A strange evening ends well for Australia

The world moves in mysterious ways sometimes. Thus it proved in the lead up to, and in the first morning of, the 4th Ashes Test at Headingly.

At about the same time as Dave was taking his seat at Yorkshire's home ground and texting me news of team selections, an innocent drink in the office after work was taking a very different course. I watched the power of the Ashes change the course of an evening in the twinkling of an eye.

Conversation around the improvised bar table had turned to the upcoming 4th test. All knew that the game started in a matter of minutes and each passing moment only increased the excitement. Something had to give and finally it did.

A bat and ball was found and a fairly competitive game erupted in the corridor, much to the befuddlement of the conscientious who were working late. Different people took turns batting and bowling, with varying degrees of success. It was with some confidence that I strode to the wicket / space between the desks, late in the game with every intention of impressing all with my skill with the willow.

I took the bat, re-read the signatures of everyone who had ever worked in the team, got my hands comfortable around the handle and tapped it a few times for good measure. I was ready. This was going to be fun.

I looked up and stared down the other end of the pitch and saw a rampant Anil Kumble clone marking out a fresh run. I also noticed that the pitch was around 4 metres long, the lighting was poor and I was struggling to focus after gulping down 6 or 7 half warm Blue Tongues. To make matters worse, I was constantly being accosted by a close in fielder in the shape of an office plant. More to the point, the plant was actually rubbing against my face. The confidence leaked from me. Anil charged in. I was worried.

The first one flew past and probably uprooted off stump (if stumps were present at all which thankfully they weren't). I didn't see it. The second smashed into my imaginary leg stump and again I was around 2 seconds late on it. I complained about the lighting. The crowd roared. The plant fielding at silly point hit my nose. Anil moved his marker back another couple of paces.

I picked the third one up but missed it as it went harmlessly down the legside. I pretended I had left it. It didn't wash. I went to pull the 4th one but hit a desk instead; an opportunity missed. I mentioned the lighting again but didn't seem to convince anyone. I am sure the plant at silly point sledged me. Without Anil noticing, I moved backwards about 6 metres to give myself more time. It didn't matter. The next one actually swung away from me and missed the stumps, which was lucky considering I missed it as well. The last ball of the over yorked me and as the now swollen crowd jeered and mocked, I held my batting pose for about 10 seconds and considered what to do. In the face of such defeat, I decided that scurrying away like a cockroach with insect spray on it was undoubtedly the best course of action.

I announced that it wasn't fair that I take up all the batting time and offered to give someone else a go, ever the gentleman. I re-took my chair and listened to various pieces of analysis on my form, the consensus appearing to be that it was "awful". I was mystified. Could it be that contributing to a Blog about Test cricket didn't actually make you ready to play in one yourself ? Surely not, but the evidence was compelling.

I watched Anil bowl a few slow full tosses to the new batsman and decided it was best if I took my leave and went home to consider some technique tweaks that could be implemented to improve my post beer batting effectiveness. I already had one idea in mind.

A most unusual end to the week.

But it was about to get even stranger ...

Even in retirement Anil Kumble proved difficult to counter, especially under office lighting, 6 beers down and on a 4 metre pitch

I was sitting on the top deck of the train home, demolishing my post game McDonalds mountain when I heard some new passengers got on. "Strange" I thought, no one usually gets on this close to my stop.

I half listened to footsteps and the sounds of people taking their seats on the lower deck, my mind still on the riddle of Anil Kumble. Just as my thoughts were turning to the unfolding 4th Test, two very attractive 18 year old ladies walked up the steps to the top deck, sat down two seats in front of me and begun passionately, and very publicly, kissing.

Kissing

Ladies

Anil Kumble

Pete Siddle

Ladies

Kissing

As interested as I was in Dave's text message Test commentary, I am man enough to admit that I allowed myself to forget the cricket for a little while. My mind was almost completely devoid of all cricketing thought for the roughly 5 minutes that this gratuitous , and completely free, display took place. As quickly as it begun it finished, and the ladies quietly stood up and went back downstairs, where I presume they took their seats and resumed reading a Jane Austen novel.

I was about as surprised as Nathan Hauritz after he was told he would be in the Ashes touring party (as a player). Yes, that surprised.

At some point during my introspective, stunned silence, I noticed that we were arriving at my stop. I made my way to the door where I met the young ladies in question again; with their boyfriends. Ironically, one of the boyfriends (who appeared about 14 but probably, hopefully, wasn't) actually made a relatively crude comment to the effect that the girls should "get together". Both the ladies, and me frankly, smiled knowingly but subtly.

All 5 of us got off the train together, a curious little group. I hung back to give the kids a little bit of space. This proved a good move as both the boyfriends all of a sudden started whacking each other and it was all I could do to side step them as they wrestled each other to the ground and threw haymakers. As the boys fought, I noticed the girls had started holding hands and greatly increased their walking pace. As they were by themselves on a lonely train station, I thought it best if I kept a watchful eye on them and followed (it was in the direction I needed to go anyway).

