Saving up for a mad dash in the final overs isn't always recommended on Australian grounds © AFP

I'm no mathematician. Messrs Duckworth & Lewis clearly have brains vastly superior to mine. Until yesterday, I have largely agreed with their complex system of making a rain-affected target a fair outcome for both teams. Looking at it from a pure layman's perspective though, I cannot understand how India's target the other night at the MCG remained unchanged. Someone, educate me....please.

When the rain came, Australia were struggling at 2 for 35 off 11 overs. India had already benefited from their skill at this point of the game, taking two key wickets at roughly 3 runs-per-over. Australia then batted superbly to score at almost 9 an over, losing only three more wickets in the process. I would have thought (clearly mistakenly) that the brilliance of their post-rain innings would have resulted in a target that was more than the 216 they eventually posted. India had already taken two wickets, so by getting rid of David Warner and Ricky Ponting, they had effectively reduced Australia's firepower. Sadly for them, and great credit to Matthew Wade and the Hussey brothers, Australia were able to recover from this poor start and stage an impressive comeback. Where was the reward for that great recovery?

From a commonsense viewpoint, it seemed to me that India would need to have chased at least 10-15 runs more to compensate for the fact that they knew all along that it was only 32 overs. They could afford to play shots from the very outset because they didn't have to try to bat 50 overs, which is what Warner and Ponting thought they were doing at the start, hence the cautious approach (and some fine bowling from the Kumar duo).

In the end it didn't matter because India were realistically never in the hunt after they lost early wickets. It was the sort of chase that needed a Virender Sehwag or Yuvraj Singh presence. MS Dhoni may have been able to score at that pace but on a big Australian ground, it was always going to be tough to hit sixes at will. I was surprised at Dhoni's reticence to go for the big shot, I must confess. I know he favours the approach of getting within striking distance and then trying to win it in a mad dash but I don't think that works in Australia. The boundaries are too big and you generally won't get too many overs of spin bowled at you at the death. Pakistan batsmen love this approach and they're pretty good at it too but I think Dhoni is making a serious miscalculation by letting the run rate drift too high before launching his assault. He doesn't have the lower-order support to be able to do that over an extended target.

Perth might be one of the few grounds where you can hit sixes straight down the ground and score at 10 an over at the end of a game. Homebush in Sydney, where the first Twenty20 game was played last Wednesday has similar potential for a late flourish. But if India keep choosing to chase runs and adopt a strategy of waiting for the last five overs before they go ballistic, I don't think that strategy will work in this country. Even if Duckworth-Lewis doesn't hurt them in the way I expected it to on Sunday night.

Looking forward to your thoughts on whether Duckworth-Lewis got it right on this occasion.

George's Bailey's impish smile and twinkling eyes convey a sense of irreverence that befits the shortest form of the game © Getty Images

Some things are meant to be. Some leaders are born that way. The first time I met George Bailey, I had this premonition that he would one day captain Australia. And so it has come to pass.

Bailey will break a long tradition in Australian cricket, captaining his country on international debut. Apart from in the very first Test that Australia played in the late 19th century, has there has never been another cricketer who has made his international debut as skipper?

Lee Germon captained in his first Test for New Zealand, but he had played an ODI before that. Naturally, any country playing their first ever international match, or their first match after a hiatus, will have a captain making his debut, but for an established team, can anyone think of another debutant skipper?

To George Bailey then - what do we know of him? Decent cricketer of course, not in the best form of his life but that can soon change in Twenty20 cricket; an excellent fielder (who isn't these days amongst Australian batsmen?) and clearly rated as an astute tactician. Many cricketers could lay claim to these qualities of course so George has no absolute monopoly in this regard. What struck me when I first met him as a young man attending the Centre of Excellence in Brisbane were his standout leadership qualities. I had never seen him hit a cricket ball at this point but something about the easy manners and friendly nature of this young man just stood out.

Decent cricketer? Well, clearly he was at the Centre of Excellence so that much was assumed, but it was the decency of his character that really shone through within the first few minutes of making his acquaintance.

Make no mistake: the lad was a rascal and a larrikin but in the old-fashioned sense of the word. In my role as Head of College at the accommodation facility where the cricketers were housed, there was mischief aplenty and George Bailey was more often than not at the very heart of it. But it was harmless stuff and his disarming smile and cheerful honesty ensured that most minor escapades remained exactly that; nothing to warrant much more than a quiet word, a wink and a nod.

As a fellow resident of a university campus village of more than 900 residents, male and female, George was the first one to breach defences and make friendships across the cricketer/student divide. His popularity was genuine rather than sinister or contrived, equally at ease with other cricketers as with the university undergraduate who had no interest in cricket whatsoever. His ego did not need cricket to sustain it. Such things stick in my memory, watching the way he interacted with people from different backgrounds and cultures. His leadership stood out even then, acting as a bridge between two groups of 'students' who sometimes didn't quite understand each others' talents.

His character was such that on the rare occasion when more serious mischiefs had to be investigated, I felt utterly confident that there was no need to look in the direction of chaps like Bailey, Adam Voges and Callum Ferguson. Perhaps not coincidentally, these gentlemen have all had leadership credentials attributed to them. Some qualities are just evident at an early age and stay with a man all his life. I suspect that if Bailey was not a cricketer of some note, he would be a luminary in some other sphere of activity.

Twenty20 cricket is probably a good fit for Australia's newest captain. He is enough of a gentleman to do justice to the prestige of the role, and yet his impish smile and twinkling eyes convey a sense of irreverence that befits the shortest form of the game. He will acquit himself admirably overseas and show the world what a true blue Aussie is really like, charm and larrikin in one genuine package. I haven't seen much of the lad since those days at the Centre of Excellence but I daresay not much has changed. In another era, Rudyard Kipling's famous poem, If, may well have been written about a boy like this: a cricketer for the old-timers, captaining a format of the game that is all about the young 'uns. He'll walk that fine line with easy grace.

Australia won the Galle Test inside four days, yet the pitch was slammed © AFP

Let's get a few things straight before I make my point; unequivocally, Australia has clearly been the better team these last few weeks. In all aspects of the game, they have batted, bowled and fielded with superior skill. Michael Clarke has captained astutely, the coaching staff has prepared them superbly, they've handled the conditions much better than India and the selectors have also made the right calls. No excuses - just damn good cricket on all fronts.

Unlike most other sports, tennis and golf notwithstanding, one of the great charms about cricket is that it is played on surfaces that require different skills to master. The great players and teams have been able to succeed on whatever pitches they had to play on, even if they sometimes lost a crucial toss and had to cope with a green first-day seamer, a crumbling turner on days 4 & 5, a pitch that developed huge cracks or one that started to shoot through at ankle height. I don't subscribe to the view that there is necessarily such a thing as a "bad pitch" (so long as it is not dangerous). Both teams get to choose their final XI's before the game begins, they have a 50-50 chance of winning the toss and they have to then adapt, even thrive, in those conditions. It's the same for both teams.

This notion that there's something nasty and sinister about a "home" pitch is just rubbish. The home team is perfectly entitled to prepare a pitch that suits their agenda and it is up to the opposition to choose a suitable XI to combat those conditions. If they don't have the skills to adapt to those alien pitch characteristics, that's nobody else's fault but their own. That's the beauty of international cricket where we get to see a wide range of skills in vastly differing circumstances.

