There was a spell of animated 'hugging' in the Seventies, borrowed from the football pitch, which tempted the older generation of cricketers to question the manliness of the moderns but that seemed to die a natural death. Just as well, perhaps, or the sliding dive and the shirt pulled over the face would no doubt have followed.
Another recent trait that grates with me is the batsman who, having reached 50 or a 100, waves his bat to his mates in the pavilion before acknowledging the applause of the crowd. It is like tennis players who indulge themselves in a private display of extravagant emotion before getting round to shaking the hand of their beaten opponent. Just bad manners, if the truth be told.
It is quite a shock to look back at film of the Fifties and Sixties to see how little reaction there is from fielders to an important wicket. Even a great crowd communicator like Freddie Trueman was content to puff out his chest and toss his mane of black hair, and there was never a hint of hand signals to tell the batsman where to find the pavilion. Even when Fred took his 300th Test wicket, only the odd handshake came his way.
The nearest Fred got to 'sledging' was to tell a struggling batsman: ``Thah's got more flippin' edges than a threepenny bit''. As for Dexter the batsman, the only person who spoke out of turn to me was a long forgotten Hampshire fielder who informed me that I would have plenty of time to read The Sporting Life after a rapid dismissal at Hove. Not Colin Ingleby-Mackenzie, I assure you.
Come to think of it, who was the first close-catcher to hurl the ball in the air? Definitely not Colin Cowdrey, who preferred to tease the crowd and occasionally fool the batsman by slipping the ball into his pocket and turning his back as though the ball had slipped through his hands to the boundary. I think he learned the trick from Walter Hammond.
I have a vague recollection of Glamorgan's great catcher at short leg, 'Hookey' Walker, throwing the ball away while still in mid-air, and it was fairly commonplace by the time Ian Botham came along with some of the highest under-arm verticals seen. England's current first slip, Graham Thorpe, tends to break into nothing more than a jubilant trot, with extravagant displays left to outfielders who cling on to a steepler.
Television has had a hand in things to the extent that fielders will do a double victory roll with grass stains galore to achieve a good pick-up, as against a triple flip, if they miss, to show what a great effort it was. And I swear some batsmen arch their backs and throw their helmeted heads around at extreme angles, avoiding a bouncer for no other reason than to get their picture in the paper the following day.
As the winning Sussex captain presented with the Gillette Cup at Lord's in 1963, the first year of what was then coyly called 'The Knock-out Cup,' it was thought slightly out of order when I lifted it above my head in the Wembley tradition. I was not actually admonished by the hierarchy but there was a definite signal of disapproval. Was it me who started it all?
Of course it is only a short step from triumphalism when an appeal is upheld by the umpire to various forms of dissent when the decision goes the other way. The South African fielders were a bit near the knuckle in this respect during the Lord's Test, prompting a general reminder of Law 42 to both captains from the match referee.
This states: ``The captains are responsible at all times for ensuring that play is conducted within the spirit of the game as well as within the Laws.'' Until now, there has been no attempt to define what is meant by ``the spirit of the game'' but an MCC initiative under the guidance of Lord Tonbridge (Colin Cowdrey) has produced just such a definition called 'The Spirit of Cricket'.
It remains to be seen how this amplification of the Laws will be put across to new generations of cricketers but the idea is that every young player who suddenly finds himself with the captaincy, at whatever level, will be made aware of his responsibilities to the game as well as the need for winning leadership.
The fact that the closely-fought draw at Manchester was conducted in a somewhat less confrontational atmosphere suggests that home truths do need to be spelled out from time to time, even to the greatest in the game. It is a tribute to Hansie Cronje and to Alec Stewart that they responded positively.
Of course one's heart bled for the unfortunate Mark Ramprakash, given out a second time against the evidence of the replay, but he, too, had learned a hard lesson and went out without demur. How long will propriety last? Watch this space.