By the time you read this, Muttiah Muralitharan is likely to have become the highest Test wicket taker in cricket’s long history. It’s an extraordinary, heartwarming achievement that will

be celebrated at length and in style in Sri Lanka, and elsewhere in the cricket world. But there will be quarters, particularly in Australia, where it will be begrudged and depicted as tainted.

The allegation is that Murali throws rather than bowls: that he bends his elbow when releasing the ball. It goes back to his being no-balled against Australia in 1995 — by Darrell Hair, the umpire who made the ball-tampering allegation against Pakistan at the Oval last year (which led to the Pakistanis refusing to play and forfeiting the match). Over the years Australian fans, commentators and politicians, notably the outgoing Prime Minister, John Howard, formed a chorus of detraction, branding Murali a cheat.

That Murali will have overhauled Shane Warne, the most celebrated Australian of the age (whose total of 708 Murali equalled on Dec. 2), to claim the record — probably in perpetuity — will only further sour their mood.

No bowler’s action has been as intensively scrutinised as Murali’s. Again and again it has been declared within the law. Murali’s detractors argue that the law was changed to accommodate him, and that Murali has been spared the rod because of the power of

the Asian bloc. They are wrong on both counts.

Anyone who cares for cricket should celebrate Murali’s achievement, which is the result of his own skill, accuracy, stamina, variety and ingenuity.

In his pomp, with the ball fizzing off the pitch — either way — he’s a magnificent sight. His whole body is involved in generating spin, yet he remains a marvel of balance in fluent motion, the eyes wide but sharply focused. And there’s the smile.

Murali relishes his craft and workload, and has done so throughout his career. He is proof that supreme competitive success need not be packaged with aggressive belligerence; not every triumph has to be celebrated with a vindictive roar and pumping fist. He’s not just a Sri Lankan hero; he belongs to us all.