What I do think is laughable is this notion that only pitches that are hard and fast and true are "good" pitches. Who decided on that benchmark? I love watching the ball flying through throat height at the WACA, I love watching the medium pacers nipping it about at Headingley and I love a dusty turner in Mumbai. Watching any of the great players score runs on these pitches gives us mere mortals a glimpse of the versatility of their techniques and of their mental powers.

These last few Tests in Australia have clearly suited the home side. What's wrong with that? With a vastly less credentialed batting side and a similarly green bowling attack, Australia have played smarter cricket and executed the necessary skills with significantly more aplomb than the experienced Indian line-up. I have not heard any talk of it being doctored or unfair pitch. It's the sort of pitch that suited the Australians but they still needed to execute the skills to knock off a team with the sort of pedigree of the Indians. No excuses.

Likewise, the next time Australia has to play on a foreign pitch that may not suit their strengths, they still need to not only learn to cope and excel in these conditions, but also need to stop describing these pitches with loaded terms such as "doctored, poor, bad, home-advantage" etc. If it turns on the first day, that's no different from it continuing to bounce and seam on the fifth day. That's the beauty of cricket. I do not understand why any pitch that doesn't bounce or seam or carry through to the keeper is necessarily a poor one. Home teams are entitled to produce pitches that suit their strengths and it is upto the visitors to prepare adequately, make the right selections and then execute those skills. Australia did it against the West Indians in Sydney in the 1980s when they were clearly not going to compete with their fast bowling arsenal. Moderate spinners like Bob Holland, Murray Bennett and Allan Border filled their boots on these pitches and there was no talk of it being unfair. It was their only hope of beating the West Indians in that era. No excuses.

If we look at the recent Perth Test vs India - 701 runs scored, the game finished just after lunch on the third day and no one scored a century in the last innings. India could not score at even 3 runs-per-over, but the pitch was good enough for Australia to score at 4.83, with David Warner making more in one innings than India did in either of their two innings. Good pitch. No excuses.

Let's think back a few months to the first Test at Galle when Australia and Sri Lanka met. There was widespread criticism of the pitch but Australia still won the Test because they played better cricket. A total of 841 runs scored and it finished well into the fourth day. The pitch was good enough for Mahela Jayawardene to score a century in the last innings. No excuses.

A few years earlier, Australians were much aggrieved with the pitch at The Oval for the final Ashes Test of that series. A total 1213 runs were scored on that allegedly dreadful pitch at a run rate of over 3 per over, it went deep into the fourth day and Michael Hussey scored 121 in the last innings. No excuses? I remember hearing the bleating from 10, 000 miles away. If the pitch was that much of a dustbowl, why did they not select Nathan Hauritz? Whose fault was it that they went into it with a four-pronged pace attack, despite having Shane Watson in the team as an extra seamer.

I'm all for fast bouncy pitches in Australia when we face a team that is traditionally weak in that department. I'm all for spinning tracks when Australia face teams who are brim to overflowing with fast bowlers (West Indies in Sydney in the 1980s). I'm all for home teams preparing pitches that suit their strengths and opposition teams who have to learn to cope. But don't tell me that a pitch that only produced 701 runs and finished before the halfway mark is a good pitch because Australia happened to win whereas another pitch in another country where 1213 runs were scored and finished late on the fourth day with a superb Hussey century was a poor one. Good pitches come in all colours - they're not just good pitches because we win on them. No excuses.

He bats, he bowls, he catches ... and he does it all with proficiency © Getty Images

As someone who loves just about everything about South Africa, whenever the conversation turns to anything remotely resembling Africa, I'm all ears. I love the bushveld, the people who forge uncompromising and hard lives in that terrain and the attitude of the modern South Africans who have afforded me understated warmth and friendship. My experiences of its rainbow people make me far from a neutral in writing this article – let me state upfront that I'm one of South Africa's most vocal tourist ambassadors. So, loyalties declared, here's my thesis: is Jacques Kallis the King?

This piece was prompted by a conversation I had last night with some of my best mates, Australians all of them, skilled cricketers who have played at a very high level and not usually prone to handing out accolades lightly. It all started with the predictable conversation about whether the great Indian batsmen of the current era were past their prime or not, and it then morphed into equally predictable comparisons between Ricky Ponting, Sachin Tendulkar, Brian Lara, Rahul Dravid and Jacques Kallis. Being knowledgeable cricketers themselves, this debate, pleasantly interrupted by the peeling of giant prawns, was an intelligent and mature discussion, free from the usual jingoistic limitations that can sometimes spoil these moments.

All the great batsmen mentioned above are exactly that – no real argument as to their calibre. We added Kumar Sangakkara to that list, along with honourable mentions for the likes of Matthew Hayden, Mahela Jayawardene, Steve Waugh, Kevin Petersen and numerous others who are clearly fine players but just out of that exclusive bracket mentioned in the previous paragraph. When we tried to actually pick our most valuable player from among those batsmen, I was delighted to hear a strong consensus pushing for Kallis as the greatest of them all.

It's almost heresy to have this sort of debate and even mention anyone but Tendulkar as the top man. I'm a great admirer of the Little Master, on and off the field, so it's more a compliment to Kallis than a slight to Tendulkar that we even considered Kallis in the same breath. We just came to the conclusion that in all aspects of the game, Kallis is the most under-rated cricketer to have ever played the game.

The comparisons naturally turned to Sir Garfield Sobers. None of us could remember watching him play, so we were relying on legend and folklore passed down from our fathers. Again, a bit like Tendulkar, it is apparently a crime against cricket to compare any allrounder against Sobers but, fuelled by prawns and oysters, we were prepared to crunch the numbers. And we still stuck to our estimation that Kallis should be remembered amongst the top two or three cricketers to have ever played the game.

His batting average, over a long career, is as good as it gets, barring The Don of course. It is his all-round game though that puts his achievements into context. When you add 20000-odd international runs, 500-odd wickets and over 300 catches (most of them in the slips), you really get a sense of Kallis' mental strength. For most of his career, he has carried South Africa’s batting. Tendulkar has done it to some extent but he had some great allies all through his career, from Mohammad Azharuddin to Sourav Ganguly to Virender Sehwag, Dravid and VVS Laxman. Ponting's genius, too, is undisputed but most of his career has been alongside other prolific and dominant batsmen, as well as a bowling unit that frequently ensured he was playing from a position of strength. Make no mistake – Ponting's innings often set up those situations so it is not meant as a criticism, merely an acknowledgement of his era in the baggy green. Brian Lara was arguably the one who had to carry more than even Kallis' burden singlehandedly and his place among the cricketing gods is secure but crucially, he didn't bowl.

It's the bowling workload that clinched it for Kallis, in our opinions. Operating in the 135-140kph range for much of his career, concentrating hard at second slip in between and then batting at number three must have been an amazing burden on his mental and physical state. To his credit, he has rarely had an extended period out of the game through injury. His durability alone makes him worthy of the tag of "greatest cricketer of all time".

