FOOTBALLERS are hardly the most ideologically driven characters, so why is it that they have taken to wearing “awareness bracelets” with the self-righteous zeal of adolescent lefties? First, the Premiership was awash with the “Live Strong” yellow wristbands created by Lance Armstrong, the cyclist. Since then we have seen as many different causes on footballers’ forearms as logos on their kits.

A blue band with “Beat Bullying” emblazoned upon it is the most recent to have taken their fancy. Rio Ferdinand, Wayne Rooney, Frank Lampard, Steven Gerrard, David Beckham and Thierry Henry are among those to have worn them. In December, we saw Sergei Rebrov, of West Ham United, wearing an orange band in support of Viktor Yushchenko, then a presidential hopeful in Ukraine.

The trend is not confined to footballers. Many of the athletes at the Olympic Games in Athens sported wristbands, including Hicham El Guerrouj, who won both the 1,500 metres and 5,000 metres gold medals while wearing the Armstrong bracelet. Last month, Kerri Strug, the 1996 Olympic gold medal-winning gymnast, agreed to become the first to wear the purple band of the Lupus Foundation of America, which is not to be confused with the orange one promoted by the rival SLE Lupus Foundation.

In fact, the proliferation of colours is such that it is virtually impossible to keep track. New colours include light blue (prostate cancer), dark blue (child abuse, colon cancer), white (right to life, Alzheimer’s), dark green (ecology, leukaemia, organ donor) and pink (breast cancer).

The near-ubiquitous participation of sportsmen and women in this new craze is a good thing, of course. But what gets one’s goat is the complete lack of self-sacrifice associated with the enlightened principles that they claim to endorse. It reminds me of the long-haired brigade at college who wore “Feed Africa” badges and had jolly good discussions about the iniquity of Third World debt but never once lifted a finger to do anything about it.

The one chap actually to get his hands dirty by taking a year out working for a charity in Somalia kept himself to himself. We only got to hear about it from his sister.

One is reminded of the Sermon on the Mount: “When you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing.”

Do not get me wrong. Given their iconic status, superstars undoubtedly can be a force for good by merely associating themselves publicly with worthy causes: the “Live Strong” wristband, for example, has reportedly helped to raise more than $15 million (about £8 million) for cancer sufferers. But that does not prevent one from harbouring suspicions about the strength of their commitment if it amounts to nothing more than rolling up their sleeves and slipping on a rubber band.

Pouting, Ferrari-driving footballers may be taken more seriously in their new role as the ethical conscience of the nation if they spent more time visiting hospitals or gave a bigger proportion of their cash to the downtrodden with whom they claim to sympathise. If you want to see self-sacrifice, look at the millions donated to the tsunami disaster by hard-pressed working families, or, indeed, Michael Schumacher’s donation of $10 million (about £5.35 million).

Ferdinand was fêted recently for all the time that he gave to charity during his eight-month suspension for missing a drugs test. In truth, the media stories were more a tribute to his publicist than his compassion. OK, he did spend a couple of hours a week on community projects, but that hardly merits his new reputation as football’s answer to Mother Teresa.

You would have thought that the unique capacity that footballers possess for lighting up faces might have encouraged more of them to venture more often into leukaemia wards and the like. Charlton Athletic, for example, do tremendous work in the community, but they are the exception. Why bother when you can stick on a wristband and get more plaudits than Nelson Mandela? The craze has not been without its problems. The “Stop Bullying” campaign backfired rather predictably when classroom thugs started to target wearers for head-down-toilet treatment. The Armstrong band had to be taped over by staff at hospitals in the United States after nurses complained that they were difficult to distinguish from “do not resuscitate” bands of the same colour.

Inevitably, the astonishing demand for wristbands spawned black markets once stocks ran out. You can find various types selling on Ebay for up to 30 times the cover price with the proceeds lining the pockets of scum more than happy to rob the needy by preying on the impatient. The defects of unbridled capitalism can also be seen in the shops that have sprouted like parasites since the beginning of the trend, mimicking the charitable bands while stealing the cash.

Not that this racketeering is the fault of the sportsmen and women who wear the bands. They are doing what they think is best for a good cause. But the danger is that they will convince themselves that their new fashion statement absolves them of any further responsibility to the world that helped to make them multimillionaires.

Good gestures are one thing, but not when they turn into gesturism.