Can cricket afford to gloat at itself after the spot-fixing verdict? Lawrence Booth, in the Daily Mail, does not think so, and says that it must be kept in mind that it needed a newspaper to do part of the ICC's anti-corruption job.

Seen in that light, the prosecution of the Pakistani cricketers looks less like a vindication of cricket's capacity to self-police than a ruffle of the hair for tabloid journalism. What if the News of the World train their sights elsewhere next time? Who will shine the light in dark corners then? There is no definitive answer - and that, for cricket, is the scariest aspect of this sorry saga.

"The whistle blower in sport has to be a brave man. He puts his finger on colleagues he has played with for years, so becomes the team pariah, an outcast who cannot be trusted," writes Suresh Menon on ESPNStar. "Yet, if the evil of match-fixing and all its cousins, including spot-fixing, is to be eliminated from cricket, then players who notice things out of the ordinary must be encouraged to report them."

Players are not dumb; they usually have a shrewd idea who is pulling his weight in the team and who is not. Years after Mohammad Azharuddin was implicated in the scandal, a player told me: "I knew there was something funny going on, but I had no idea what." His response was to withdraw deeper into himself and not ask embarrassing questions.

That is why when a player does speak up, it must be seen not as ratting on teammates but serving the higher cause of the sport. This means that he should be guaranteed the support of his captain, his officials and the media. The captain and the officials follow protocol, the former passing on the matter to the latter, but the media are out of anybody's control.

Every cricket-related betting or fixing scandal over the past decade has been different; it is not the same story being repeated over and over again, writes Ashok Malik on Yahoo. Given this changing template, there is no guarantee that the problem will vanish and fixing and player bribery will be sorted out forever, should India legalise sports betting.

Between 2000 and now a new animal has taken over the betting business: online betting. Betting websites are fascinating in their operations and in many ways approximate trading in the stock market. The odds for a match are set not by an individual bookie or a consortium of wise men but by the market.

Odds keep changing as a match proceeds. You can bet at various stages of the match and fine-tune your bet given your understanding of the game's trajectory. If your understanding is determined by insider information - as opposed to merely a cricket fan's assessment - there's a fortune waiting.

The News of the World sting has turned the cricketing world upside down and made match fixing topic du jour once again. In Open magazine, Aniruddha Bahal, goes inside the tabloid’s undercover operation and breaks it down, meeting by meeting.

The setting was a classic undercover strategy, specially where an impression needed to be conveyed of opulence and power. In this case, the NOTW team pretended to be members of a betting syndicate (two males accompanied by a female secretary). It was also a classic ruse to flood the scene with pinhole cameras. The presence of three undercover reporters at the table meant that there was a reassuring number of hidden cameras. In any such undercover scenario, the more camera circuitry you have swamping the scene, the more insurance you have. You never know which camera could go kaput on you, and it is always good to bank on the reliability of numbers.

Ironically, at this meeting Majeed abused “Pakistanis” quite a lot, saying something to the effect that he “liked to deal with Indians” instead. He also sat on the table with two phones—one a BlackBerry mobile and the other a downmarket phone wrapped in polythene. He admitted to changing his Sim cards every other week, and he had a ready schedule of the Pakistan cricket team on one of his mobiles which he referred to every now and then.

If ever the players who have given statements to police are found guilty in court or by cricket authorities, I hope that the following is taken into account in the case of Mohammad Amir. Only 18, and from an impoverished background, Amir would appear as much victim as perpetrator, a teenager whose head was easily turned, writes Derek Pringle in the Telegraph.

Surely his seniors should have been assuring him that his talent is a thousand times greater than any loathsome parasite who grooms players for a role in a murky trade. Instead, it might turn out, if indeed the allegations are proved, that they merely allowed him to be exploited as grotesquely as if he were a serf chained to a medieval overlord.

Mohammad Amir's monthly retainer from the Pakistan board is less than half of what Ishant Sharma earns for a single delivery he bowls in the IPL, a tournament that is out of bounds for Pakistan's cricketers. Lawrence Booth, writing in the Mail Online brings out the vast income differential that exists within international cricket.

The £4,000 cheque that Mohammad Amir picked up at Lord’s on Sunday as Pakistan’s player of the series underlined his country’s status as the poor relations of world cricket. It would be small change for most international cricketers, but is more than three times the £1,300 he earns a month from his Pakistan Cricket Board contract. Although the Pakistanis are thought to pick up around £3,000 per Test, that is still half as much as the English and Australian players.

