During the week, two friends asked me questions that prompted this article.

The first was: “Do people need to lower their expectations of our sporting stars? All champions are flawed in one way or another.”

My astute friend who has spent a lifetime around sport and the media, followed up with: “We can be a judgemental lot can’t we? I certainly am.”

The second question put to me was: “Have you seen the recent interview between Piers Morgan and Nick Kyrgios?”

That friend — one of the most black-and-white people I know — said: “I used to hate Nick Kyrgios, but seeing him as a person in that interview, with all his struggles and self-admitted flaws, made me change my mind.”

With a smile I asked him, how can you hate him, when you have never met him, or know anything about him.

He just shrugged his shoulders and said: “I just don’t like how he carries on and behaves.”

Fair enough I thought, but both responses got me thinking.

On the one hand, I have always said you can be a good person and a good player. In some cases a great person and a great player — Roger Federer comes to mind.

I am sure everyone aspires to that level, but sometimes this is unachievable. The result is that something must give, because the pressure to be perfect — that most can never understand — can be debilitating.

Athletes are also human beings who will make mistakes. Upbringings vary, as do personalities. This is the wonderful part of the tapestry of life, let alone sport.

English rugby union superstar, Sir Jonny Wilkinson, was the epitome of perfectionism. His accolades and achievements were awe-inspiring.

Today, he talks openly about the crippling mental health issues he faced because of his constant striving for brilliance. He is not alone.

Going back further, fans loved Floyd Paterson, one of Muhammad Ali’s most formidable rivals.

He was the polite black boxer who wanted to be liked. He didn’t go for the trash talking of his opponent, he aimed to be perfect and loved. Sadly, that probably stopped him from achieving higher accolades and it drove him to the darkest of depression.

Mistakes don’t make them bad people; in most cases they make them better people. That’s my experience anyway.

Pulitzer Prize-winning author David Remnick wrote of Paterson in his brilliant book, ‘King of the World’: “His depression deepened. He sat alone for days, not reading, not talking, pushing everyone away. In three weeks, he left his house twice.”

George Best, one of the all-time great soccer players, was famously quoted as saying: “I spent a lot of money on booze, birds, and fast cars. The rest I just squandered.”

He once admitted to contemplating suicide and died as a chronic alcoholic. The world is littered with similar stories.

Our own Ben Cousins, one of the best AFL players I have ever seen, fought through his public battles with drug addiction. Again, he is not alone. He is an example of brilliance on the sporting field, with perceived flaws off it.

But who are we to judge? None of us have any idea what drove him to drugs and the lifestyle he chose. Thankfully he is currently in a healthy state, and inspiring so many to dig themselves out of a dark hole.

I for one, have nothing for admiration for his courage, strength, vulnerability.

When I watched the interview between Piers Morgan and Nick Kyrgios this week, I was reminded of our penchant for judgement. I have never met Nick and have been guilty of judging his behaviours, but when I listened to his story, I was intrigued, and my view certainly softened.

Watching two of the world’s most polarising characters go head-to-head in a refreshingly honest interview was interesting and a great reminder of what we expect from our champions, when we have no idea about them.

In the no-holds-barred interview, Morgan referenced a letter the late, great Shane Warne wrote to Kyrgios.

Dear Nick Kyrgios,

We all realise you’re only 20 and have a lot to learn buddy. But please don’t waste your talent, everyone in the world, especially us Australians want to respect you.

Remember, respect is way more important than being liked, you need to respect the game of tennis and yourself. We all make mistakes, but it’s how we learn from them and the way we conduct ourselves when we lose that shows true character.

You’re testing our patience mate. Show us what you’re made of and how hungry you are to be the best in the world, it’s time to step up and start winning, no excuses.

No shame in losing, but show us you will never give up, that you will give it everything to be the best you can be. Respect is earned not given! I believe in you and know you can do it, but now’s the time my friend.

Shane Warne

I could just see Warney writing this in a moment of frustration. It was almost as if he was writing a letter to his 20-year-old self.

The greatest thing I ever did was play cricket with Shane Warne, but it was not without its challenges. Our friend and teammate spent a lot of time on the front pages rather than the back ones.

He had his flaws, but my gosh I will remember his genius on the field, and kindness and loyalty to his mates off it, more than I will remember his moments of madness, or fun, depending on your lens.

Shane and Piers Morgan were close friends, who didn’t/don’t mind ruffling a few feathers along the way. I can imagine Nick Kyrgios would have formed a nice trio if the three of them had have had a chance to sit down and laugh over a beer or two.

Their conversation would have been as entertaining as the anything they could deliver in their very public lives.

Dennis Lillee and Rod Marsh were my heroes growing up. They have a grandstand named after them at the WACA. But neither were altar boys.

Dennis once attempted to kick Pakistan’s Javed Miandad during a Test match. He also threw his aluminium bat after it was outlawed by the umpires.

He could be grumpy, prickly and scary on the cricket field and he was never backward in telling the truth. We laugh about it now, but I bet he was vilified back then.

His partner in crime was the same. Brutally honest, at times controversial, Rod Marsh once famously drank 51 cans of beer on a flight to England. Legend has it he broke the record of 44, held by his 50 cigarettes-a-day teammate Dougy Walters.

Rod was wheeled through customs in Heathrow on a baggage trolley and one tabloid carried the headline: “Marsh Splashes Down.”

My first roommate in the Australian team David Boon went a few cans better in 1989. Coach Bobby Simpson was furious and wanted to send him home, he was a national disgrace to some, a bloody hero to others. Who’s right or wrong?

Imagine that today. A moment of madness or fun; a villain or a hero? It depends on how you judge it.

Only this week, Boony said: “I’ve got to be brutally honest here, I won’t deny it happened. We all do stupid things in our lives, and I’ll finish by just being serious.

“You have fun, you do something and then you think, ‘Shit, what about the ramifications to everything else, to your family, to your children’.”

John McEnroe, love him or hate him was my idol as a kid. I loved watching him play tennis. No player in history behaved worse.

Muhammed Ali was hated by many for his stance on religion and conscription. His loudmouth antics was the source of much ridicule. He was stripped of his titles, denigrated, belittled, criticised. And yet he died, not only as the greatest ever boxer, but as one of the most-loved people in history. Go figure.

Tiger Woods, David Beckham, Ian Botham, the list goes on.

Arguably the best sports book I have read is ‘Open’ by another extraordinary tennis player Andre Agassi.

In it, he wrote: “I think older people make this mistake all the time with younger people, treating them as finished products when in fact they’re in process. It’s like judging a match before it’s over, and I’ve come from behind too often, and had too many opponents come roaring back against me, to think that’s a good idea.”

These are wise words from one who walked in their shoes. Sometimes our expectations of our heroes don’t meet the outcomes, but at the end of the day, the world would be a worse place, without our flawed geniuses.

Mistakes don’t make them bad people; in most cases they make them better people. That’s my experience anyway.