"Watching Ricky Ponting disrespecting the privilege of being Australia's cricket captain is one of the great sadnesses" © Getty Images

A few years ago, one of Australia's richest businessmen, Richard Pratt, was fined $36 million in the Federal Court for price fixing. Another Pratt, Gary, substitute fielder for England in 2005 ran out Ricky Ponting at Edgbaston. Yesterday at the MCG, Ponting was fined about $5000 for behaving (again) like a complete pratt.

Like Pratt, Captain of Industry, Ponting, Captain of Australia must view the regulators (in this case the ICC) with disdain and contempt. Thirty six million dollars to a billionaire must just seem like the cost of doing business, minor embarrassment aside. Five thousand dollars to a millionaire, who holds the highest sporting office in the country, and whose behaviour is watched by millions of young kids throughout the Christmas holiday period, is nothing short of a joke. All Ponting needs to do is to ask his sponsors to run a few extra advertisements for the wholesome and pure vitamins that he endorses and he can pay the fine with petty cash from the till. And the ICC really think that this will stop him from being a naughty boy again? There you go Ricky - 40% of your match payment for a serial offender and that'll learn you!

Watching Ponting bat is one of the great pleasures in life. Watching him disrespecting the privilege of being Australia's cricket captain is one of the great sadnesses. During the tea break yesterday, we were treated to archival footage from the Richie Benaud-Bill Lawry era when the honour of being the Australian captain was clearly much more than just winning cricket matches at any cost. It provided a stark reminder of just how much has changed in the modern game. One cannot even begin to imagine Benaud arguing and pointing his finger at an umpire. Even great statesmen are allowed the odd aberration but I'm afraid Ponting's general demeanour is totally unbecoming for someone who needs to understand that as a captain, as a role model, as an ambassador, as someone who kids idolise, it is "unacceptable" (according to Ranjan Madugalle, fearless dispenser of justice with a wet lettuce leaf).

It's all about perception. As captain, Ponting must surely know that. He is the leader and he is the man whom the cameras inevitably follow in moments of drama and triumph. That is the great privilege of being a leader - understanding that you will be the target of extra scrutiny and you will therefore be held to higher standards than anybody else. With that burden also comes great rewards. You are offered lucrative endorsements from various companies who want you, the leader, the brand ambassador, the 'hero' that kids look up to, to promote their product. You are given a platform to use your sponsors (who presumably pay you quite handsomely) to spruik your charitable foundations whilst other charities rarely get airplay for their equally good deeds. You are asked to be at the front and centre of Cricket Australia's marketing campaigns to promote their main sponsors, much of those aimed at young children, or the advertisements for the Ponting Foundation which saw him surrounded by adoring youngsters as he hit a cricket ball out of the stadium.

Being a role-model is not a part-time gig, not when your face intrudes into living rooms for six hours every day during the school holidays, selling messages about immune defences and the purity of vitamin supplements. This summer, my sons have seen more of Ponting in the ad breaks than with bat in hand. To many young kids like them, they are too naive to differentiate between a quality cricketer and human qualities. It is for that very reason sports stars are paid big dollars to endorse products - because the intention is to motivate 'buyer behaviour' based on our respect/admiration/idolisation of that individual. Celebrities rail at the use of the word 'role-model' but it's just another word to describe endorsement. You are effectively role-modelling a car, a phone company, a vitamin, a charity based on your immense popularity with the target audience. And it's no point pretending that young kids especially don't get sucked in by this role modelling because if they didn't, companies wouldn't use sports stars to endorse products. Australian cricket captains enjoy a special place in this 'space' and it is a privilege that one presumes comes with a big pay cheque. Mark Taylor and Steve Waugh are regulars on our TV screens, advertising air conditioners, investment banks and scotch whiskies. One gets the impression that these two gentlemen, and Allan Border before them, appreciate the honour that remains with them long after the runs have stopped flowing.

Case in point; I went to my local supermarket at lunchtime yesterday to buy various things I needed for an upcoming trip to South Africa with my seven-year-old son. When it came to buying personal items like insect repellents, sunscreen and vitamins, my son was adamant that we should purchase "Ponting's stuff" because it clearly must be the best product for top performance. Despite it being more expensive than some other options, I indulged him because of his love for cricket and the fact that it was a health product rather than something more insidious (like the beer ads that are also promoted by the team). We had barely got back in the car to rush back home to watch the cricket when we heard the radio commentary of the incident and the universal condemnation of Ponting's behaviour by all commentators, Australian and English alike. We went back into the shopping centre, watched the replay on a TV screen and it looked so unbecoming that my son suggested, of his own volition, that we return the products for a full refund (which saved me a few bob too, good on him!).

For those who think I'm being a bit harsh on poor old Ricky, consider these incidents dating back to his last five Test matches. In Perth, when the Matt Prior-Peter Siddle feud was simmering, the camera panned to Ponting whose lips were curled in a snarl as he sent Prior on his way. Not a good look. In Brisbane, when he claimed a low catch off Alastair Cook, he was distinctly unhappy when the umpires referred it to the video replay and it proved inconclusive. His sulky demeanour for some time afterwards ... not a good look. In Mohali in October, having been run out by Suresh Raina when he was cruising towards another century, he reacted to an alleged comment by Zaheer Khan and engaged in another unseemly altercation. Not a good look. And these are just his last five Tests. From the captain no less.

What made yesterday's childish performance even more galling was that his ire was directed at entirely the wrong people. This is what happens when personal frustrations bubble to the surface and someone as unsuited to the diplomatic demands of captaincy, leaving aside his obvious strategic inadequacies, cannot handle the responsibilities that come with being the unflappable sort of leaders that Benaud, Taylor and Waugh were for example. Even during his terrible form slump in 1997, Taylor's dignity and poise spoke volumes for his understanding of the totality of the role that is expected of a captain. It is more, so much more, than reading pitches, setting fields and rotating bowlers. That's the easy part.

Remonstrating with the Aleem Dar and Tony Hill was the sign of a man for whom the descending red mist clouded all sense of judgement. Dar referred the decision to the third umpire, the replays showed nothing and that should have been the end of the matter. A few head shakes perhaps to let all of us in our lounge rooms know that he was disappointed but get on with the game captain. Did he honestly think that Dar was going to reverse his decision after the third umpire had already ruled in favour of the batsman? If his anger and disappointment clouded his judgement to that extent, I maintain that his personality is essentially unsuited to the pressures of the job.