Stuart Broad, England's hero in the Lord's Test that has come under the scanner, writes in the same paper that even if the allegations are proved, they will not take away the sheen from the home team's come-from-behind win. He hopes the ODI series will go on, and says irrespective of who represents Pakistan, England will be giving their all and "we trust the opposition will be, too".

This was the biggest achievement in my Test career so far, even bigger than my bowling spell at The Oval when we won the Ashes last year, and nothing can take that away from me. Believe me, the bowling was of a very high standard against us at Lord's. Ask our batsmen, who were out cheaply as we slipped to 47 for five, whether or not that was full-blooded Test cricket out there and they will tell you that it was extremely tough going.

ECB chief Giles Clarke's disdain while handing out the series award to Amir left no one in doubt about his opinion of the seamer. James Lawton writes in the Independent that such a reaction was uncalled for from the man who welcomed Allen Stanford's dodgy millions with a smile and open arms, for Amir, like Clarke in the Stanford saga, has "put his trust in someone who soon enough was proved utterly unworthy of it".

This is wrong not because Amir is innocent, and can reasonably hope to escape without some punishment for his misdeeds. It is just too judgemental, too easy, and does not begin to recognise the fact that cricket did nothing to protect arguably its brightest star. Where were the leaders of cricket when the dynamics of the boy's downfall were being put in place? Universally, it seems they were on other business, some of it fawning on crooks with bags of gold.

Tariq Ali writes in the Guardian that the malaise surrounding the Pakistan team is symptomatic of the corruption in the country's politics and its past match-fixing shenanigans that were papered over as opposed to weeded out.

The rotten core of Pakistani cricket long predates the emergence of Zardari and the present bunch of rogue politicians. There have been three semi-judicial inquiries since the 80s, the last of which, presided over by Justice Qayyum in 2000, suggested that allegations of match-fixing in Pakistan began when Asif Iqbal was captain (1979-80). He was said to have lost the toss against India, simply informing his surprised counterpart that he'd won – somethign Asif has denied.

Ricky Ponting, writing in the Australian, outlines Australia’s philosophy of trying to win every game.

It is inconceivable to me that anybody would try to throw a game or be involved in fixing. I was completely shocked when I saw it on television and read the papers ...

It is the collateral damage that is most concerning to us and naturally the focus comes back to the Sydney Test. Not for one moment did any of us suspect that anything untoward or suspicious was happening as that game unfolded. It is interesting that it took a long time for suspicion to focus on that game. If it was that blatant you would have thought the allegations would have started straight away.

In the Age Greg Baum looks back at the Sydney Test.

The British press has expressed shock, disappointment, anger and a sense of betrayal over the Pakistan spot-fixing allegations. All agree that the damage to the game has been enormous, and that if anyone is found guilty, punishment should be exemplary.

The Guardian, in an editorial, says that even a decade after the Hansie Cronje affair, the devastating claims of fixing still hold up.

That Mohammad Amir, a precocious talent, is at the heart of the current allegations is particularly damaging. Cricket must put its house in order fast. Nothing undermines the credibility of any sport more than the suspicion that what you are watching is in fact a fix.

The Independent says that a country like Pakistan, where people look up to cricket for moral inspiration, deserves better than to have it rubbed in that cricket is not devoted to fair play. Just getting rid of a few rotten apples won’t solve the problem, vigilance is the only way forward.

Indeed, this whole saga is very sad. It is damaging to the reputation of cricket, and is another blow to Pakistan, a country that is still partly under water and desperately in need of good news. Misgoverned for decades, it has a political class that contains few people whom anyone seriously looks up to for moral inspiration – hence, in part, the almost fanatical devotion to a sport that supposedly incarnates the ideal of fair play.

Nasser Hussain, in the Daily Mail, finds it hard to believe that the issue is only about a few no-balls. He says that if people can be involved in spot-fixing, it can also lead to more ominous stuff.

And the worry is that this is merely the tip of the iceberg. I find it hard to believe that we’re just talking about a few no-balls. I’m not pointing fingers at individuals but if guys get sucked into so-called spot-fixing, it can lead to more sinister stuff.

One minute you’re conceding a prearranged number of runs in a bowling spell, the next you’re throwing an actual match — and this fixer is now saying the Sydney Test against Australia in January was thrown.

Jonathan Agnew, in his BBC column, wonders how people will react if they see Mohammad Amir or Mohammad Asif bowling a no-ball in the Twenty20 international in Cardiff on Sunday. He wants a thorough investigation into the affair.