His detractors will point to a relatively low scoring-rate and the perception that he may not have changed the course of a game with a breathtaking assault on a bowling attack, in the way that Tendulkar, Lara and Ponting have. Fair point, but this was also a man who contributed with the ball. His impact on a game of cricket may have been more subtle but no less valuable only because it was a slow-burn fuse.

Comparing him to Sobers' Test record, the stats alone make it hard to split them apart. I could not determine Sobers' strike-rate but despite the romantic memories of yesteryear, I wonder if he scored much quicker than in the modern era. He would probably have scored quicker than Kallis' strike-rate of 45, but how much quicker? In terms of hundreds and fifties, Kallis has scored 96 in 150 Tests, at a rate close to 66%. In other words, he makes a score 50 or more in two out of three Tests that he plays in. Sobers has a similar rate, perhaps slightly lower. In 93 Tests, he got to 50 or more on 56 occasions. Not a whole lot separating them here.

On the bowling front, Kallis' strike-rate is significantly higher than Sobers, 68 compared to 91. Kallis is also a shade ahead on average: 32 versus 34. Their catching records are equally impressive, more than one catch per Test. So Kallis loses nothing in comparison on a purely statistical basis.

You could argue that Sobers played in an era when there was a lot less cricket played, therefore opposition teams were a lot fresher. Fair point but that argument works both ways. Sobers himself would have been less fatigued. You could argue that as a batsman, Sobers played in an era before the third umpire replays were in operation, therefore, if umpires honoured the tradition that benefit of the doubt goes to the batsman, he might have escaped the odd close decision that Kallis did not survive. The standard of fielding is generally accepted to be much higher in the modern game but that is probably balanced out by the smaller boundaries and better cricket bats that Kallis has enjoyed. You can reverse those arguments when talking about their bowling records.

A few hundred prawns the wiser, we moved on to more important topics like which one of us had behaved more disgracefully on past cricket tours and which one of us was the worst player among our group of friends. I won the latter category with some ease – there was no need to debate that one for too long. This was not so much about demoting any other cricketers’ achievements but to elevate Kallis to the highest possible plane, to recognise him as one of the very greatest cricketers to have ever played the game. For neutral Australian cricket fans to unequivocally endorse this fact, says it all really. For us, last night, Kallis was indeed king.

Plain silly © AFP

Watched Luke Wright bat in a Twenty20 game for Melbourne Stars yesterday. Watched Luke Wright score a very good hundred. Watched Luke Wright kiss his Melbourne Stars helmet. Thought "how ridiculous", switched the telly off and watched an African safari documentary instead. Watched an impala escape a lion's clutches and waited for celebration. Nothing happened. Impala went back to feeding.

Watching my two young sons, six and eight years old, playing cricket in the backyard and taking 'classic catches' in the swimming pool this morning. Mental note: must have quiet words to them about watching too much TV and excess celebration after every achievement. They hyper-celebrate every wicket, every catch and every boundary with actions that exactly mimic what they see from the big boys. Can't be having that in this household!

My earliest memories of on-field celebrations date back to the West Indies teams of the early 1980s when their high-fiving style set new standards in 'cool'. They did it with nonchalance and a certain calypso panache that just oozed with the sort of reggae rhythm that fitted in so perfectly with the way guys like Joel Garner, Michael Holding and Viv Richards moved. The high-five is now part of every cricket celebration at any level, even in backyard cricket, testament no doubt to the powerful legacy of cool that those West Indians left behind them. It has even found its way into other sports and into mainstream life where any achievement is heralded with the obligatory high-five. In an ironic way, it has devalued the gesture at the same time as it has elevated it to the ultimate compliment to those West Indians giants who were actually so smooth, so cool, so arrogant almost, without even trying too hard. It just seemed to come so naturally to them.

My next significant memory of the on-field celebration taking a giant leap forward was when Michael Slater kissed the coat-of-arms on his Australian helmet after scoring a rollicking hundred on his first Ashes Tour, at Lords I think. It was boyish, it was spontaneous, it came straight from the heart. As I watched Slater's career blossom and then wane, that gesture suited his personal brand. He was impulsive, dashing, batting on adrenalin and self-destructing in a similar vein.

Now just about everybody kisses their country's helmet after scoring a routine century regardless of context or value or pitch conditions. Wright has just taken it to ridiculously low heights by kissing the franchise badge. Honestly, he's only been with them a few weeks as a hired mercenary, he might play for a different franchise in another country next month and he'll keep kissing that new helmeted logo every time? It's just a job for goodness sake - imagine if we all walked out after a good day at the office and started kissing the corporate logo on the outside of the building!

Andrew Flintoff was able to carry off his 'messiah' pose when he had that amazing period a few years ago. Something about his physique and the way he played the game allowed him to pull it off when he made a crucial breakthrough that changed the course of an Ashes series perhaps. The pose lost its power to inspire as it went from being a spontaneous gesture to an orchestrated personal brand. Shahid Afridi just looks plain silly when he does it after every catch, every run-out and every chewed ball. Perhaps the very first time he did it was at a crucial point in a match when emotions were running high and his googly completely fooled a batsman and so changed the course of a game - most of us tend to love the unscripted drama of those sort of moments. Now that it has become a standard routine that he probably practices in the nets or in the mirror, the romance has gone I'm afraid. He just looks vain and self-centered.

Imran Tahir carries on in similar vein whenever he gets a wicket, even if it's a tail-ender. It devalues the moment when he actually takes a big wicket. Hashim Amla on the other hand is almost the opposite - his celebrations are muted and seem to come from a deep sense of inner-peace.

Fidel Edwards’ celebrations are clownish. From the aeroplane imitation to the Corey Collymore patented 'windscreen wiper' thing, they just look rehearsed and artificial. All the more ridiculous for someone like Collymore, nothing more than a handy medium-pacer by international standards, creating his own personal style of celebration. Malcom Marshall, Michael Holding, Curtley Ambrose - different story altogether but Corey Collymore?

Brett Lee's piledriver action or his airborne 'heel click' thing was good to watch the first few times or when it was an important breakthrough after a sustained piece of fast bowling. It looked cheap when he once went through the routine after a batsman was caught at long-off. Fortunately, age has mellowed him and he now seems to know when to perform.

Everyone, including Hussey, knew the rules of engagement before that match started © AFP

Here we go again - another Border Gavaskar Trophy on the line and it starts to get "tasty" after just one day. The Internet era merely serves to heighten the tensions because unlike the old-fashioned 'Letters to the Editor' which were usually written with more eloquence and vetted by editors, online blogs are much more raw and unfettered in both passion and vitriol. It's a classic Beauty and the Beast situation where we get to see what people are really thinking, protected by anonymity and distance, unhindered by rules about grammar and spelling, unafraid to vent opinions that range from sincere passion to patriotic fervour gone mad. I've seen some of that already this morning with reference to the DRS controversy. Some of it has been entertaining and illuminative whilst some of it has been just plain idiotic. That's the world wide web for you.