The clinching moment was when he then turned his attentions towards Kevin Pietersen. What on earth was all that about? Surely he wasn't suggesting that Pietersen should have 'walked'? From the same man who unashamedly plays cricket The Australian Way, where you never walk until the umpire gives you out, let alone when the umpire has said "not out"! From the same man who gloved one down leg side in Perth just last week and (totally justifiably) stood his ground until the third umpire confirmed his demise?

The ridiculousness of the whole incident and the ICC's complete inability to create a system that has any real teeth, despite endless rhetoric about the Spirit of Cricket, can be summed up by this quote from Madugalle: "He apologised for his action and stated that he has nothing but respect for the umpires and his on-field actions were not intended to show disrespect to Aleem Dar or Tony Hill."

With respect, nothing could be further from the truth than 'respect' in this instance. If he had nothing but respect for the umpires, what was all the fuss about? Yes, defenders of Ponting will revert back to his greatness as a batsman as a defence of his actions. His team-mates will be as loyal as ever in their love for the man and that sort of loyalty is an admirable trait in Australian cricketers. Yes, they will point to mitigating circumstances around his poor form and the Ashes slipping away, put it down to frustration and the notion that he is under stress. If that's his problem, I can vaguely recall an advertisement for a vitamin product to fix his immune defences! High quality batsman that he is, he will probably peel off a match-saving double century and attribute it to the motivation that came from this incident. What's more, there will be some money left over from the Man of the Match award to pay his measly fine too. That's simply the cost of doing business for a Pratt.

Ian Bell is the successor to Michael Vaughan as the premier exponent of classically elegant batting. © Getty Images

Dear Santa,

I hope I've been good rather than bad and nice rather than naughty this year, and that you will therefore look kindly on my Christmas wish.

What I want is a series of five-day cricket matches between my team and yours. Obviously there will be some difficulty fitting it into the international calendar, so what I suggest is that you simply give the World Cup to India and then we can have the matches when that bloated waste of time was scheduled. In South Asia if you like, but only if you can find a couple of pitches there that will assist the pace bowlers: there needs to be a decent variety of conditions for the five-match rubber.

My team is a pretty good one, though by no means unbeatable. The basic criterion for selection has been that I really enjoy watching these players, and I hope you'll enter into the spirit of it by picking players who are at least interesting if not necessarily as attractive as mine. So that means no Bangladeshi pace bowlers or Australian slow bowlers, and above all it means no Jacques Kallis because even thinking about him makes me yawn.

My first opener is Tamim Iqbal because his Lord's hundred was the most enjoyable innings I saw all year. He paid no respect to the solemnity of a Lord's Test match and simply went out there and had fun, which annoyed the England fielders no end. And a good thing too.

Partnering him will be Chris Gayle. The way he uncoils to launch the ball over the boundary reminds me of a bear swatting away buzzing insects which are disrupting his attempts to get on with some serious sleeping. Admittedly the middle of a cricket pitch isn't a very sensible place to try and have a good kip, but then I'm not going to try arguing with a bear, especially not a grumpy one.

Since we're liable to be 36 for 2 by the end of the fourth over as often as we reach 180 for 0 by lunch, we'll probably need a bit of rebuilding. At number three will therefore be Rahul Dravid, the calmest of today's defensive batsmen. Where most defenders make it obvious that the bowling is dangerous, Dravid plays his forward defensive and looks down the pitch slightly puzzled, as if wondering why they are making things so easy.

At number four comes the captain, Mahela Jayawardene. He has to captain because he is one of those, like Graham Gooch, who is transformed by captaincy from a pretty good batsman into a world-beater – he averaged 67 during his stint leading Sri Lanka. He can play the long rearguard innings when required, but it's really for his twinkling feet and jewel-precise stroke-making when in the ascendant that I'm picking him.

The most compelling of today's batsmen is Kevin Pietersen, who will slot in at five. Watching him fills me less with pleasure than with awe, but no other Test player astonishes more often with the audacity of his hitting; although the shots are quite deliberate, you weren't expecting him to hit that ball in that direction.

The only thing missing from Fidel Edwards' aggressive approach to the crease is smoke coming out of his ears © Getty Images

My current favourite batsman comes in at six. Over the last year, Ian Bell has shown that he doesn't lack bottle and that he can score hundreds even if no one else does, thus nullifying the two major criticisms previously levelled at him. To me, he is the successor to Michael Vaughan as the premier exponent of classically elegant batting. He has the strength to give the ball a good, solid clout but relies far more on pinpoint timing and excellent placement to keep the runs flowing like champagne at a tycoon's party.

I was going to be really stuck for a keeper until a few days ago, since I don't think a great deal of any of the current crop of international stumpers, and Kamran Akmal is offensively bad. But then Mark Boucher demonstrated his trick of running people out with his back to the wicket and earned himself a spot in this XI.

Graeme Swann will be the main spinner, because of his attitude. He is an attacking spinner rather than one who relies on boring batsmen out, and he has an engaging personality. He knows that playing a game as a job is inherently ridiculous and refuses to take it too seriously – until there's a batsman standing thirty yards away as he starts his run-up. And just as it was once thought that legspin was destined to become a type of fairly useless bowling practiced only by weird Asians until Shane Warne proved the opposite, so Swann is doing his bit to show that conventional finger spin is not obsolete and can be fairly tricky on any wicket, not just a dustbowl.

Dale Steyn is the obvious choice to lead the pace attack. He is in the line of fast bowlers stretching back through Michael Holding, Dennis Lillee and Fred Trueman, with a controlled run-up which seems to expend little excess energy and a beautifully clean action unleashing highly accurate lightning bolts.

First change will be Fidel Edwards. His run-up is anything but economical, being a full-tilt charge, the only thing really missing being smoke being blown out of his nostrils before the explosion at the end. What gets down to the batsman isn't quite as frightening as the run-up might suggest, but he's still a pretty lively customer.

He won't be opening with Steyn because Chris Martin does swing the new ball a little. I've always felt that Martin is slightly underrated as a bowler; not that he's an unsung genius, but he's a cut above the average hack and a worthy Test match competitor. However, I will admit that what gets him into the side is his batting. Though you know in your heart that he is more than likely to add to his large collection of ducks, there is an exquisite suspense in waiting for the inevitable.

