Remember three years back when Liverpool's Robbie Fowler created an international incident by trying to persuade a referee that he shouldn't have awarded a penalty in his favour against Arsenal at Highbury because David Seaman hadn't fouled him, when the referee thought he had?

It was a marvellous gesture of sportsmanship and honesty, but the very fact that it attracted so much attention and acclaim (including a FIFA Fair Play award) was an indication of just how unaccustomed we are to seeing professional sportsmen and women displaying such integrity.

Hands up, though, how many of you publicly applauded Fowler, while muttering to yourselves that if any player on your team did the same thing you'd demand that he be fined six months wages and instantly be slapped on the transfer list. Me too.

Most of today's professional sports stars would have regarded Fowler as a nutter for flaunting his honour in such a cavalier way, like Stan Collymore, who criticised his then team-mate at the time: "Robbie felt the need to point out he hadn't been touched," he guffawed. A true professional.

On the whole, if these types can get away with cheating, they will.

If they can get away with attributing their underperformance or failures to the referee, umpire, linesman, manager, supporters, weather, pitch, media, global-warming, inflation or stress, they will.

If they can get away with blaming anyone else for any of their mistakes, they will. And if they miss out on their win bonus, through anyone's fault but their own, they can't quite comprehend why an earthquake that claimed the lives of 10,000 people takes precedence over their disaster in the news.

That's why Padraig Harrington's reaction to the sporting calamity that befell him at the Benson and Hedges International Open last weekend was so utterly heart-warming and so wonderfully impressive.

Earlier this week I was talking to the mother of an Irish athlete who is going through agonies these days waiting to find out if she has qualified for the Olympic Games.

She spoke about Harrington, how impressed she was by the way he handled what happened to him at the Belfry and how she sat her daughter down and told her that he should be her inspiration.

"You couldn't have given anymore than you gave," she told her. "If you make it we'll be delighted for you and proud of you; if you don't we'll still be proud of you - but it won't be the end of the world. Look how Padraig Harrington coped with what happened him," she said.

She admired his dignity, she said, his gentle acceptance of the rules and his reluctance to blame anyone else for his misfortune, describing him as "a real man".

"I was ringing around my family as if there'd been a death, and obviously there hadn't," said Harrington.

"I haven't won the tournament and it's the same as if I didn't play well. The great thing about being a professional golfer is there is always next week, always another tournament."

He could have blamed Michael Campbell, who incorrectly signed his first-round card; he could have flung his clubs at the tournament director who informed him of his disqualification; he could have drowned in self-pity; he could have equated his misfortune with an earthquake that had just claimed 10,000 lives. But he didn't. With endearing charm and a shrug of the shoulders he accepted responsibility for the mistake that had cost him the tournament and, in the process, probably earned more new admirers than if he'd won the damned thing in the first place.

A bit like Jean van de Velde and the charming way in which he accepted his British Open catastrophe last year.

A while back Dermot Gilleece told us the story of Ky Laffoon, the 1930-40s American golfer who reacted to a bad day on the course by tying his putter to the rear bumper of his car and dragging it along the road as punishment.

Or, when things had gone seriously wrong, producing his pistol and shooting the "offending" club, before burying what remained in a bunker.

You and I might have done the same last weekend, with Campbell or the tournament director as our victims, but Harrington had more class.

Even if he wins 25 majors before he hangs up his clubs, his good nature last weekend will probably live even longer in the memory.

Fair play, Padraig.