NOV 9 — This week’s big sports story in America — one of the biggest news stories of any nature, in fact — has been the sudden departure of Jonathan Martin from NFL American Football team Miami Dolphins.

Martin, a second-year professional, was the victim of a locker room prank — one of the oldest pranks in the book — when he sat down for lunch with his teammates and the entire table, on cue, immediately stood up to depart.

Rather than taking the joke in good humour or with mock hysteria, as had been expected, Martin broke down. Within two minutes, he had left the team’s training facility and has never returned since.

Allegations of bullying were issued and the incident’s instigator, teammate and fellow offensive lineman (the big guys who never touch the ball) Richie Incognito, was indefinitely suspended.

Further revelations swiftly followed, all painting Incognito in a very dark light — especially the discovery of an aggressive voice mail left by Incognito for Martin which included terms of racial abuse (Martin is black; Incognito white) and threats of physical violence.

For a couple of days, the outcome appeared inevitable: Martin was the victim of bullying and Incognito was the guilty, indefensible aggressor.

Then something unexpected happened. Miami’s players, having initially maintained a collective silence, spoke up — and they spoke up, loudly and with feeling, in defence of Incognito, who was suddenly portrayed as a misunderstood good guy.

Incognito is not a bully, they insisted; Martin and Incognito were best friends; Martin was laughing about the infamous voicemail when he received it; nobody thought there was a problem in their relationship; Incognito was “the best teammate I could ask for,” according to the team’s star player, quarterback Ryan Tannehill; Incognito is a great guy, a joker, a team player and a leader, according to pretty much everyone.

Nobody said it, but the clear additional inference from his Miami teammates was that Martin is weak, he is overreacting and he should learn how to take a joke.

Claims and counter-claims are continuing to be issued and it appears the matter will eventually end up being settled in the courtroom — which could be bad news for Incognito considering the fact that Martin comes from a family of lawyers.

The specifics of this particular case remain unclear, but it has brought to the fore the little-discussed topic of dressing-room — or locker-room in American terminology — conduct between teammates.

A professional sports team is a strange environment, unlike anything you would encounter in the ‘normal’ world.

By its very nature, it is an extremely competitive environment, opening its doors only to people who possess exceptional talent and the mental commitment to make the most of their physical gifts.

Succeeding in sport requires a large degree of single-mindedness, the ability to overcome setbacks, public criticism and defeats, self-belief in your capabilities even (especially) in bad times and a ruthless competitive streak to stare down and overcome challenging opponents.

In that context, then, it’s clear that a pretty heavy dose of selfishness is a prerequisite for any professional athlete — it would be almost impossible to succeed without it.

However, any team game also self-evidently demands working as a group, being prepared to sacrifice personal glory for the greater good of the team and a general ability to get along with other people even if you wouldn’t count them among your friends.

The precarious balance — unspoken yet universally understood — between selfishness and selflessness is an awkward one to achieve and maintain, and manifests itself most obviously with a shield of relentless forced bonhomie.

I have seen first-hand how English professional football team dressing rooms (and I’m sure all sports teams all over the world are exactly the same) instantly judge players on their “banter”: never mind how well they perform on the field, equally important is how well they can contribute to the continual verbal jousting — often vulgar, aggressive and distasteful — that forms an integral part of day-to-day existence in the “world within a world” of professional sport.

Being able to give a joke and, more importantly, knowing how to accept being the victim of one — however unpleasant it might be — is essential. From the youngest novice to the most experienced international star, nobody is exempt. The youngsters, naturally, are forced to endure the majority of the teasing, but they also earn instant respect from their elder peers if they reveal themselves to be capable of dishing out “banter” as well as being on the receiving end.

One of the most interesting contributions to the Incognito/Martin saga came from Ricky Williams, a former Miami player who knows a thing or two about the uneasy alliance between testosterone-driven aggression and selfless teamsmanship after deciding to walk away from the sport in the prime of his career because he no longer felt comfortable in the professional sports environment.

“How is bullying something that’s even mentioned regarding the NFL?” Williams said. “Because that’s what we’re taught to do — bully the guy across from us so we can win.

“What we’re subjected to on a day-to-day basis, most people will never be able to understand. What we’re required to do physically, mentally and emotionally is astronomical. There’s no room to play the victim or to be bullied. If you’re having that discussion, it just means that maybe you don’t belong in the NFL.”

By saying this, Williams, like Miami’s players who came out in support of Incognito, explicitly criticises Martin for failing to “get” the established locker room mentality. I would suggest he is right.

Society has rules; sport has its own rules, and they are very different. In no other context would it be acceptable for colleagues to abuse each other verbally and physically in the way that professional sportsman routinely do every day; but in no other context, either, would it be acceptable for Jonathan Martin to use excessive violence to physically block the path of another human being as he does whenever he conducts his profession as an offensive linesman in the NFL.

Pointedly, Williams added: “It’s not fair and it’s not right for people on the outside to judge and try to figure out what’s going on the inside, because most of the people on the outside wouldn’t last a week on an NFL team.”

He’s right. Professional sport is a world within itself; normal society’s rules do not apply, because it is not like normal society.

* This is the personal opinion of the columnist.