So that's my preferred playing XI. Obviously for a five-match rubber I'll need to have a squad, but you can have first pick of the rest. I'll just say that if you don't want them, my backups would be Graeme Smith, Andrew Strauss or Gautam Gambhir as openers, Younis Khan, Michael Clarke or Jesse Ryder for the middle order, Suleiman Benn as backup spinner and Jimmy Anderson and Ryan Harris as reserve pace men.

Santa, I realise that this is a pretty tall order and you probably won't be able to deliver. But could you (or some of my readers) at least say who you would pick as the opposition so I can at least fantasise about the games?

Best wishes,

Michael

James Anderson's pathetic efforts to sledge out Aussie batsmen were laughable © Getty Images

When the Different Strokes blog was initially launched a few years ago, the brief was simple: provide perspectives from your corner of the globe; not propaganda or jingoism but opinions and views on cricket. From Yorkshire to New York to Pakistan to Brisbane, that's been our mission, raising eyebrows, drawing ire, copping flak but always trying to do justice to the original mission statement of representing issues from differing perspectives. Different strokes for different folks indeed - it's amazing how a single issue can be dissected and digested in entirely different ways, depending on perspective.

The current Ashes series, riveting in its roller-coaster ride, is grist for the mill in terms of opinions and generalisations. Over the last few days, knowing that I write for ESPNcricinfo and knowing that I have played cricket in England and India, many of my Australian friends have posed some very interesting questions that were devoid of any malice but suggested that global stereotyping is still alive and well in cricket conversations. Here are a few of those questions and my opinion on them (remembering that the entire point of the blog is to represent a different perspective rather than resolve any factual argument).

Question: In relation to the latest rumours about the MCG pitch being switched to suit the Aussie pace attack, are the Poms a bunch of whiners?

My response: As a defining national trait, I have never encountered any signs of whingeing in the UK over the many years I spent there, studying and playing cricket. Truly wonderful people, I rate the Brits as amongst the wittiest and most self-deprecating people I've ever met, more than prepared to laugh at their own sporting failures. I put that down to many years of practice! Seriously though, whilst the tabloid press has a tendency to feed that stereotype with cheap headlines and cricket writers who hail from villages that are missing their resident Idiot, the average Brit cricket fan is probably looking at the MCG pitch thing as a complete non-issue. They realise that it is perfectly OK for home teams to prepare pitches to suit their own strengths, if that is indeed the case here. Mind you, there were some Australians who whined like Qantas jet engines when the Oval pitch was dry and dusty in 2009 but they soon shut up when I remind them that Australia chose not to play Nathan Hauritz in that game.

If the MCG pitch has been changed to suit the Aussie quicks, what's the problem with that? England should have the skills and personnel to cope with that. If they don't adjust, they don't deserve to retain the Ashes. Simple as that. Likewise, when Australia tours India, Pakistan or Sri Lanka, there's a reasonable chance that spin might play a significant role in determining the outcome. Is that still not Test cricket? Of course it is. In years gone by, we prepared turning pitches at the SCG in a desperate bid to derail the West Indian juggernaut of the 1980s. Allan Border spun them out for goodness sake! I can't recall hearing the West Indians moaning about that pitch.

And all the talk of Perth's excessive bounce is a bit exaggerated anyway. Most of the key English wickets fell to the swinging ball, not throat-high bouncers that were spooned to leg gully. Yes, the bowlers may have pushed the batsmen back and then caught them on the crease with full-pitched swinging deliveries but if that's not good Test cricket, what is? I haven't (yet) heard Strauss or the intelligent British press afford this issue any more currency than it deserves. For good cricketers, Perth is not the Australian fortress that some journalists make it out to be. In recent years, India and South Africa have beaten them at this venue. If they want to replicate those conditions in Melbourne, England should be prepared to play better cricket or surrender the Ashes. I don't think we'll hear much whingeing if they get thrashed again because I don't think it's in England's nature to make excuses for poor performances. Both Andy's (Strauss and Flower) are men of substance and would not hide behind such poor excuses.

England seemed to get a lot more "in your face" in Perth. Was that likely to work against this Australian team?

Yes, I noticed that too and it struck me as an incredibly stupid thing to do, if in fact it was an orchestrated tactic rather than the aberrant behaviour of a few individuals. Why was it stupid? Well, to begin with, Aussies rarely get adversely affected by sledging. They get sledged by the midwife at birth and at every point afterwards all the way through the system, through club and Sheffield Shield ranks. I have rarely come across too many good Australian cricketers who play poorly as a result of being sledged. If anything, it tends to lift them. So why England would adopt this as a team strategy (and I'm not saying they necessarily did) when all the momentum was with them after Adelaide? Why risk waking the slumbering beast? I can understand this tactic being employed if England were trailing in the series and clutching at straws to try and change momentum but watching Jimmy Anderson's pathetic efforts to out-sledge the Aussies just made me laugh. Why not just concentrate on swinging the ball and leave the trash-talking to those who think that such behaviours define 'real men'?

Likewise, if it is true that Kevin Pietersen targeted Mitchell Johnson when he came out to bat in the first innings, the question remains: why oh why would you be that stupid? Here is a man who's lost his radar, not scoring any runs and on the verge of being over-analysed to death. Why give him any reason to turn that poor form around? Again, I can understand if Johnson was bowling the house down and Pietersen was looking for something.... anything.... to distract him. But this was a man whose form was so poor that he was walking the plank, facing inner demons and national ridicule. Where was the downside to being sledged? Even allowing for the fact that Pietersen is not the sharpest tool in the shed, you'd think someone else in his team would have told him to shut up.

On that theme, does this tense, almost fractious, atmosphere define Test cricket and the hard men who thrive under the verbal pressure?

