Our sympathy at this time for Danny Cipriani, of London Wasps, is pretty much boundless. I mean, a man makes one simple mistake - not even a mistake, really, more an error of handling under pressure – and the next thing you know the Sunday tabloids are piling in and, worse, he’s getting hung out to dry in the press by one of his teammates.

Let’s retrace our steps to the beginning of this unfortunate saga, aspects of which grow no more plausible in the retelling. A while ago, Cipriani began a relationship with Monica Irimia, of the Cheeky Girls, thus becoming a member of a highly exclusive band of contemporary liberal thinkers (including Lembit Opik) who have dated a member of the Transylvanian-born singing duo behind such hits as The Cheeky Song (Touch My Bum) and Hooray Hooray (It’s A Cheeky Holiday), not to mention the disappointingly bracket-free Have a Cheeky Christmas.

So far, so good. Or rather, so far, so OK! magazine. Alas, a fortnight ago, trouble began to brew when a newspaper reported that, over and above his attachment to one of the Cheeky Girls, the Wasps fly half had taken a room in a Ramada hotel with a model called Larissa Summers. Furthermore, Larissa took it upon herself to reveal that congress had taken place that was “fast” and “frantic” and “in about three positions”. (The “about” is, we feel, touchingly imprecise and a rather moving tribute, in a way, to the fastness and the franticness.) Poor show, one would have to say.

The twist, though, was yet to come. The same newspaper paused only a week before revealing that the Larissa with whom the Wasps man had been frantic began her life as Darren Pratt, becoming Larissa only after surgical intervention. Or, as the paper reported it, “the 20-year-old fly half had no idea that before her sex-swap op the stunner had very different tackle”.

Cipriani’s reaction must be imagined, although news of the operation apparently came as no surprise to the people who knew Darren well. As one “school friend” put it: “We’re not shocked he had the sex change. He loved singing and dancing.” Anyway, another “friend”, but of Cipriani this time, seemed to be on to something when he suggested: “Danny may well come in for some ribbing over this.” Indeed.

And going for the ribs with a particular absence of fellow-feeling was Simon Shaw, the Wasps and England lock, who used his column in a local newspaper to reveal the dizzy world of mockery in which Cipriani finds himself.

Shaw evoked the glee with which the squad fell on the News of the World last Sunday (“Danny was responsible for the biggest turnout ever for a Wasps recovery session on a Sunday after a match”). He also revealed that Cipriani is now known, with the gift for oblique humour in which rugby dressing-rooms famously specialise, as “Danny Cipriani Who Slept With A Man”.

Shaw did, at least, insert a moment of caution. “I have been keeping a low profile,” he wrote, “because I know that if you rip into a teammate, it’s not very long before the tables are turned.” Good thinking. One minute you’re riotously slaughtering a pal for cheating on a Cheeky Girl with a “sex-swap stunner”, the next, k’zam, it’s you who has ditched a Romanian pop star for a girl called Darren and what went around is coming around tenfold. Still, you don’t need to be a genius to work out that Shaw’s “low profile” period on this matter is resoundingly over, as signalled by 750 words of picture-bylined newsprint.

To be frank, we find Shaw’s behaviour deeply disappointing. Not only unsympathetic to the feelings of a teammate, it implies a thriving stereotypical culture that we believed the sport had outgrown.

Has not Matt Dawson effectively led rugby union into a new era of sexual understanding by going all the way to the final of Strictly Come Dancing 2006 and then winning Celebrity Masterchef in the next season? Has Kenny Logan been wearing a translucent black shirt and Cuban heels on national Saturday night television this past month in vain? We took it that, massively enlightened by these developments in the public domain, the rugby dressing-room had become a place of broad tolerance.

Sadly, the sport still clearly has its grizzled cabal of unreconstructed sniggerers. Shame on you, Shaw – and on anyone else who thinks that there is anything to smirk about in the tale of Cipriani’s ill-starred liaison with Larissa, formerly Darren.

Pump up the bitter: losers in award ‘for losers’ begin familiar lament

With the BBC’s Sports Personality of the Year upon us, we’re just hours away from discovering which overlooked performer will lift the trophy for Badly Suppressed Resentment, as ungarlanded sportsmen and women up and down the country ask themselves (and other people): “What more do I have to do?”

Joe Calzaghe remains the bookies’ favourite to seize the honours here. In fact, the boxer was energetic in his disparagement of the Sports Personality of the Year contest last time around – describing it as a trophy for “losers” – so he probably needs a only couple more years of good-quality resentment to be eligible for the lifetime achievement award in this area. Whatever, 2007 finds him on sparkling form, offering the following assessment of his chances: “I was beaten by a gymnast and a bloody horse last time, so what chance have I got this year? It’s because I’m Welsh, I’m convinced of it.”

(Just to set the record straight, Calzaghe was beaten at the 2006 awards by a horse rider, Zara Phillips, rather than by a horse. He is quite correct, however, to state that he was beaten by a gymnast – Beth Tweddle.)

Also attracting the judges in this area is Andy Priaulx. According to crash.net, the motor sport website, the holder of the World Touring Car Championship title is “happy simply to be recognised within the sport, despite being overlooked for the BBC Sports Personality of the Year award”. Priaulx said that he was “not bitter” to have been omitted from the ten-person shortlist. “I’ve given up trying to educate people,” he added. “I’m just doing this for my own reasons now. I’ve always let my driving do the talking.”

At a far quieter level, but still worth a mention, Anna Hemmings, the K1 canoeist, has told the Wimbledon Guardian that, even if she had been invited to the Sports Personality of the Year ceremony (which she hasn’t), she would not be going. “As Sports Personality is in Birmingham now, I would have to miss training the next day and my coach is never amused when I do that,” the 30-year-old, who will be a medal contender in the 500 metres sprint at the Beijing Olympic Games, told the paper.

As for the team award in this category, it’s a shoo-in for the various bloggers and posters who have forcibly overcome their disbelief to agitate on behalf of unacknowledged sportspeople, many of whom are presumably (to adapt crash.net) happy simply to be recognised within their own homes. “How come there was never a mention of Chrissie Wellington for this award?” somebody asks. (Wellington won the Ironman triathlon in Hawaii this year.)

A special mention, too, for this post on everythingulster.com. “Needless to say, I won’t be watching the show. In my eyes, it has no credibility following this complete mockery of a nomination process.” The catalyst for this contempt? The panel’s failure to propose David Healy, of Fulham and Northern Ireland, for a silver model of a television camera.

Fair enough. Call the award clapped-out, tiresome and superfluous, if you must. But, if there’s one thing worse than being nominated for it, it’s not being nominated for it.