From what I've read this morning, it seems to me that some bloggers have just lost their sense of balance and perspective, blinded by their bias for or against the two countries involved. Here's my attempt to bring some common-sense and logic back to the debate, arguing from a neutral position of indifference as to who wins but with a strong desire to see the Indian and Australians fans not rip each other to pieces with emotive arguments that go beyond mere cricketing matters. Many incidents over the last few years have unnecessarily damaged relations between us, starting with the infamous Sydney Test when Harbajhan Singh and Andrew Symonds clashed and extending off the field to more serious incidents involving student bashings and loose talk on both sides of the Indian Ocean.

Let's start with the silly comments being bandied regarding the DRS not being used because it allows the Indians to cheat. It's not the ICC who are necessarily to blame, neither are the Indian cricketers themselves culpable. It was a decision agreed to at board level. Regardless of whether the BCCI has too much power or not, a topic for another debate altogether, the cricketers themselves are simply playing by the rules that were agreed before the series began. It's not like the Indian players suddenly introduced the playing condition when Michael Hussey walked out to bat. Everyone, including Hussey, knew the rules of engagement before that match started.

Umpires make mistakes. That happens. Disappointed as Hussey may have been, surely he is not suggesting that he has never benefited from similar decisions going in his favour, either as individual or as a team. The accidental fact that it was a first-ball duck when his career is on the line shouldn't change anything. I'm not even sure if Hussey is complaining too much, apart from that initial show of frustration for which a man of his calibre and disciplinary record can surely be forgiven. It's the irrational fools with short memories who are quick to start labelling the opposition players as cheats who are the real cheats in my opinion.

Short memories? Anyone remember when these teams last met during the New Year’s Test? Symonds smashed the cover off the ball and chose to stand his ground. He was simply playing by the rules and any Indian fan who called him a cheat should be similarly embarrassed today. Symonds' innings defined the course of that Test match but the bottom line is that he was simply playing by the rules of the day. He was no more or less of a cheat than anybody was yesterday (unless Symonds himself is one of those mystery bloggers hiding behind a ridiculous pseudonym, venting irrational spleen to fuel tension).

What about the Peter Siddle no-ball incident today when he castled Rahul Dravid? The replay reprieved Dravid, just like it did for Michael Clarke at the Gabba a few weeks ago. Dravid didn't ask for the replay - the umpire called for it himself because he was unsure, just like he did for Clarke who went on to score a big hundred. Both teams were aware that the umpires had this option available to them. It's not like Marais Erasmus made it up on the spot just to try and favour India. The only person at fault was Siddle for not keeping his foot behind the line.

Australian supporters are entitled to be disappointed with the Hussey dismissal yesterday but if you hail from a cricketing culture that has always played by the code where batsmen do not walk and leave all decisions to the umpires, surely you have to accept that you take the rough with the smooth. How does yesterday's chain of events make the Indians cheats? Does that also make the Aussies cheats when they nick one and don't walk?

I find it particularly amusing when Australian fans complain about genuine umpiring mistakes. As far back as I can recall, from junior cricket ranks upwards, our kids have been brought up on the notion that you only walk when your car has broken down. Leave all decisions to the umpires and if it's your lucky day, that's cricket. That system is fraught with hypocrisy because I've seen many batsmen scream like stuck pigs when they get a bad one, I've seen many fielding teams happily accept decisions when they acknowledge amongst themselves in the team huddle that the umpire clearly got it wrong and most amusingly, I've seen fielders who give the batsman an absolute gobful for not walking when he nicks it! If that's not hypocrisy, what is? Surely a system that is built around living with the umpire's verdict is inherently in danger of choking on its own words if they abuse batsmen for not walking when he gets away with one? Under these rules, the only ones who are cheats are the ones who want the rules to work both ways. And they accuse the BCCI of opportunism?

Everyone's so busy accusing each other of dastardly deeds that they forget that it was a genuine mistake by the umpires. That happens. It works both ways. I read some ridiculous comments overnight that seemed to insinuate that the Indians opted against using DRS because it would allow them (the Indians) to get away with cheating. Where's the logic in that comment? That logic only holds true if the BCCI can somehow exert enough influence to infiltrate the game with crooked umpires. If that's the accusation, it is a very serious one indeed and completely destroys the fabric of the game. It's also a gross insult to the umpiring fraternity who clearly make mistakes on the field (as do the players) but would be appalled to think that the some cricket fans actually believe this is so. Any serious cricket follower who has watched the actual on-field umpiring incidents could not possibly think that there is a corrupt system in place that favours India more than other teams. It's just plain ridiculous.

The long-term solutions lie in getting the respective governing bodies to agree on a system that is acceptable to all stakeholders, cricketers, fans, umpires and cricket boards alike. There's a much bigger debate to be had as to whether the technology is reliable enough to be used universally and whether the BCCI should be allowed veto rights based on their power alone. That's a political debate though and one that doesn't really figure in some of the blog comments from all fans who seem hell-bent on accusing each other of racist bias.

What's new about a system that is controlled by the most powerful? We live in a world that runs entirely along those principles where the major industrial nations write the rules and everyone is forced to play by those rules. Those who choose to play by different rules get bombed into submission. One man's terrorist is another man's liberator. The debate about whether the BCCI has too much power or not is a worthy cause to contribute to but it has nothing whatsoever to do with whether players or umpires are cheats. All parties agreed to the system before the first ball was bowled. Just because yesterday's decisions may have come at the start of Ed Cowan's career and the end of Hussey's doesn't make it an act of foul play. By the end of the summer, I am sure the Indian batsmen too will cop some poor decisions so let's hope we don't see a repeat of the sanctimonious hand-wringing and ugly accusations against the umpires or the team who dare to appeal for a nick. Even if it involves Sachin Tendulkar. If he doesn't want to risk a poor decision, tell him not to make a mistake then! Clearly that's what we expect of umpires these days.

So to those vitriolic and irrational bloggers out there who seem to thrive on cowardly insults across a forum where daft nicknames hide their true identity, try not to confuse on-field decisions with agreements made by cricket boards and the ICC. Those are systemic decisions that are as much about politics and power as it is about what is best for the game. I'm certainly not one of those who believes that any governing body, BCCI and Cricket Australia included, necessarily act in the best interests of the game. They act in the best interests of themselves. But let's divorce the players and umpires from some of the grubby individuals who skulk in the corridors of power. Some men are still honourable. Some men still make mistakes. They make honourable mistakes. That's not cheating.

If a pure performance-based system came into operation, players could become selfish and honest mistakes could harbour lingering resentment © Getty Images

Lost amid the hype of the launch of the Big bash League has been a much more interesting and significant event in Australian cricket – the suggestion that Cricket Australia might move to a more performance-based contract system. This will be a radical move for a system that has long been rooted in the notion of the aura surrounding the baggy green cap (substitute canary yellow for ODI's). The suggestion is reckoned to have its genesis in the Argus Report but I fear that if taken too far, it will fail to have the sort of effect that similar strategies may have in the corporate arena that Don Argus is familiar with.