Does it bollocks!!! In my opinion, the best Test cricket is defined by bloody good cricketers who execute their physical and mental skills to the nth degree and emerge from that contest with pride and dignity. Witness Mike Hussey. Witness Sachin Tendulkar. Witness Dale Steyn. Too many commentators (and ex-players) eulogised some of the childish antics in Perth by suggesting that this was needed to motivate players to raise their games to the next level. What? Is playing for your country in a Test Match not enough to motivate you? Do you need to be needled in order for national pride to swell in your breast? And childish it was too if the Prior/Siddle altercation is truly to be believed; that one of them suggested they settle their differences at the back of the grandstand after the day's play. How bloody ridiculous! Seriously, was that ever likely to happen, Prior and Siddle squaring off behind the Lillee Marsh Stand whilst the public were streaming out of the ground at 6 pm? If either player actually admits to this, he should be shamed for the coward he is because there is nothing courageous about an empty threat. It's like a poodle yapping ferociously at the passing Alsation whilst sitting in its owner's lap. Good on you boys - real men you clearly are NOT if that tale is true.

The whole sledging thing in Perth is just cowardice dressed up as bad manners. Some argue that it takes a bit of sledging to fire them up and that brings out the best in them. In that case, how come Brian Lara and Sachin Tendulkar rarely get sledged? I've rarely seen Rahul Dravid cop much either. Surely any bowler would need an extra 10% to bowl out these great players so why not sledge them and fire up the internal neurons? How come Malcolm Marshall or Curtly Ambrose were left well alone? From my experience of observing sledging, it generally tends to be frustration, poor manners or a calculated ploy targeting a perceived weak character. And that's a sign of manhood? Test cricket is much more noble than that and the truly great men who define it, Tendulkar for example, have the dignity and grace to look down with contempt at those who seek to cheapen it with uncouth behaviour.

Robert Mugabe, controversial figure though he may be, has this quote attributed to him, endearing me ever so slightly to the man: "cricket civilises people and creates good gentlemen". Different strokes indeed.....

Allan Border fought superbly but India could have still won it © Getty Images

India have never beaten Australia in Australia. They’ve won Tests but have never managed to win a series. This history is made possible by two spectacular instances of snatching draws from the jaws of victory. Nothing showcases this better than the Boxing Day Test of the 1985-86 series, the fifth day of which shall forever live in infamy. The post-traumatic stress induced by this Test match still gives me the midnight chills.

A brief introduction to Exhibit Numero Dos in my rogues gallery of Great Indian Misses. It was the second Test of the three-Test series, to be followed by the endlessly prolonged shenanigans of the triangular world cricket series (featuring New Zealand as well). The first Test in Adelaide, which featured a carrying-the-bat epic by Sunil Gavaskar, had ended in a draw. When the second Test began, India immediately seized the advantage by reducing Australia to 210-8 on the first day. When the second day's play ended, India looked set for a sizeable lead, thanks to their 187-3, a patient response to Australia's eventual 262 all out. The next day, things got better, even if a little slowly, as India moved to 431-9 (my memory fails me as I do not remember whether rain cost any playing time on the first four days). The Indian middle order of Amarnath, Vengsarkar, Azhar, and Shastri all crawled a bit, but still by close of the third day, a 169-run lead was on the board.

The next day, India were bowled out for 445, giving them a lead of 183. By close of play, they had reduced Australia to 228-8. Allan Border was on 98 not out, playing a familiar role. Incredibly, Australia were only 45 runs ahead with two wickets in hand as the fifth day's play began.

Like any faithful Test fan, I awoke early in the morning to catch the radio commentary. Test wins in Australia were rare; I wanted to be listening in when this happened. The commentators on the radio briefly mentioned impending rain in the afternoon, but I paid little heed to it. The post-lunch session seemed far away. India would have this wrapped up by then.

A few minutes later, Australia were nine down for 231 as Bruce Reid fell to Shivlal Yadav. I snuggled a little tighter into my blanket on that cold Delhi morning, and turned up the radio just a bit. It was still dark outside. My uncle, similarly snug in his own blanket in that cold room, grinned at me. We were faithful fans; we had worked hard for this; victory would be sweet.

I did say Reid was dismissed, didn't I? Not Border? Right. Because from there on, Border and Dave Gilbert proceeded to add 77 runs for the 10th wicket. Not only did Border expertly farm the strike (while letting Gilbert play himself in gradually), he often did so by scoring three runs off the last ball. A single or a three both let you retain strike off the last ball; the latter has the added advantage of moving the scoreboard along just a little quicker. These runs were gold, and every single one of them contributed to the steady lengthening of icicles down my spine.

And that was because the radio commentators were constantly reminding us of the forecast of rain for the afternoon. As Australia's lead grew, as they pushed off the moment of reckoning, they crept closer to the safety of the rain (it promised to be the kind of torrential summer downpour that Melbourne is capable of putting on).

Finally, Border was dismissed for 163; Gilbert remained not out on 13 off 65 deliveries. India needed 126 to win. They had ample time. If it didn't rain. But they knew the rain was coming. They would get perhaps 20, perhaps 30 overs. But we were the world champions of one-day cricket. And, we had won the 1985 VCA Cup in Australia in fine style as well. Our openers included Kris Srikkanth, the hero, along with Ravi Shastri, who was also featured in that batting line-up, of that win. Surely we could put on a chase, with one eye on the clock and the clouds and pull this off. A win in Australia deserved nothing less than an elevation of the adrenaline levels of the batsmen, even if the bowlers had suddenly gone toothless in the morning.

But incredibly, in the most bizarre exhibition of Test-match batting that it has been my misfortune to listen to, India dawdled. Like narcoleptics, the Indian top order decided it was time for a nap. Gavaskar scored 8 off 54; Amarnath 3 off 27; Vengsarkar 1 off 12; in comparison, Srikkanth went berserk scoring 38 off 61. And all the while, the commentators steadily informed us of the impending rain. I stared at my radio set in disbelief. Was this really happening? What was the Indian team doing? Were they mad? In utter disgust, my uncle stormed out to go get a haircut. I slumped down, panicking, wondering if there was some deeper strategy being pursued by the batsmen in the middle that I hadn't divined. But none seemed apparent.

Finally, the rain came. India, chasing 126 to win, were 59-2 off 25 overs. The rest of the day's play was washed out. The game was over. Close, but no cigar.

India could have taken a 1-0 lead, and given the state of the Sydney pitch in those days and the lack of bite in the Aussie bowling (revealed by the run-fest in the next game, which again, India came close to winning) India could have had their first series win in Australia.

Twenty-four years on, I haven't forgotten this Test. Nothing summed up pusillanimous cricket like this did. If there are times my criticism of the lack of enterprise of Indian cricketing teams (and their captains) is harsh, I suspect it’s because I think the memory of this fiasco lurks in my subconscious. Its memory will take some erasing.

