambling.
Dodgy betting is rife in some first-class sport. That's no surprise to anyone. Across Asia - and, no doubt, here in Australia too - it's possible to bet on questions as obscure as how many players in a given match will wear sunglasses, or what colour their caps will be. Corruption and disrespect for the fans is rife. But in Australia, the gravest danger to everyday gamblers is not whether the Pakistanis threw a match.
It's much more mundane: poker machines. The hottest debate in politics is whether the federal government should impose tougher regulation on pokies. Obviously, the vast majority of pokie players are enjoying a bit of harmless entertainment. They lose a bit of cash, then walk off to do something more interesting. But there is widespread acceptance that problem gambling exists, and that pokies are a magnet for the lonely and vulnerable poor - the people who can least afford to lose. The clubs and pubs say they've got the problem under control with "solutions" like helplines and warning signs.
Independent MP Andrew Wilkie has effectively forced the government to agree to his demand to introduce mandatory pre-commitment - which would mean punters can gamble as much as they like, within a limit they've set for themselves each day.Fellow independents Nick Xenophon and Tony Windsor say it'd be better - and easier - to impose a $1 maximum bet on machines.
Either way, this is an issue on which the government can - and should - hold its nerve. The pubs, clubs and federal opposition are (quite successfully) seeking to turn this into a debate about something entirely different, blurring the genuine question of problem gambling with frightening threats that pokie controls will kill clubs and all their good works.
They say it's "nanny state" meddling; if people want to bet, let 'em. That might be true for betting on horses, or playing blackjack at a casino. But poker machines are, I think, in a special category for one simple reason.
There's no intimidation factor. Walking into a TAB - or barrelling up to the tables at a fancy casino - requires a level of chutzpah and forethought. A TAB is a daunting place for the novice gambler; a confusing array of pens on strings and microscopic check-boxes.
A couple of friends attempted to teach me two weeks ago how to do a parlay bet - that is, several horses in different races, combined on the same betting slip.
It was like doing the census. Not surprisingly, I won't be parlaying a cent unless one of my mates takes it upon himself to walk me down to the TAB and hold the pen for me. Ditto the casino games. Many people aren't entirely sure what they're supposed to do at a roulette table or poker game, beyond sipping a martini and looking glamorous.
But, as we all know, poker machines are deliciously simple. Take some cash, stick it in the slot and push the button. It's easy, gentle fun. That is why poker machines are so dangerous. They can winkle away the mortgage payment and the grocery money, just like that.
You could, if you were so inclined, gamble away your life savings on the antics of dishonest sportsmen like the cheating Pakistani cricketers. But you'd have to work a lot harder. Pokie revenue will fall with greater regulation. That's a good thing - no matter how the clubs try to spin it.