To a certain extent, the performance-based system is already in place anyway. A 25-man contract list that is refreshed each year is clearly based on the most highly rated players, though with an eye to the future more than a reflection of the past. If it was based purely on performance rather than potential, there can be no reasonable explanation why Brad Hodge hasn't been in this list for the last few years; his limited-overs form has been nothing short of brilliant in recent times. So clearly the performance-based system that is currently in place is a forward-looking exercise, mindful no doubt of past form but not tied exclusively to such easily measurable statistics like runs and wickets. Just ask Simon Katich. Actually, don't ask Katich – he might speak his mind and that's a breach of corporate protocol apparently. Hell hath no fury like an opening batsman scorned and all that jazz …

It would be unrealistic to pine for a system that was based on the incredibly strong Sheffield Shield structure that has been in place for many years, most notably in the late 1980s and early 1990s. That was a performance-based system too in the purest sense but it had its roots in Grade cricket. There were no real contracts in place, just state squads that you dropped in and out of based on form. If you consistently scored runs in 1st Grade, you got selected for your state team. If your form dipped, you went back to club cricket. With the need to now provide some form of job protection or security for professional cricketers, that system is no longer viable in that pure form. I fear, though, that it might go too far in the other extreme if Australian contracts became performance-driven to a level that creates uncertainty and fear instead of stability and job security.

The problem I have with this proposed new system is that it might make players too selfish, nervous or jealous. It's only human nature to safeguard your own livelihood and that generally works in a normal office or factory environment, where it's not part of the job to run the risk of dropping catches off your colleague, running him out or sacrificing yourself for the team cause. If a pure performance-based system came into operation, there exists the very real possibility that players would naturally become selfish and honest mistakes would harbour lingering resentment.

Take Katich for example – he's been involved in a few run-outs with Shane Watson. Katich has lost his place while Watson is a fixture in the team. Who's to say that if Katich had not been the batsman dismissed in those incidents, he wouldn't have scored heavily and would still be wearing the baggy green? "That's cricket," I hear you say, but it becomes harder to shrug your shoulders and write off your career with that careless catchphrase anymore.

Likewise Mitchell Johnson, who was hanging on by the skin of his teeth in South Africa recently. Not only did he have to contend with the odd dropped catch but he might also start to question why he wasn't bowling downwind or into the rough or at the tail or with the new ball. So many conspiracy theories or bad luck stories can creep into the mindset of these guys who fear that they're going to be judged purely on numbers.

If we had a system based purely on numbers, perhaps Shane Warne may never have got his chance at all. His Shield record wasn't spectacular but the selectors at the time recognised a streak of genius and backed their instincts. Under a new system that is purely performance-based (logically, that can only be retrospective because you can't perform in advance), Warne may have taken a lot longer to be called-up to the Australian team. Nathan Lyon is winning rave reviews now but clearly his selection was based more on nous than on numbers.

The rotation system will need to be scrapped too if performance-based contracts come into play. Which player is going to happily agree to rest against a minnow team? Which top order batsman will volunteer to sit out a game on a green top against Dale Steyn, Vernon Philander and Morne Morkel? Which fast bowler will complain of some convenient hamstring soreness after he sees a flat pitch at the SSC in Colombo? Unless you can come up with a system that can also measure these variables, including qualities like courage, peer-respect and selflessness, you will have a yardstick that is utterly unsuited to sport. Cricket is not like athletics where you can simply measure someone against the clock or against the rest of the field in the same conditions. Winning or losing a toss can change a career. Team instructions, like "we need to score quickly to set up a declaration" might require a disclaimer to be signed before the batsman agrees to the T and C's.

Cricket, by its very nature, despite being a numbers game that can be measured statistically, has too many variables to be judged by commercially accepted performance or HRM benchmarks. You need a system that still allows for genius and raw talent, and that something special that defies an accountant's scrutiny. It still needs to be a system that is underpinned by runs and wickets, though, because a complete disregard for those fundamentals just leaves players very confused about what they have to do to gain selection. Ed Cowan's selection is great news in that respect – he has done all that can be expected of the next cab in the queue and when another player lost form, the selectors showed every Shield cricketer in the country that there is a unerring logic to their process. That builds faith in the system.

Paul Marsh, the astute and straight-talking boss of the Australian Cricketers' Association, has an excellent point when he asks if anyone else in the cricket set-up is subject to the performance measures that the administrators seem to be keen on imposing on the cricketers. If the 'suits' are keen to bring corporate incentive structures into the mix, does that apply to the hierarchy in Jolimont St too? After all, while the cricket team has undergone significant change since they slipped from being champions in all forms of the game, some if it through natural attrition (Warne, McGrath, Gilchrist, Hayden, Gillespie, the Waugh brothers) and some of it through culling (Katich, Hauritz, Hodge, Krejza, Hughes, Khawaja, Beer, the list goes on), has the same sword been wielded in management circles?

I genuinely am unaware of the answer to that question so I have no hidden agenda for asking it, but it's merely to make the point that it is disingenuous to commission things like the Argus Report that tries to hold the cricketers accountable for the dip in the team's performance unless all 'team members' also wear the pain. What about the management team that presided over that period of disappointment? Is Katich entitled to ask if they are still holding on to their jobs?

Generally speaking, I'm not a big fan of applying overtly corporatised HRM principles to a 'profession' that is still essentially a sport, with all the glorious uncertainties and vagaries that come with it. I worked for many years at a university where I saw brilliant academics promoted to managerial posts. They might be brilliant at analysing atoms under microscopes but they were woeful at running a business. It's hard to apply one set of benchmarks to a totally different skill-set. Bottom line question – will the new system lead to better performance? I doubt it. Try convincing me that Sachin Tendulkar will score more runs if he is offered more money. Likewise Kumar Sangakkara who hasn't even been paid his salary in full yet – I can't see a man of his calibre trying any less harder in Durban next week just because he received his long overdue paycheque.

There's no easy solution but when business tries too hard to apply text book principles to sport, it just doesn't work. Some things defy logic. Cricket has long been a beast of that ilk. And I love her all the more for it.

To expect the fans to follow artificially created franchises (not teams) and engender the sort of tribal passion that characterises AFL and Rugby League is a serious error of judgement © Getty Images

Okay, I'm going to go out on a limb and state my predictions upfront. Right or wrong, at least I won't be accused of pretending to be wise after the event. This post is bound to alienate as many people as it resonates with, so let's just hope we can engage in a civilised dialogue and light-hearted banter. After all, this article is about Twenty20 cricket, so what could be less serious than that? There we go – first shot fired!

I know for a fact that I'm not the only person out there who thinks that the Big Bash League will end up being a flop. Many knowledgeable cricket folk I have spoken to share that view for a number of different reasons. So for the record, let me articulate why I think it is a doomed experiment, regardless of how long the experiment will be persevered with, through sheer bloody-mindedness if nothing else.

Edwin Land, the inventor of Polaroid and a man who probably knew a thing or two about developing quick copies, had this to say about the sort of process that led to the birth of the BBL in some think-tank, possibly at an executive retreat on a beach on a tropical island: "it's not that we need new ideas but we need to stop having old ideas".