Sunil Gavaskar could have been the author of the greatest Test innings ever © Getty Images

Of all the Test matches that India has let slip from its grasp in its cricketing history, three rankle me in particular. As India start a 13-month schedule of Test cricket, which could cement their standing as No. 1 and turn them into undisputed world champions, they might want to think about how three matches that should have been wins turned into draws. Hopefully, India won’t make the mistakes they made in these three games if they want to be world champions, not just in terms of rankings but also in terms of perception.

Exhibit Numero Uno in this rogues' gallery is the Oval test of 1979, the fourth test of the series with England, arranged to take place after India’s disastrous outing in the 1979 World Cup. India had lost the first test by an innings, saved the second after being bowled out for 96 on the first day, and weathered an Ian Botham-storm bravely in the rain-ruined third. Things didn’t improve much in the fourth. India conceded a 102-run first innings lead, and on the fourth day, with plenty of time left in the match, found themselves chasing 438 to win.

Incredibly enough, thanks to the innings of lifetime from Sunil Gavaskar, which aided and abetted a 213-run opening stand with Chetan Chauhan, and a 153-run second wicket partnership with Dilip Vengsarkar, India were, at one stage, 366-1. India had begun the twenty mandatory overs at 328-1, needing five and a half runs over to win. Run chases at that pace were not common back then, and required the raising of a team’s game.

India, however, stumbled badly, going from 366-1 to 429-8 before time ran out. Indeed, a loss looked possible at one stage. The promotion of Kapil Dev to No.4 failed (a promotion that Gavaskar disagreed with as he felt Gundappa Viswanath would have done better by just picking up singles and keeping things moving), while for England Ian Botham did his bit by picking up 3 for 17 and effecting a run-out, and India collectively lost the plot.

There are many ways to not be excessively critical of India: it was always going to take them a long time to switch from thinking about saving the game to winning it (India batted for 150 overs in their second innings); it was a miracle that they even came that close to winning despite their record in the series; and so on.

But it is worth remembering what India missed out on: the greatest run-chase of all time would have been achieved in England, in front of an English press. Would there be any doubt that Gavaskar’s innings would have been reckoned the greatest of all time had India won? The anointment would have been swift and its displacement would have taken some doing. I mention the venue and the audience deliberately because there is no doubting who controlled the cricketing world's information order, the influence on which is as much part of a champion's responsibility as the actual performance on a field.

India had the stage set for them: the right venue, the right moment, had all come together. They failed to rise the occasion, whatever the reason. The Oval test of 1979 was deemed a “brave fightback”, a “glorious draw” and all of the usual platitudes that India seemed to specialize in back then: brave losers and brave fighters. Not winners. In saying this, I’m not being excessively harsh; India did suffer from a loss of tactical and psychological nerve back in September 1979, one that ensured the greatest of cricketing glories slipped away from their grasp. It was the symptom of a fundamental problem, one which would manifest itself in Exhibit Numero Dos. But that’s a story for the next post.

Eknath Solkar had his own victory against Geoff Boycott © Getty Images

A few weeks ago, I read a little story by Eknath Solkar about the time he made Geoff Boycott his bunny on the 1971 tour. As I read the piece a line caught my eye:

In the second innings of the first Test at Old Trafford, I was fielding at forward short leg when he tried to flick Abid Ali away. I stopped the ball instinctively and challenged him to run, wagging my finger at him as I spoke. He was taken aback. In the very next over, I got him to edge one and Farokh Engineer took a wonderful diving catch, almost at first slip.

It was certainly the first time I’d read of any such interaction between Solkar and Boycott, though I knew about Boycott’s difficulties against Solkar’s amiable seamers.

Equally interesting was the reaction of the readers to the story. To a man, no one seemed to have picked up on what Solkar had told us: he sledged Boycott, he “mentally disintegrated” him, he dismissed him using, as part of his repertoire of tricks, the very same strategy a segment of the cricket world would find offensive today. Wagging fingers at a batsman, chatting with him, challenging him to run? Sounds like “mental disintegration” to me. An Indian doing this, in the Golden Age of Gentlemanly Cricket (for this is how most Indian fans regard their cricketers and that period) should seem shocking. But it isn’t and it shouldn’t be.

For to read stories of cricket matches of yesteryears is to be reminded again and again, that cricket matches have always featured chatter in the middle, that grown men, when thrown into close competitive proximity, will often find ways to express a variety of emotions, not all of which would meet the approval of Miss Manners.

When I read Ray Robinson’s On Top Down Under (on which I wrote a glowing review in these pages, I was struck by how many chapters featured reports of banter, edgy verbal interactions, and the like, all taking place out in the middle on the hallowed 22 yards, right from the moment Test cricket began, back in 1877. Sure, those are Australians we are talking about. But Solkar’s story reminds us that even our pure-as-driven-snow Indians weren’t above a little badmaashi when it suited them.

But imagine for a second that the Test at Old Trafford had been covered by a modern television production team, perhaps Channel 9, or Sky, featuring eagle-eyed commentators. Then how would it have gone? The Solkar-Boycott interaction would not have gone unnoticed. Had it not been directly visible, we would have been directed to it, by a replay, perhaps in slow-motion as well, with ample opportunity to try and read lips:

Things are getting a little testy out there. During the last over, Solkar and Boycott had a little run-in. Here’s Solkar, running up to Boycott, and oh boy, he’s sure got a lot to say, doesn’ he? And Boycott’s not looking too happy. These Indians are never short of a word out in the middle. And, let’s look at it again, here comes Solkar, running up, and he’s making a gesture, and Boycott’s giving him a bit of a look too. Pretty tense stuff, the battle is definitely heating up.

And so on. You get the picture.

Yes, indeed, things are a little testy out there. But I’ve yet to find an encounter between adults that is even slightly competitive (corporate meetings or faculty meetings, for instance), that don’t get a bit testy. They just aren’t telecast live with every single run-in replayed endlessly in slow-motion, all the while accompanied by inane commentary, all part of an entertainment package put together for us. How entertaining would our daily encounters be, I wonder, if packaged similarly?

"Whatever else happens during these Ashes, Adelaide will provide a cherished reminiscence for years, even decades to come" © Getty Images

Adelaide was a wonderful victory. It is very rare for England to dominate a match so totally from beginning to end, playing so well as a team, and making so few mistakes.

