It seems that as far as the British are concerned, if there is one thing worse than wanting a world-class sporting hero to lionise, it's getting one.

Now they've landed one: Lewis Hamilton. But it turns out that Hamilton, who set his sights on being Formula One world champion when his peers were still sucking rusks, is single-minded, ruthless and arrogant. Who would have thought it?

Here is the first Briton in a generation who has a serious chance of trumping Michael Schumacher's seven Formula One titles. Yet the national celebration of his glorious victory in Brazil has been tainted with sneers and sniping. In an age when sport is competitively ruthless, Britain still prefers its sporting heroes to triumph without appearing to be trying; as if they have just broken a world record on the village green, between a picnic lunch and a jam-sandwich tea. They dream of someone who combines the track record of Don Bradman with the morals of Mother Teresa.

Does such a mix exist in a sporting champion's DNA? Can you lead the pack without being so driven that you can come across as arrogant and cocksure? Muhammad Ali rarely tired of boasting that he was the greatest. It turns out that he was. John McEnroe was never shy about his tennis talents, or his judgments on line calls. Douglas Jardine won few friends when he introduced match-winning bodyline bowling against Australia's batsmen. Usain Bolt looked almost disdainfully cocky as he slowed to a stroll for the last few metres of his Olympic sprinting success in Beijing this summer. But oh, what a sight that was!

With Hamilton, as with the tennis player Andy Murray, Britons want success in a candy coating.Winning? That's not enough. Only in sport, it is.