Firstly, unlike the IPL (which I still think has a limited shelf life but at least enjoys 'first mover advantage'), the BBL is a cheap copy of a product (the IPL) that operates in a cricket-mad market and attracts the very best players in the world. Australia just doesn't have the sheer numbers who will continue to watch BBL games ad nauseaum. The IPL has proved that it doesn't require significant external interest in the event. Domestic consumption alone is enough to feed the beast, although I'm not quite sure how long it will take before that menu too will start to look a bit tired. But that's another debate altogether. From our perspective here in Australia, domestic interest in the event will wane as soon as the initial novelty wears off. Quality products stand the test of time. You can't throw enough money at a cheap imitation to keep it afloat, regardless of how many bells, whistles and Hollywood starlets you throw at it.

Cricket Australia's marketing gurus are relying upon the sort of tribalism that keeps football clubs throughout the country in plenty of coin. Well actually, even some of those tribes are in serious financial difficulty these days but I think they have totally misread the Australian sports fan. To expect them to follow artificially created franchises (not teams) and engender the sort of tribal passion that characterises AFL and Rugby League is a serious error of judgement. I just can't see a backyard barbeque or dinner party where someone keeps making an excuse to dart into the TV room and check on the score and then return to the patio with all the other blokes waiting to hear the score. That's tribalism. BBL may satisfy the entertainment segment of the market for a short time but it won't get thousands of fans living and breathing every run and wicket, crying tears of joy and pain over their franchise's performance. For a small market like Australia, you will need that die-hard fan base to sustain a viable franchise.

The timing of the BBL is also wrong. Yes, I understand why they need to schedule it for the holiday period but it clashes with too many other things too. Like the Boxing Day Test, the New Year's Test in Sydney, the Australian Open, beach holidays and social gatherings where it would be deemed almost rude to have the cricket playing in the background at an evening family barbeque. In my family for example, if we have guests over for dinner, the television stays off. It's slightly different over a long lunch if the Test cricket is on or if Australia were playing in an ODI but I'm sure there would be many families who would not care for the distraction of a meaningless clash between the Sydney Sixers and the Melbourne Stars dominating the sanctity of a dinner party or evening social engagement.

Further on that point, if the BBL can only survive on the back of garnering interest during the holiday period, doesn't that say something about the whole tribalism thing? None of the football codes that the BBL is trying to emulate needs holidays and good weather to sustain fan interest. In fact, tribalism is best exemplified by the fact that footy fans will turn up in droves on a bitterly cold, wet and windy winter's night to watch their favourite team get flogged every weekend. That's tribalism.

Timing wise, the fact that we have this ridiculous situation in which Cricket Australia has to schedule a so-called 'Batting Camp' before the Boxing Day Test, just underscores how ridiculously out-of-synch our priorities are. Batting Camp? It used to be called Sheffield Shield cricket my friends! You know, that quaint old system that was arguably the best domestic competition in the world? You know, the testing ground where players had to take wickets and score runs before they got selected for a Test match? Bit old-fashioned, I know, but it worked quite nicely for a hundred years or so. Here we are, about to face one of the powerhouses of cricket (India) and our best players have to attend a batting camp to get themselves prepared for the Boxing Day Test? And they keep trying to tell us that Test cricket is still our number one priority. Yeah right.

The over-the-top marketing messages I see from Cricket Australia have clearly been borrowed from our sycophantic obsession with the American marketing machine – it may attract a certain type of audience, but is this where they see the future grassroots support for cricket coming from? They talk about trying to engage with the new generation and that's an admirable ambition, but the danger lies in alienating one loyal set of fans in order to attract an entirely different segment of the market who may only ever consume cricket in this fast food format. I refute the theory that you will be able to migrate these new fans to a longer format of the game. Why would they? Their first experience of cricket will be music, colour, costumes and short attention spans. How do we ever hope to get them to appreciate a brilliant spell of outswing bowling by a Pattinson to a Dravid who is doing everything possible to leave as many as he can without losing his off stump? Where's the fun in that to somebody who has only ever been weaned on a boundary every over, with rap music accompanying every big hit?

Finally, for all those brilliant marketing strategists who reckon that the 'side entertainment' is what attracts people to the game, I have this question to ask of them? What sort of high quality product needs so much diversion to attract a sustainable following? Is the product so inferior that the only way you can sell it is to dress it up in fancy uniforms, loud music and all the circus tricks? Is the product not worthy of standing on its own? Especially for a game like Twenty20, which is so fast-moving, is the audience that bored between each over and each fall of wicket that you have to seduce them with some other form of entertainment to keep them in their seats? Is it not enough that high-quality athletes are smashing sixes, smashing noses (in Brendon McCullum's case) and performing acrobatics in the outfield (Steven Smith on Friday night)? Our old friend Edwin Land of Polaroid fame sums it up rather succinctly when he said "marketing is what you do when your product is no good".

Last night's pantomime at the MCG just about said it all. Has our cricket dropped to such a low level that we're reduced to having an ageing star of yesteryear being the biggest crowd-puller and his girlfriend tossing the coin? We needed to see Shane Warne pashing Liz Hurley to give this BBL product true legitimacy? How long before we run out of famous ex-cricketers with fake blonde hair, dodgy mobile phone etiquette and Hollywood partners?

There's talk in the local newspaper of Shane and Liz being the star attractions for the game in Brisbane on Tuesday night. Gosh, and we've even arranged to mind his kids for him while he supervises Liz tossing! And this is the future that the BBL is banking on for long-term viability? Clearly the cricket itself isn't exciting enough to get people in the door so we need to have the likes of Liz Hurley tossing the coin and playing tonsil hockey with our great leg spinner? This is the vision for the high quality, long-term sustainable product that is going to attract investors and compete with the IPL?

To those marketing geniuses in focus groups, understand this – a BBL franchise will never be a team. It will never be like following the Tigers or the Bulldogs (choose your footy code – same difference). People will see through this tribalism rubbish for what it is. If the product isn't good enough to stand on its own two feet without the distractions, even the new punters you seek to attract will vote with their feet and move on to the next teeny bopper craze.

If this Test had been played in New Zealand, with the same viewer voting system in place, no prizes for guessing who would have won the award © AFP

The great Man-of-the-Match debate after the Hobart Test … my first reaction when I watched it live was a bit of surprise. I would probably have gone for Doug Bracewell but could see why the judges chose David Warner. Once it dawned on me that it was a viewer-driven poll, though, I was less sanguine about the decision. "How stupid," I thought. Of course it was only ever going to go one way if that was the way it was decided. My next thought was, "Honestly, who really cares?"

Clearly, I'm in the minority. Clearly, lots of people do care. So let's look at both sides of the argument then.

This MOM award thing is such a fine line. Especially in such a close game. If this Test had been played in New Zealand, with the same viewer voting system in place, no prizes for guessing who would have won that award. Even if Warner had got Australia over the line, Bracewell may have won the vote. I don't think Australians are the only folk who would have voted for their own man in a tight call.

Let's look at it another way; in Hobart, if Warner hadn't taken that last single, exposing Nathan Lyon to the strike and smashed two boundaries instead (if anyone in world cricket is capable of doing that, surely Warner would be close to the top of that list), would that have changed everything? It would have meant that Australia would have won the match, Warner would have scored a few more runs and Bracewell would have taken five wickets instead of six in a losing cause. So, would eight extra runs have changed our opinion on the whole matter?

What if it wasn't Warner who hit those extra eight runs? What if Lyon had snicked a couple of boundaries or even played one of those delightful Mark Waugh-esque flicks through midwicket? Would that have made us less critical of the popularity contest verdict?