The last occasion I can remember was against Sri Lanka at Edgbaston in 2002. However, in that game England had major help from the weather. Batting conditions were horrible when Nasser Hussain put Sri Lanka in, and Andy Caddick put in one of his rare, top-quality first-innings spells to skittle the visitors for 162. The weather improved greatly thereafter, and England posted over 500 with the sun on their backs, facing a Murali who bowled 64 overs despite having been unwilling to play because of a very sore left shoulder. This was before he had perfected his doosra and was easy meat for left-handers such as Marcus Trescothick and Graham Thorpe, who both scored superb hundreds; Thorpe getting there with the aid of Matthew Hoggard, who scored 17 out of a last wicket partnership of 91 before going on to take a five-for in the second innings as the Lankans subsided.

But to find anything similar, I think you have to go back 25 years to two matches in 1985.

The first was in January at Chennai. There must have been something in the pitch or the atmosphere because England captain David Gower inserted India, who were quickly undone by some splendid swing bowling from Neil Foster. When England batted, Tim Robinson departed for 74 before Graeme Fowler and Mike Gatting became the first pair of English batsmen to make double-centuries in the same innings to allow Gower to declare at 652 for 7. Foster then removed Gavaskar, Srikkanth and Vengsarkar with 22 on the board, before Mohinder Amarnath and Mohammad Azharuddin put on 190. It was Azhar's second Test and he went on to become the only batsman, till date, to score a hundred in his first three Tests, after he made a hundred in the next Test in Kanpur. England had to bat again and lost Fowler for 2 on their way to 35 for 1 and a win by nine wickets.

The other was against Australia at Edgbaston, where Gower once again decided to field first. When Allan Border and Kepler Wessels had made good progress to reach 189 for 2, it looked to have backfired, but then Richard Ellison stepped in and took three wickets in rapid succession as Australia slid to 218 for 7. The tail now wagged effectively to reach a decent-looking total of 335, which still looked good when Graham Gooch went for 19. But then came one of the most enjoyable stands in England's history. Tim Robinson did the donkey-work, making 148 at a merely respectable tempo while David Gower played the most glorious innings of his career. He still had his golden curly hair then, and it shone in the sun as he reeled off effortless hooks, drives, cuts and glides. It was how Adonis would have batted. Mike Gatting provided the belligerent coda to power England up to almost 600 for 5, following which Richard Ellison was again the main destroyer as Australia lost by an innings.

Adelaide combines elements of both of those: India were on the ropes quickly at Chennai, but there neither Fowler nor Gatting played the kind of masterpiece innings that Gower and Pietersen produced. Gower at his elegant best was more to my taste than KP's imperious domination, so I wish I could award the palm for best victory to Edgbaston, but I can't.

Whereas at both Chennai and Edgbaston, England's chief bowler in both innings was a paceman, Adelaide had Anderson leading the attack in the first innings and Swann spinning England to victory in the second. Thus Strauss's win was a more complete allround performance than either of Gower's games in 1985, and must be accounted England's most impressive victory for at least a generation.

Whatever else happens during these Ashes, Adelaide will provide a cherished reminiscence for years, even decades to come. England could not have found a more perfect way to erase the horrors of four years ago.

The use of the UDRS as a strategic tool, rather than as a means to avert umpiring howlers, is unacceptable © Getty Images

It's clear from the first two Ashes Tests that the UDRS is still a long way from being perfect. Common sense will tell you that it was probably first conceived with the intention of eliminating the absolute 'howlers' but as the concept has been refined and debated, mindful of time-wasting issues, it has now morphed into something that is being used as a strategic weapon. Meanwhile, the really poor decisions still go under the radar, as we saw with Rohit Sharma last night, because it's not even compulsory around the world. It is indeed a curious workplace environment where some cricketers may lose (or save) their careers depending on whether they're involved in a game that includes the use of the UDRS whilse their colleagues in another country play to a different set of rules. It seems ridiculous that for a universal game administered by a global body, there is such inconsistency over such an important facet.

One can't blame captains for using the system, as it currently stands, as a strategic entitlement. It's no longer something you only use to overturn a blatantly wrong decision, but it has now become a calculated 'Powerplay' that should be used with great caution, perhaps to break up a valuable partnership or to stem the rot of a collapse or to try and get rid of the gun batsman if there's a s50/50 chance that the decision might just go your way. Clearly, umpires are getting a few of them wrong, mainly the tight calls, so unless it's going to be used for all decisions, we still risk having a system that is fundamentally flawed just because a team has already used up it's quota on those marginal calls.

The players themselves can take some of the blame for this. Michael Clarke, perhaps through abject disappointment or the act of a drowning man clutching at a serpent, saw a glimmer of hope when the umpire missed a blatant inside edge and forced England to refer a short-leg catch that was obvious for everybody to see. Well, obvious to everybody except the man in the best position - the umpire! Now, let me state upfront that I have no issue whatsoever with Clarke (or any other cricketer from any country) standing their ground and waiting for the umpire's decision if they are also prepared to abrogate ALL decision-making responsibilities to the umpire. It's when we have this "duality of morality" (as I call it) that major problems emerge and tensions can flare.

Let's consider the last two Tests in Brisbane and Adelaide; Australia (Ricky Ponting) claims a low catch off Alastair Cook on the 5th day at the Gabba. His indignant response to the decision being referred to the 3rd umpire might be understandable if Australia (in this example) were always prepared to play the game on the basis of 'player honesty'. But, as Clarke proved a few days later in Adelaide, that honour code is totally dispensable when you snick the ball, either to the wicketkeeper, short leg, silly mid-off etc. It's almost as if a catch when you’re batting has a totally different moral obligation, to a catch you claim as a fielder. Why is that? I simply don't see why there is such a difference in ethics. If you knew you nicked it, why is that fundamentally different to claiming a catch that bounced before you caught it?

