The Allan Border Medal is supposed to be the biggest individual honour in Australian cricket.

You would not have known it from the way Travis Head received it this year, or last year, for that matter. It has happened before, too.

During my playing days, the medal was once presented at a small event in Sydney, and it honestly did not feel the same.

Head became just the sixth player to win the medal in consecutive years, beating Alex Carey by one vote and Mitchell Starc by two. That should have been treated as a significant achievement.

Instead, the presentation looked more like a gathering at a local cricket club than Australian cricket’s night of nights.

There was no black-tie event, no television broadcast and none of the occasion we have traditionally associated with the award. It was a low-key presentation held in Brisbane before the Australian team left for Darwin.

That is not good enough.

During my playing career, the Allan Border Medal night was a genuine celebration of Australian cricket. It brought the men’s and women’s teams together and recognised performances across the different formats. More importantly, it allowed the players’ families to share in that recognition.

Families make plenty of sacrifices throughout a player’s career. They deal with the long periods away, the difficult tours, the injuries and the emotional ups and downs that come with professional sport. The awards night was one of the occasions when they could be beside you and enjoy the reward, to dress up and have a fun night together after a long Australian summer.

It meant something to the players because it was made to feel important.

The medal itself still means something, of course. That is because of the performances required to win it and because of the man whose name it carries. But if Cricket Australia continues presenting it as an afterthought, it risks slowly stripping away its prestige.

Allan Border did not just have an outstanding individual career. He led Australian cricket through one of its most difficult periods and helped build the standards that contributed to the success that followed. An award carrying his name deserves to be treated with respect.

It also diminished Head’s achievement. Winning one Allan Border Medal is difficult enough. Winning two in a row puts him alongside Ricky Ponting, Michael Clarke, Shane Watson and David Warner. That is elite company, yet the presentation did not match the scale of what he had achieved.

Scheduling has been offered as the reason for moving away from the traditional awards night. Australia’s international calendar is crowded, while franchise competitions pull players in different directions throughout the year.

That makes organising the night harder, but it does not make it impossible. CA manages complicated schedules, overseas tours, television commitments, and major commercial agreements. Surely it can find one night each year to properly celebrate the best Australian cricketers. Traditions should not be abandoned simply because they become inconvenient.

The AFL would not present the Brownlow Medal quietly at a training session. The NRL would not reduce the Dally M Medal to a casual function that was not broadcast. Those sports understand that presentation matters because it helps establish the importance of the honour.

Australian cricket should understand that too. This year’s event made the game look second-rate at a time when cricket is already fighting to maintain its position in a crowded sporting market. It sent the wrong message about the award, the winner and Australian cricket’s history.

Bring back the proper awards night. Put the players and their families in the room. Televise it, celebrate the season, and give the Allan Border Medal the standing it deserves.

If Australian cricket does not respect its own highest honour, it cannot expect everyone else to.