We had just finished climbing the stairs to exit the station, with me at a respectful distance, when one of the boyfriends ran past me and caught up with the girls. As I walked past them and headed home, I listened to Boyfriend 1, who had several rapidly emerging bruises on his face and very red knuckles, explain that

"Hey, like, we just got into a fight and that and Bobby is a little hurt back there man"

The girls seemed unsurprised and completely uninterested, the later not being particularly remarkable in retrospect. All three yelled out for Bobby but Bobby wasn't appearing. I kept walking and as they left my line of sight they were slowing descending the steps to scrape up the remains of Bobby. Interesting, the girls were no longer holding hands.

I feared for the future of the country as I realised all four could probably either vote or were just about to become eligible.

As I walked the few minutes home, it occurred to me why picking someone for the Test team at the age of 20, as in the case of Phillip Hughes, is such as risk. Poor Phil, one day he is delayed on the way to an all night XBox party by punching his best mate whilst his girlfriend kisses his mate's girlfriend and the next he is in London with the Australia cricket team and Andrew Symonds is trying to make him drink beers with him in the middle of the day during television coverage of Rugby League. It is a clash of the generations that is simply never going to end well.

A strange night had just got a little bit odd. At least my indoor batting display was a now distant memory.

*************************

If Office cricket and teenage lesbians using public transport wasn't amazing enough, imagine my surprise when I found out that finally, a month and a half after you read it here first, the Stanford's Lap endorsed Australian bowling line up of Johnson, Siddle, Hilfenhaus and Clark finally got its first run of the series. And surprise, bloody surprise, they ran riot and with Australia 94 ahead at the end of the first day, have tipped the Test well and truly in favour of Ponting's men.

I was particularly pleased for Stuart Clark as I was becoming increasingly worried that he would burst into tears in an interview at some point, so desperate he seemed to play a Test. I understand trying to give the South African line up a go at Cardiff but the minute Johnson sprayed one down leg side, I would have kicked him straight out the door and brought in Clark. Clark is a reassuring figure that inspires confidence. He takes wickets as well as ties up an end. He makes the entire team bowl better.

On the personal front, it was great to see Siddle finally get a bag. Ever since I first wrote "Most wickets for Australia: Peter Siddle. Unheralded I know, but will really come of age in this series", Peter has basically done everything he can to prove me to be a total and utter buffoon. I am glad he has finally come to his senses, got his mongrel back and starting hitting his straps. I confess to being a little alarmed at his mentor though: Darren Pattinson. I am not sure that this is in his long term interests.

On the English batting front, it was a temporary return to the very bad old days of loose shots and soft dismissals. Bopara in particular looks lost and out of his depth at 3. England need to do something about this. A few soft hundreds against lowly West Indies does not a Test number 3 make.

The trend continued when it was Australia's turn to bat. Despite my urgings, England have gone back to Harmison and to the surprise of no one but seemingly the ever persistent English selectors, he has let them down again (after previously letting them down again and again and before that again, again and again). England please, for your own sanity, give up on this bloke. He is never, ever, in a million years going to be the player he should be. I know he should, you know he should and God only knows Steve probably bloody knows he should but he won't; not now, not ever. As I have said before, he is your Symonds, your lost cause, your frustratingly almost but not quite man. At least we finally had the gumption to give up on ours. Come on, give up on yours as well. You know it makes sense. What's wrong with Sidebottom (apart from a still humorous name) ?

Australia batted well with Watson shining once again. I am starting to warm to him actually. I still say it is crazy to open with him and he is not a long term solution but you can't argue with three 50s on the trot; much better than backing away for 15 minute minutes and slicing a 12 through the slips. Maybe he will tide us over until we find a real Opener. I can't help but be impressed by his public slagging of underpant merchant come Bollywood singer, Brett Lee's readiness to play in this Test and ammused, but slightly apalled, by his readiness to give advice to the boy he replaced in the team, Phillip Hughes. Come on Shane, you have played 10 Tests in 7 years, don't get ahead of yourself. All that aside, he has batted calmly and purposefully and done very well.

Ponting was sublime yet again but got a bit booed when he walked out to bat. I think we need to get over ourselves a little here. A bit of boing is bad sportsmanship and totally lacking in grace and class but hardly the end of the world. I remember one tour of Australia when ever time Richard Hadlee appeared, the entire ground started chanting "Hadlee's a Wanker". Like Ponting he was an all time great and like Ponting he ignored it all and performed to his usual level anyway (actually I think we made him mad and he did even better than usual that year). If we stop talking about the booing it is probably all going to disappear rather quickly. Remember, great players don't get put off by this silliness, they get inspired by it. We stopped sledging Brian Lara for a reason remember. The minority of English supporters would do well to learn this lesson.

So, advantage Australia and with no rain, you would expect them to win from here within 4 days. However with the forecast for the 4th and 5th days being wet, we are in a race against time to get a result at all. Nothing will ever match 2005 but this series has contained just about everything so far. It is fantastic to see evenly matched sides playing interesting 5 day cricket. I would still like to see Australia win the series though but am happy for it to stay close !

Despite the somewhat premature celebrations, Stuart Clark bowled well on the first morning of the 4th Test and deserved to feel vindicated in his previous claims for selection

Whilst talking about strange things, if proof was needed that the world really has gone stark, raving mad, then look no further than to singer Lily Allen admitting to a crush on Graham Onions.

Stop the world. I want to get off