Likewise, wicketkeepers are prone to appealing vociferously for a catch that they knew missed the edge of the bat, but are bound by some sort of moral code that apparently can be relied upon to kick in if the nick doesn't quite carry to them. Fielders will appeal for an lbw that clearly got an inside edge. Sometimes the initial appeal is instinctive but you know a fraction of a second later that the batsman smashed it, but I have yet to see a batsman being called back if after an umpire gives him out lbw. Again, I have no issue with accepting the umpire's verdict, good or bad, because you know that over a lifetime, things even themselves out. For that argument to hold true though, cricketers who subscribe to that theory need to accept the umpire's decision on all verdicts. Insisting that you are so honest that you'd never claim a bump ball whilst happily admitting that you would appeal for a dismissal that you knew was not out or stand your ground when you knew you nicked one to the keeper just doesn't make sense.

The other issue about the challenge system with the UDRS is that it needs to be cognisant of the fact that umpires are human too. It's human nature to make decisions in the context of what has happened before, even if that is only a subconscious reflex in the back of your mind. With those 50/50 calls, would an umpire not be influenced slightly (perhaps not even as a conscious decision) by which team has more challenges up their sleeve? For example, if the fielding team has already used up two unsuccessful appeals, is there a possibility that the next appeal might go in favour of the fielding team because the umpire knows that the batting team can still exercise their right to challenge that tight decision? Knowing it's a marginal call, the umpire might sensibly be inclined towards leaning the way of the team who haven't got any challenges left, knowing that the other team still has the capacity to appeal the decision and therefore the correct decision still remains a possibility. In pure probability terms, if he follows this instinctive logic, he still leaves the door open for the correct decision to be made because the team with the challenge still up their sleeve can exercise that option.

Perhaps umpires never actually pre-empt that sort of decision but as human beings, it must surely figure somewhere in their subconscious. Another possibility is that they might be a tiny bit peeved that Team A has actually questioned two decisions in the past (and got it wrong) so this resentment might just be bubbling under the surface and even when a decision is probably 70/30 in favour of Team A, the umpire is inclined to rule the other way and that might be the really bad decision that the UDRS was set up to safeguard against. For instance, Michael Hussey's lbw off James Anderson at the Gabba that went undetected because England had used up their challenges earlier in the game. They were a bit over-ambitious and got a few earlier calls slightly wrong including Clarke's caught behind that they are still adamant was out despite Hot Spot being inconclusive) but by missing the Hussey lbw on that third morning, the system failed a crucial test due to a strategic error rather than the imperative to get it right. Is that really why the UDRS was implemented?

The bottom line is that the UDRS is still an imperfect answer to a problem that will never go away until all players can agree on a universal code of morality. Either leave every decision to the umpire and cut out the self-righteous indignation or start truly playing according to one's conscience and giving yourself up when you know the truth. Of course there are times when players genuinely do not know when they've nicked one or grassed a low catch so the safer option might be to simply shut up and leave it all to the umpires, taking the rough and the smooth with good grace. For their part, the ICC needs to dispense with the shambolic pretence of caring about time-wasting and allow umpires to call for technological assistance whenever they wish. Clearly, the players have no intention of bowling 90 overs in a standard six-hour day so what does it matter if we lose a few more minutes to ensure we get the correct decision every time? Or take the game back to a bygone era where character was shaped by accepting the verdict with a rueful smile and a quick walk back to the pavilion, instead of the open-mouthed astonishment, and the constant shaking of the head to let everyone know that poor little Diddums has been hard done by. It's funny how they manage to keep their emotions perfectly in place when they dodge a bullet.

And when you make a goose of yourself like Clarke did the other evening, full marks for the apology and the plausible explanation but for goodness sake, don't hide behind Twitter!

With a double-hundred in Adelaide, Kevin Pietersen has put his form woes well behind him © Getty Images

For the dedicated fan back home in England, an Ashes series Down Under is always somewhat disorienting. Those of us with conventional day-jobs tend to have to choose whether to miss the beginning or the end of the day's play, so one always wakes up wondering what happened while one was in the land of Nod.

And since the third morning at the Gabba, what one has woken up to, has been so surprising that it's hard to believe one is not still dreaming. After all, we know what to expect for a series in Australia: the Aussies will bat forever and take wickets for fun; whenever England look as though they might be getting their act together and competing, something disastrous happens and it's back to the depressing old routine. What we are seeing conforms to the correct pattern – except that the hapless team with the wheels coming off are wearing baggy green caps, which is surely the stuff of either fantasy or the ravings of the mentally imbalanced.

More fantastic about this illusion is the list of England heroes. Kevin Pietersen and Alastair Cook spent the English summer making sure we knew they were horribly out of form and are really only in the side because the selectors can't think of anyone better, and it's a well-known fact that Jimmy Anderson is hopelessly ineffective unless he has a Duke ball in his hand and low clouds overhead to make it hoop around. Yet Cook and KP have notched double-hundreds and Jimmy's been the most consistently dangerous bowler on either team.

Even stranger is the Australian bowling attack. They did not do particularly well in England in 2009 or 2010 (against Pakistan), but the explanation given on both occasions was that they weren't all that well-equipped for English swinging conditions; since they were used to taking wickets with Kookaburras on hard wickets, things would certainly be different when they got back to home territory. Inured as we are to the dangers of underestimating Australian bowlers of whom we have seen little, that seemed the sensible view to take. Of course they wouldn't be as potent as Glenn McGrath and Shane Warne – that would be a bit much to expect even for the legendary Aussies – but they would surely be threatening on their own grounds with their own crowds. That they could be just about completely toothless was inconceivable but at their present rate, they will struggle to take twenty wickets in the series, let alone a match.

Which is why I have found it so difficult to write anything about this series so far. Using the head for logical analysis leads one to the conclusion that England's good balanced attack, in-form batsmen and excellent fielding makes them considerably superior to an Australian outfit who are doing their best to live down to the tag applied to Mike Gatting's team 25 years ago, with the exception that Mike Hussey and Brad Haddin can obviously bat. But the heart rebels against such ludicrous over-confidence against Australia in Australia, and the fingers won't hit the keyboard if you try to write sentences like “England are now clear favourites not only to retain the Ashes, but administer a comprehensive drubbing” as though you actually mean them.

Unbelievable. Utterly unbelievable. Surely this is far too good to be true. Perhaps there was something extra in that Lem-Sip I was taking for my cold a week ago.

But while this lasts, I'm enjoying this dream, hallucination or whatever it is.