My point is that in a game that was so close, it was a marginal call anyway as to who would get the MOM award. Personally, I would have chosen Bracewell but it wasn't the 'no-brainer' that some people suggest it was. After all, here was a bloke in only his second Test, often pilloried for being a Twenty20 slogger, carrying his bat through a tense fourth-innings chase on a pitch where the next-highest individual score was less than half his 123. It was a pitch that suited bowlers after all so perhaps, if you wanted to be devil's advocate, it could be argued that Warner's effort was more meritorious than Bracewell's bag of wickets.

Do the players themselves really care all that much? Sure, we remember the MOM from a World Cup final but do we really remember each Test match award? It's only a temporary title after all. The circus moves on and today's MOM is yesterday's forgotten hero. How many cricketers trade their reputations on official MOM awards? They play so much cricket these days and each award ceremony is nothing more than an attempt by sponsors to get some gormless, star-struck chief executive or marketing manager on stage to hand over some hideous looking trophy or gold-plated carving. The compere asks the player insightful questions like "how do you feel?", the player responds by thanking the sponsors and acknowledging the contribution of "the rest of the lads" and another memorable (not) ceremony winds up with a mug shot of the aforementioned chief executive trying to shake the hands of anyone who had anything to do with the match, including the groundsman, umpire or bus driver.

Real cricketers don't really care about these awards, not to the extent that the public seems to anyway. Cricketers are not like politicians who care more about what other people outside their 'industry' think. To cricketers at this level, the respect of their peers is more important than any award. Bracewell knows that he has the respect of his team-mates and more importantly perhaps, he has earned a new level of respect from the Australian team. That's probably his most satisfying emotion - knowing the opposition team rates him. MOM awards are all very good but honestly, they'd trade all of those awards for that deep sense of respect and being rated by the opposition. Cricket at this level doesn't need titles to confer legitimacy. Their achievements transcend such cheap thrills.

Cricketers tend to value quiet respect and admiration from inside their community much more than popularity contests conducted by mobile phone companies who make money from every vote. Warner, clearly crestfallen at losing the match, should be applauded for not whooping it up when he got the award. The Australian team were dignified in not going over the top when handed the Chappell-Hadlee Trophy. The New Zealand side were dignified and gracious in victory, aware that in young Bracewell, they had a champion of the future. Dignity, respect and a quiet sense of a job well done. No need for anything else.

The Hobart pitch was probably the closest thing New Zealand would find to local conditions at home © AFP

Let's get this Hobart Test into perspective then; I don't see it as quite the surprise and quite the train smash that a lot of other Australian writers think it is.

It's not such a bad thing for Australian cricket because now there's a genuine sense of competition and hopefully that will translate into a renewed interest in the longer format. Having said that, I hear that the Test was poorly patronised in ground attendance terms but my gut feeling is that it was widely followed on TV, on the radio and via the internet. I'd like to think Australian cricket fans (as opposed to fans of the Australian cricket team) realise now that every Test match is a genuine contest and well worth taking an interest in.

It's not that much of a surprise because if NZ were going to play well at any ground in Australia, it was likely to be on this greenish Hobart deck with conditions ideally suited to swing bowling too. It is probably the closest thing they would find to local conditions in NZ, with the ball nipping around off the seam and swinging in the air. It's the sort of pitch that suited their scrappy, battling, brave style of cricket, especially against an Australian batting order that refuses to bat in any other way other than to hit the ball on the up and away from the body. On good, hard decks, that works a treat. This was a pitch that required a bit of old-fashioned grafting - whilst Australia were still unlikely losers, it wasn't that much of a shock was it?

New Zealand played smart cricket and most importantly, they held their catches in the slips. Both Ross Taylor and Martin Guptill were excellent in the field and that was probably the difference. Had they shelled any of those catches in either innings, that might have been the difference. They expected the Australian batsmen to try to hit through the ball instead of treating it like the green seamer it was and when the chances came, predictably from players like Phillip Hughes and Brad Haddin, they grasped them. For their part, the Australian batsmen kept throwing hard hands at the ball and looked dismayed when it ended predictably, in tears. Again, where's the surprise in that?

What is of more concern to Team Australia is the issue of how they get their batsmen into any sort of Test match nick before Boxing Day. Perhaps it's just a timing issue or a cluttered calendar or a slight under-estimation of New Zealand's appetite for a battle but from a preparation point of view, the Big Bash League could not have come at a worse time. How do you get batsmen to practice leaving the outswinger alone or not playing across the line when you're in constant Twenty20 mode? It would take an exceptional player to be able to switch from Twenty20 mentality back to Test match style and I'm not sure if any of the players in the gunsights are that exceptional. Well, their form isn't that exceptional anyway.

The bright spots on the horizon are worth celebrating too. James Pattinson and David Warner have both given us enough to be optimistic about. Let's not forget though that Hughes too started off with centuries early in his Test career and he's now the subject of intense technical scrutiny. For a domestic system that lauds itself as being the best in the world, one has to wonder how Hughes' apparent technical shortcomings were not exploited by Sheffield Shield bowlers. How can he score so prolifically in Shield cricket if his faults were that obvious? I'm of the opinion that Hughes is just one swashbuckling innings away from redemption, so long as he reverts to that style of play. He will never be a Katich-style grafter so we might as well move on from that era and accept that he scores in different zones and can self-combust more spectacularly too. The kid scored a Test century just a few months ago in Sri Lanka and came close to another one a month ago in South Africa. Likewise Michael Hussey, who carried the batting in Sri Lanka - he'll come good again. Haddin is the one who probably needs to be looked at because he seems to getting out in the same way without peeling off a big score to warrant the risks he's taking to drive on the up through cover and mid-off.

For an fogey like me who has no interest in the BLL circus with pensioners masquerading as stars, I'm looking forward to the real cricket starting again in Melbourne on Boxing Day. India too have their old men turning out but these guys are deadly serious. Sachin Tendulkar, VVS Laxman and Rahul Dravid against the young fast bowlers like Peter Siddle and Pattinson... worth waiting for. All New Zealand have done is to remind us that this Australian team is vulnerable. Very vulnerable. And that's good for cricket.

Young players like Pat Cummins should have a good, long think about longevity and whether that is more important than the quick buck, attractive as that may seem © AFP

Mickey Arthur's recent comments on the rotation policy that Australian cricketers will have to learn to accept, provides excellent material for a discussion on the topic. Arthur talks about the need for "adult conversations" and maturity amongst the playing group so let's start right now then with this blog piece.

Going by comments left by ESPNcricinfo readers, this is clearly a multi-dimensional issue. It's the sort of topic that can be discussed at a mature, sensible level since it lacks the emotion and patriotic fervour surrounding discussions on a particular player or country. I'm looking forward to reading the varied comments that will hopefully follow.

From my perspective, I'm not a big fan of the rotation policy. I come from a generation where each game was sacrosanct and there was no such thing as a "free ride". You played in every game you were selected in, the best team was always selected and you never willingly gave up your spot for anybody else, unless it was due to injury or form. Perhaps that's a reflection of the fact that I played in an era where we were certainly not complaining of too much cricket, and weren't in the habit of surrendering a hard-won spot in the team.

