BIT of a hit wicket there for you, Geoffrey, love. Or, for those who prefer their metaphorical balls a bit bigger, an own goal.

Reliable old Boycott – reliably turgid on the cricket field and reliably controversial off it – has finally earned the nickname.

Arise Sir Geoffrey. This time it is not merely an affectionate sobriquet: the 78-year-old former batsman has been honoured with a knighthood in Theresa May’s farewell gong list.

Along came the backlash.

He is, after all, a convicted domestic abuser and so not fit, come the protestations, for the office of Sir.

Invited on BBC Radio 4’s Today programme to discuss his win, it was put to Mr Boycott that the co-leader of Women’s Aid had opposed the decision to knight him.

"I don't give a toss about her, love,” he said. “It was 25 years ago so you can take your political nature and do whatever you want with it.”

Ah, but isn’t it 33 years since your playing career ended, darling? One can’t pick and choose which parts of one’s history one would like expunged due to the passage of time.

If a domestic abuse conviction ceases to count due to it having occurred more than a quarter of a century ago, surely your cricketing record ceases to count also?

Claiming your past crimes don’t count but your past glories still do is a cherry-pick too far.

This, of course, isn’t a fresh dilemma. The world of sport throws up this conundrum at routine intervals: why does society forgive violent men their misdemeanours when they have a certain talent at kicking or throwing a ball, and should it?

On a radio debate about the comeback of Tiger Woods earlier this year – although Woods’s indiscretions did not involve domestic abuse – it was suggested that it took real bravery and strength of character from sportsmen to return to the spotlight following a public shaming.

Quite a backwards take. Sportsmen train intensely for years in a game they love and are wholly invested in.

Giving that up, and all the associated trappings, would be the harder course.

And why would any of them give up their sport when violence against women is still minimised, overlooked and ignored?

Every time a talented player is convicted of domestic abuse or rape, there follows a conversation about whether he should still be allowed to take part in whatever professional game he plays.

Inevitably his colleagues and managers will support him; quite often the sports press will make limp excuses for the man’s behaviour.

It’s bonkers, really, to have a debate protracted over decades about whether it’s alright to hit a woman if you kick or hit a ball well.

Yet, here we are, and will we ever settle on an answer. The answer is no. No, it’s absolutely and emphatically not alright.

Mr Boycott, of course, could have turned down the honour, had he been so morally inclined, but here he is fielding calls from the press over an award made to him by Theresa May.

What of her?

Mrs May has made no secret of her passion for Boycs. He’s an interesting choice of sporting hero for the former PM given that, not only does he boast a domestic abuse charge, he has also form for racist comments.

Alongside famous quotes about catching balls between buttock cheeks and playing cricket with sticks of rhubarb, he also lamented being twice previously passed over for a knighthood, saying he better “black me face” and they are handed out to West Indians “like confetti”.

In November 2018, on declaring Boycott to be her favourite sportsman, she compared her Brexit battle to his slow but steady [Interminable – Sports Ed] style, and said: “Geoffrey Boycott stuck to it and he got the runs in the end.”

Prophetic. Nearly a year on and here we all are, feeling decidedly sick to our stomachs about Brexit.

Mrs May has not added Geoffrey Boycott to her goodbye honours list on a whim. It’s believed she has tried to sneak him on previously but the suggestion was vetoed.

What a spectacular own goal for her and what a demonstration of hypocritical thinking. As a key part of her legacy, the former PM introduced a new, groundbreaking domestic abuse bill.

Describing domestic abuse as a “vile crime”, she said the new act would be a “step-change in our approach” to the issue.

A legacy of condemning domestic abuse and knighting a domestic abuser? Perhaps she needed something more impressive than “wheat fields” in case the question of Mrs May’s naughtiest behaviour is ever posed again.

Tony Blair was on the radio recently talking about Brexit, a topic also dear to our friend Geoffrey’s heart.

I paraphrase, but his stance was along the lines of, “I know some people won't listen to me because of Iraq. But I feel so strongly about Brexit I have to speak out.”

The question of forgiveness is so closely tied to the expression of remorse.

Is there anything remorseful about Boycott? Hardly. He has consistently dismissed the woman he attacked as a liar and a desperate little miss who flew into a rage when he refused to put a ring on it.

A defence built on a bit of casual sexism is no defence, Geoffrey, doll.

In the winter of 1981/82, Mr Boycott was denied the England captaincy for the Test series against India, saying, in his ire, “Even the Yorkshire Ripper got a fair trial in the dock.”

And yet, when given a fair trial in the dock, the cricketer rejected the rule of law because it was conducted in a foreign court.

He may not have fully rescued the situation with humility but his clear scorn of women and their concerns shows.

This grim affair should leave a bitter taste in everyone’s mouth, particularly those of Sir Geoff and Mrs May.

It won’t, of course. We will have this debate about sportsmen again before long. When even those who condemn domestic abuse condone the actions of individuals, we will be stuck in a cycle of abuse.