Commentary:

Tham Luang cave in Chiang Rai may be labyrinthine and pitch black but there is light at the end of the tunnel for the 12 boys who spent their 13th night there yesterday. In the inky darkness on Monday night, the under-16 footballers and their coach had huddled on a slippery rock ledge for a 10th day, trying to stay above the fastflowing water in the partially flooded cave to stay alive.

Finally, a light emerged from inside that very water. It was a torchlight from one of the two British volunteer rescue divers who had finally located them. Since then, rescuers have grappled with formulating an exit strategy for them as fears for their safety were triggered by forecasts of more heavy rain.

To be honest, I feel a bit worried about these 12 boys and their coach. My concerns are not about their health or personal safety inside the cave, as they are now in good hands.

Apart from the immediate media circus that will greet them, I’m afraid once they get out of the cave and recover physically they may be shocked at how many admirers and detractors they have attracted.

Certainly, their experience of surviving in a cave for so long with no food, power or light must have been dreadful, but what lies in store could be almost as nerve-racking.

Sooner or later they will have to face a throng of reporters — both local and international — seeking quotes and exclusives. The group will likely be asked the same questions ad infinitum from “How do you feel?” to “Why did you enter the cave?”

The cave rescue has been dramatised by the media, which has a knack for turning every crisis and misfortune into a melodrama.

The mission contains many elements that reporters — heck, even filmmakers — long to see in an unfolding narrative.

For some, it is full of nail-biting excitement, colourful characters and mystical elements including monks, spiritual gurus and local legends. One Thai legend has it that a former princess nursing a broken heart went into the cave to commit suicide.

And the drama is not confined to the rescue site. It permeates our daily conversations, online and offline.

Browsing social media platforms or overhearing conversations on the street, it is now fairly easy to hear people engaged in heated argument or mindnumbing talk about the “cave boys”.

One rumour doing the rounds is that the team were kidnapped by drug barons operating along the Thai-Myanmar border and later returned to the cave via a “secret door” or shaft. But why the boys failed to mention this to their rescuers, or suggested they all head back out using the same route is beyond me.

Alas ... these poor boys! Apart from the press corps, they must still face crowds of admirers and critics who see them, respectively, as heroes or naughty boys who should have known better than to ignore the warning signs and enter a flood-prone cave.

Many will hold the 25-year-old coach responsible. But others, including the boys’ parents, have sided with him and praised his character and devotion to his wards, both on and off the pitch.

Deputy permanent secretary for justice Tawatchai Thaikaew posted a message on social media yesterday also giving the poor coach his moral support, upon learning the man has been suffering from depression, guilt and anxiety.

Of course, well-wishers for the boys, who are aged 11-16, will not be in short supply. No doubt they will receive some donations and gifts. There will be hordes of “trophy hunting” individuals armed with smartphones and an insatiable appetite for selfies.

I wouldn’t be surprised to see them in a TV commercial at some point. Their faces and the name of their club, the Wild Boars, may be mined for their endorsement value. They may also get opportunities they never dreamed of. Two pro-football clubs in Bangkok have already offered to accept the boys to train alongside their U16 squads.

So, after praying for their safe return, I will pray for society to give them the privacy they deserve. But my biggest prayer is reserved for us as a society — that we keep “growing up” and acting ever more responsibly.

Perhaps we can learn something from the 12 boys. When they saw the British divers appear, they didn’t faint or scream like characters in a Thai soap. They were calm and polite. “I am happy,” said one boy. “See you tomorrow.”

These young boys have acted like grown-ups, but their supporters and detractors have not.