The game cannot afford for this to be swept under the carpet and if that means Pakistan, when this tour comes to an end, must serve a temporary exile from international cricket then so be it.

In the case of Amir, who is 18, it is terrible that a supremely talented youngster could be exposed to this. He is a delightful bowler with terrific skills. How sad it would be if it turns out his career is wrecked, but if anyone is involved in corruption he must be banned for life.

Dileep Premachandran in his Guardian blog feels that the malaise can be traced to the low wages the Pakistan players receive compared to their IPL-playing Indian counterparts. He also says that the Qayyum inquiry a decade ago had a chance to cleanse the system, but it merely absolved some of the biggest names.

In 2000, Qayyum recommended that "the PCB increase the pay of its cricketers and develop for them more avenues of income ... Pakistani players for all their talent are not as well-paid as their counterparts abroad. As long as they are underpaid the tendency to be bribed remains."

Michael Vaughan, in the Telegraph, feels the ODI series can wait but the game deserves to be cleaned up first. He says what happened is good for cricket in a way because the administrators now have nowhere to hide.

The future will hold some pretty uncomfortable questions for the Anti-Corruption Unit at the International Cricket Council. Why has it taken a British newspaper sting to bring it out in the open? What has the ACU been doing? It has operatives working all over the world and the ACU costs the game millions. But a British newspaper story has blown it open. It is embarrassing.

Ramiz Raja, in the Telegraph, does not think a lack of money is the reason. He blames the mentality of quick-fix which is due to a lack of leadership in Pakistani society.

It is about how an individual approaches life. What he wants to be and how he wants to live. When money is thrown on the table some people will say 'take it away and get out'. Others will take the money. It is about dishonesty, not how much you are being paid.

Cricket needs to use its TV-generated wealth to zealously monitor the game, writes Peter Preston in the Guardian. Ceremonial bans will achieve little.

You won't, in short, solve anything by draconian bans, by wiping whole nations from the cricketing map. You need to target the pushers. Pakistan, in yet another way, needs help and understanding – not ritual rage.

The PCB has allowed a culture to develop that has continued to tarnish the game, says Martin Samuel in the Daily Mail. This culture has now claimed one of the brightest talents cricket has seen, Mohammad Amir, as collateral damage.

Too many trusting men allowed themselves to be mesmerised by the myth of Pakistan cricket, its mood swings, its brilliant highs and devastating lows. They were spellbound and did not spot that the truth was considerably nastier, more grimly depressing.

It is not yet clear if anything will come of the allegations of so-called "spot-fixing" against a pair of Essex cricketers. However, it would be naive in the extreme to think that fixing does not go on and, despite the best efforts at regulation. The shorter the game, the easier it is to fix outcomes, which therefore makes Twenty20 vulnerable, writes Mike Selvey in the Guardian.

Some years ago, I arrived at Lord's for a domestic final, to be greeted by a friend who likes his gamble. What, he asked, did I think would be the spread on the number of deliveries before a wide was signalled. Knowing who would be bowling the opening over and from which end, I thought the chances of a first-ball wide were extremely high. It transpired the spread was 24 to 26 deliveries. As predicted the first delivery went miles down the leg-side and my chum was instantly several thousand pounds richer.

If Essex players are found guilty of any wrong-doing, the implications for English cricket would be huge and financially disastrous, writes Scyld Berry in the Sunday Telegraph.

In The Daily Telegraph, Peter Foster looks at the bookmakers who still stalk cricket, seven years after the ICC set about rooting corruption out of the game.

From the back-streets of Karachi and Mumbai to the gleaming towers of Hong Kong and Dubai, cricket's bookmaking underworld is still operating. Chief among those nations are the sub-continental rivals of India and Pakistan where, despite betting on cricket being illegal, millions of pounds regularly change hands over a single game. Annually, the profits can be counted in billions.

But the nature of gambling has changed, forced to adapt from the brash efforts to influence entire teams to a far more subtle approach.

It makes grim reading. In the same paper, Simon Hughes gives a first-hand report from the subcontinent.

On a trip to Pakistan some years ago, I stopped by an anonymous club match one afternoon. Two batsmen were slowly playing themselves in. After one apparently featureless over, a gaggle of spectators suddenly engaged in an unseemly scuffle. When some time had elapsed and peace was restored, I ventured over to investigate what had happened. It emerged that one man had bet another the over would be a maiden. When a leg-bye was run off the last ball of the over, they couldn't agree who had won the wager (despite the extra it still constituted a maiden) and fists flew.