[Cricket, with the Lord of Byron]
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The carnival is over and cowardly attacks on supermodels have replaced the Ashes on the front pages, but still life must go on. It may seem as if it was all a dream, but England really were reunited with the long lost Ashes in a series that seemed to hover on the edge of reality. For despite their heroic performances, faithlessness regarding the true quality of this England team remained till the final day. A truly great side regularly fights back in adversity and once again, England’s heart was successfully weighed against the feather of truth. |  |
In a series riddled with wondrous moments, those provided by Shane ‘Juan’ Warne and Andrew ‘Freddie’ Flintoff will live on the longest. The magnanimous and statesmanlike Warne, who often seemed to be the only functioning Australian on the park, captured an astounding forty wickets. He also showed significant intestinal fortitude with the mind and the bat, though he did fumble a few at slip. Alas for Australia, the laws of cricket prevented him from bowling at both ends.
Calls for Warne to replace Ponting as captain are very unlikely to be heeded though. Possessors of atypical personalities have to be particularly good to simply be tolerated in team pursuits, and even Warne’s brilliance will not be enough.
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Strapping all-rounder Freddie, who is also a strong drinker and chess-player, repeatedly bulldozed the Australians, who succumbed like a giant teapot. Like Warne, Flintoff shuns the sportsman’s traditional ‘healthy’ lifestyle and has disported himself in legendary antics with female fans, though he is now happily married. It is sincerely hoped that these role models have a firm impact on the children of tomorrow. |
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Permanent Revolution
Inevitably, the main area England were unable to match Australia was spin, and Warne’s counterpart Ashley ‘The King of Spain’ Giles is painfully conscious of this. As he puts it: “People suspect I have kidnapped an English version of Warne and kept him under the stairs. There is no English Warne, and if there was, he would not be locked up in the cupboard under my stairs.”
| There is already talk of a successor. The mysterious wizard of spin, Kim Jong-il who, according to press releases, shot eleven holes-in-one in his first game of golf and never forgets a line of computer code, is in secret talks with agents. It is hoped he will be eligible to play for England when the Australians next return to England. Slack-jawed onlookers are bewitched by his permanent revolutions. |  |
Bush Week
Once the final Test had been saved and the umpires had performed the throat lump inducing final ceremonial removal of the bails, Bush Week was declared open and a blind eye was temporarily turned to zero tolerance and the war on pleasure. The celebrated party ensued and a quarter of a million revellers made merry cheering the living gods through Trafalgar Square. The parade ended with a reception at Downing Street where pineapple juice was proffered. Objections were raised and eventually a trickle of warm white wine was grudgingly provided from the PM’s personal collection.
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Earth to Earth
In addition to the quality drama, there was high comedy. Who can forget the crucial run out of Australian captain Ricky Ponting? A huge international audience watched with open-mouthed glee as ‘contentious’ supersub Gary Pratt threw down the stumps from side-on and Ponting exploded into a tantrum. Chips were spat all the way to the dressing-room. It was the first time Pratt had hit the stumps all summer. England coach and evil mastermind, Duncan Fletcher, against whom much of the bile was directed, gazed on impassively, as is his way. In a strange coincidence, Zimbabwe born Fletcher has finally been granted UK citizenship after 14 years of trying.
It is felt that Fletcher generally outthought his Australian counterpart John ‘Flanders’ Buchanan, part of whose strategy was an attempt to expand his side’s vocabulary. ‘Gallimaufry’, ‘maelstrom’ and ‘nefarious’ were offered for study, but are not believed to have been used in Ponting’s tirade. Like any self-respecting sporting supremo, Buchanan is an advocate of Sun Tzu’s Art of War and will be pondering the early advice: ‘The general who heeds my counsel is sure to win.’
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Dead Hand
England are now off to Pakistan in November, where they will encounter a brand new player: Mohammad Yousuf. Previously known as Yousuf Youhana, the talented batsman has recently converted to Islam. The PCB has angrily denied that any pressure was placed on him by current players, though it is believed that his chances of captaining the side in the future have increased in line with the team’s public displays of religious devotion. His parents are reportedly ropeable.
Of course, chaps have the right to believe as many impossible things before the break of fast as they wish, but the ICC must be careful lest all this mumbo-jumbo brings the game into disrepute. One only has to remember the unpleasantness of Jonty Rhodes and Hansie Cronje and the distasteful influence overenthusiastic religion has had on the odd Australian. The memory of the sight of a hand being waved over the head and torso upon the reaching a milestone still makes one shudder. At the risk of infidelity, one must suggest that it is preferable when cricketers are not public slaves to the dead hands of gods. Thankfully, true deities such as Flintoff and Warne are not prone to such antics and generally godless England is again a power in the cricketing world.
Meanwhile, in India, new coach Greg Chappell is in very public dispute with fragile captain Saurav Ganguly. The traditional effigy burning rituals are in full swing.
The Lord of Byron advises that this article is recommended for an immature audience.