Natural talents like Shane Warne don't need academies for their genuis to shine © Getty Images

For a proud and successful sporting country, there's a national debate going on in Australia right now that almost resembles a post-mortem of sorts. Football fans are crying foul over FIFA's decision to apparently "snub" Australia's bid to host the World Cup in 2022 and sadly, though not entirely surprisingly, there's the usual talk of corruption, broken promises, lack of transparency etc. Jingoism even pushes some to claim that Australia should have been awarded the World Cup because we are "the greatest country in the world", one of the most pointless and meaningless clichés ever invented. All nations resort to these ridiculous statements in times of national crisis (or triumph) which only goes to prove that they are indeed...ridiculous!

Like the football, our cricket fortunes too are increasingly attracting comment from every man and his dog, most of the commentary focusing on the disappointments currently being experienced in The Ashes. I must confess that I'm not one of those people who feel any great sense of shame, disappointment or surprise. It's sport. Simple as that. The very nature of sport is that there must be a winner and a loser and there's no shame in occasionally being at the wrong end of that equation. If you only want to win, then play with yourself! Australians have a word that describes this singular activity perfectly but I'm not sure why they keep referring to "bankers"!!! Must be something to do with the GFC I suppose.

Speaking of money, if Australia's football bosses can't accept FIFA's decision with good grace, knowing full well that it was a competitive bid process, then don't waste $45 million dollars of taxpayers’ money on a process that does not have a guaranteed outcome. Talk of corruption, transparency, broken promises etc just smacks of sour grapes. No one can pretend that none of this was known before yesterday's decision, yet if we had won the bid, we would presumably have been delighted to host a World Cup that was administered by these same folk. Likewise with the cricket - we've enjoyed more than a decade at the top of world and when the inevitable change happens, as has always been the case, we're now in a state of national mourning, trying to find scapegoats where none exist. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. Where is the shame in that?

The Australian cricket team is just going through a bit of a slow patch. We've seen half a dozen 'greats' retire in the last few years so surely it's no great surprise that a period of relative mediocrity might follow. By coincidence, luck, good planning (or all of the above), England have a team that is maturing at the perfect time is playing bloody good cricket. We might not like it but we can still respect them without ripping ourselves to shreds in the process. Qatar may not be everyone's favourite holiday destination but is that really a reason to cast aspersions on their weather, population and anti-drinking laws just because they beat us to the World Cup in 2022? We expected every other nation to celebrate with us when we won the rights to host the Sydney Olympics, we've revelled in winning three consecutive cricket World Cups. I dare say we'd be mighty disappointed if the rest of the world questioned the integrity of our success. That's why I'm not one of those wringing their hands in despair as Kevin Pietersen just celebrated his double-century. It's just part of the cycle of life.

What I do question though is whether professional sport deserves the amount of public money that is poured into it, in the name of "national pride". I'd rather trade hospital beds, better roads, aged care homes and more police on the streets for any number of World Cups or gold medals. Especially for professional sports like cricket or football where the athletes get paid significantly more than nurses, social workers or teachers; these professions have a higher net worth to society than sports stars. Let athletes get paid whatever the 'free market economy" can afford but don't let taxpayer funds get mixed in with that lot.

Where am I going with this? Well, looking at the current Australian team, is there a case to question the public investment in entities like cricket academies? Why should the taxpayer fund the 'education' of a small subsection of the population who might go on to earn millions whereas other high-earning professions (medicine, law, dentistry, engineering etc) expect students to pay their way and then reap the dividends later in life? And don't give me the old 'national pride' thing because that doesn't feed the hungry, anywhere in the world.

Clearly, the success of a cricket team owes more to talent than the fine tuning that comes with the exorbitant public expense of funding cricket academies. Australia is living proof of that right now. Our Centre of Excellence (nee Cricket Academy) has been going for nigh on 25 years now and has never been more full-time than the last few years when it comes replete with a fairly significant bureaucracy and every type of coach, physiotherapist and performance analyst imaginable. Yet, as we're now seeing, the talent cycle is a much more significant factor than any intensive "manufacturing" process. You can't create a Shane Warne, Matthew Hayden or a Ricky Ponting. You can fine tune him, you can try to make him fitter and stronger but you can't create natural talent just by putting it through a factory. If it was that simple, why are we still unable to find another Warne, despite all of the current generation of spinners having been through the Centre of Excellence on numerous scholarships?

By some measures we can't even create fitter and healthier athletes, leaving aside the raw talent question. The modern bowler struggles to get through 90 overs in a full day's play, despite all the latest technological, medical, hydration and clothing aids. The rate of injuries has never been higher, despite the fact that they have an army of specialists who even monitor their choice of pyjamas! Anyone hear the Australian team physio speak on The Cricket Show on Channel 9 the other day? They even get the players to sleep in 'skins' to aid recovery but it still doesn't help them to bowl the required overs in the allotted time.

All the computer boffins and analysts can't help our bowlers to bowl the right lines. The pitch map in England's first innings in Adelaide resembled a pubescent boy's acne - angry little dots all over the place. You don't need complicated software to tell you what good old-fashioned common sense has known for a hundred years. When England passed the 500 mark, only 57 runs had been scored in the V, on a pitch that traditionally favours full-length bowling with short square boundaries. Was that really the length that the bowlers were asked to bowl or were they just unable to execute a basic skill, despite many years of high-tech coaching at the cricket academy? The inability of Test-standard bowlers to bowl one side of the wicket to Alastair Cook and Jonathan Trott in the first session on Saturday just underscored the point that Glenn McGrath was the legend that he was despite, not because of, his time at the cricket academy.

I'm not suggesting that such finishing schools have no place in sport. Of course they do. They play an important role in "finishing" off the product but at the end of the day, the natural cycles of talent and maturity will always play a more significant role than anything that can be bought with a million dollars of public funding, not when that money can be spent on more worthwhile things than making rich people even richer. I don't begrudge footballers and cricketers, their talents and riches, so long as they are happy to live and die in the "free market". Just ask the residents of Ireland and Greece or the millions who have lost their homes through the GFC - national sporting pride doesn't pay mortgages or hospital fees. And for that reason alone, I wish Qatar and England well this weekend. Enjoy the moment, bask in the glory and accept that it won't always be like this. Another Shane Warne will be born somewhere in the world and like the original one, he won't need to attend a cricket academy to allow his genius to shine. Copper is a valuable metal and you can refine it all you like but a gold nugget it will never be.