An innocent man wronged by the system? Or a criminal deserving of a life sentence for a switch-hit at training in 2015?
The Crimes Against Glenn Maxwell – an explosive 12-year made-for-reality series – is a saga described by critics as so layered, so corrupt and so sordid, it must involve either sex or a parody account.
Maxwell’s plight has paralysed water coolers and courtrooms across Australia like no other, vexing everyone with the million-dollar question – could they seriously bat him below the second seamer?
Is he oppressed by grand-scale collaboration? Or has he courted punitive action by goofing-off in the nets, because the only place for comedy is team photos or the batting order?
Documenting the Victorian’s journey from undeniable state prodigy back to undeniable state prodigy, the series showcases the persecution of a man statistically exonerated by every calculator in the land.
Sentenced by a bureaucratic agenda to rot for life in the 12th man’s vest, Maxwell’s story mirrors other alleged victims of the justice system like Steven Avery and Chadd Sayers, just without the heinous crimes of murder and timid outswing.
A humble, hard-working southerner with a 360 range, Maxwell grew up with the dream of all young Australians: to play Test cricket while curating a generous property portfolio from T20.
While no angel in his early years – sustaining charges for a series of petty crimes including reverse sweeping as a ‘sighter’ – Maxwell overcame his impulsive urges to eventually fulfil his dream of playing for his country.
But after earning a galactic rise and a fruitful relationship with selectors, his career took a diabolical turn.
High-ranking figures became inexplicably soured by Maxwell’s name, and he was eventually banished from the national set-up for the convenient-yet-unspeakable crime of skylarking in the nets. It was later proven to be David Warner chasing a mynah bird.
But after serving his time and carrying out vague parole conditions such as “training smarter”, Maxwell again found himself on trial for a crime he did not commit.
Gleefully claiming they had finally landed their big fish, administrators could punish Maxwell again after constructing manipulated evidence proving he couldn’t bat because he gave himself a nickname.
After convincing themselves “The Big Show” moniker was self-appointed by Maxwell, the all-rounder was charged without right of reply. No on-air tapes of James Brayshaw have ever been found since.
Despite achieving the tenuous conviction, authorities continue to taunt Maxwell in perjury, scalding him for ignoring instructions by failing to score runs while not playing matches.
Will he be forever destined to serve a life sentence in pathways, second XI’s and deep in the order?
Download the Maxwell story along with other stories of cruel and unjust punishments in Australian cricket, such as The Curious Case of Aaron Finch Opening and The Expanded Big Bash.