In 1990, I was best man at my sister's wedding and I chose to get there just in time for the start of the reception because the church service clashed with an A-grade game in Brisbane. Despite much grumbling, my family accepted that cricket was my 'job' (to some extent) and that having spent a whole off-season trying to make the team, I wasn't going to risk losing my spot. I argued (unsuccessfully) that my sister should have got married on a weekday instead! Considering that I wasn't good enough to be an automatic selection the following week, I really could not afford to give somebody else a chance to sneak in ahead of me.

The game has moved on since then. They play a lot more cricket and apparently, despite the army of medical specialists, the fittest cricketers of all-time seem to be breaking down at a higher rate than I can ever recall. Maybe the medical support staff and the culture that goes with it just makes cricketers more likely to be aware of injuries these days whereas previously they would have just played through some niggles, perhaps exacerbating the problem. A recent U-19 squad coach I spoke to suggested that when teams don't have a physio travelling with them, they end up with a lot fewer injuries than when there is one.

If the current problem is that they're playing so much cricket and that's what is causing the fatigue-related injuries, here's a simple solution. Play less. How hard is that? The administrators and the cricketers want to play more cricket so they can line their pockets, yet they complain about bigger workloads and more injuries. It's not rocket science chaps – if you can't hack the pace, play lesser cricket, even if that means lesser money, and then we won't need to rotate players. Shock, horror... we might even have the best possible team selected for every game. Now that's a new way to bring the crowds back to Test matches!

I know that it's all about the money and the TV rights. Yes, yes, I get all that. But if we're now playing so much cricket that nobody is actually that interested in each game, is that a counter-productive strategy? I did not watch a single ball of the recent Australia v New Zealand Test match which was played in my home town. I am vaguely aware that India played West Indies in a series recently, but I don’t know what happened. I remember reading about Ravi Rampaul scoring some runs, and one of the Tests ending as an exciting draw in Mumbai. Pakistan recently played Sri Lanka somewhere in the Middle East and it was on Pay-TV but I cannot recall a single note-worthy score. So my point is that in trying to make more money from playing more cricket, you risk saturating the market to the point where even cricket lovers like myself stop following games closely. Less cricket, less injuries / fatigue, less need for rotation. Possibly, less earning power for some cricketers and oards too.

Some cricketers will say they want to play as much cricket as possible and earn as much as they can. Fair enough but if that's the case, don't complain if you get injured or if you get rotated because of fatigue. And certainly don't complain about excessive workloads! Young players like Pat Cummins and Mitchell Starc should have a good, long think about longevity and whether that is more important than the quick buck, attractive as that may seem. If they sign on for IPL contracts, they might get rich quicker but will it risk their long-term prospects of playing international cricket for another 12-15 years?

Despite Michael Hussey's reservations about the rotation system, I think it is more likely to apply to fast bowlers than to batsmen. I haven't come across too many batsmen who claim they are too fatigued to keep scoring runs. If you're in good form with the bat, unless you have an actual injury like a broken bone or a torn hamstring, I can't see a batsman agreeing to being rotated for a Test, just so he can have a rest. The day that happens will be the day Test cricket loses its intrinsic value as the ultimate form of the game. A fast bowler might actually be physically fatigued if he had back-to-back Tests in hot weather and with a heap of travel thrown into the equation, but batsmen will be loath to stand aside. Despite Arthur's calls for maturity around this issue, I can't see it happening. Just think back to Shaun Marsh's entry into Test cricket in Sri Lanka when he scored a century - why would anyone like Usman Khawaja be immature (naïve) enough to stand aside and let Marsh play a Test against a relatively weak bowling attack? It's different in the case of say Stuart Law or Martin Love who were essentially drafted in to temporarily replace established stars. Both parties knew that as soon as the incumbent returned from injury (or family duties), they would walk back into the set-up, a good show from the replacement notwithstanding.

Does the rotation policy apply to the captain too? Surely if fatigue is a factor, the captain must be more susceptible than most? If Michael Clarke was a bit weary, would it be acceptable for him to miss a Test as part of the rotation policy? In my eyes, that would utterly demean the institution that comes with being the captain of your country in Test cricket. I realise that it happens more readily in ODI or T20 formats but Test cricket? Surely not!

I can see why it is in Mickey Arthur's best interests to prepare his squad for the possibility that they may be rotated. If he can manage the angst that flows from these selections to an acceptable growl, his life will be a lot easier. But from a cricketer's perspective, I just can't stomach the thought of being "rested" for an international game when I'm not actually physically incapable of playing. Never having played at that level (and wishing I had), I cannot envisage a mindset that would allow me to stand aside willingly. If that is what ends up happening to Test cricket one day, it will signal the end of the romance and passion that has always been the format’s claim to purity. Surely some things are more sacred than the tawdry glamour of the IPL, the glitzy bi-annual World T20s, and the endless list of ODI trophies presented by inane CEOs of electronic companies smiling and fawning on stage with Tony Greig whilst he gushes over another forgettable event?

Ricky Ponting: Should he go gracefully or keep fighting for his spot? © AFP

With the Gabba Test just a day away, it’s traditionally the time when Australian cricket fans turn their minds away from their winter football passions and begin a summer of cricket analysis, dissecting the fortunes of the national cricket team at backyard bbq’s. What I’ve been hearing recently is a genuine ‘identity crisis’ in some senses. What does the baggy green stand for? Is it a highly prized reward for the best 11 cricketers in the land? Is it a national institution? Does the right to wear the cap belong to a great player or has the Australian Way always been about the team superseding the individual, regardless of his ‘greatness’?

Let’s start with the Ricky Ponting dilemma; one of the all-time greats nearing the end of an illustrious career. Should he go gracefully or keep fighting for his spot? Monitoring talkback radio, internet blogs and sports magazine shows on TV, I sensed a strong push towards giving him the push. It’s almost a back-handed compliment to Ponting in that the masses don’t want to see him get to the point where he is dropped on form. They want to remember their champion batsman as exactly that – a magnificent warrior who walked off the stage with people still wishing he had one more innings left in him.

I’m in two schools about Ponting’s situation. One part of me admires the fact that he seems to just love playing cricket and wants to keep doing it for as long as he can. Good on him if that is his motivation for refusing to hang up his boots. If he still genuinely loves strapping on the pads and walking out to bat, I admire him for refusing to let anyone else’s agenda overrule his sheer love for the game. It will be interesting to see if that love only extends to playing for Australia or whether he might eventually choose to drop down a level and play Shield cricket. After all, there are talented youngsters in Tasmania too who will benefit from having a player of his calibre in the dressing room.

Is it cricket that he loves or cricket for Australia? I can relate to his sheer love of the game. When I stopped playing at my highest level, there was no question that I would hang up my boots. I’ve continued to slip down the grades to where some would argue I rightfully belong. I simply love playing cricket and I realise I’ll be retired a long time so I’m going to keep playing at any level until the body physically refuses to co-operate. It doesn’t particularly worry me that I’m not scoring big hundreds or bowling at the same speeds. For me, it’s not about how good I am but how much I genuinely love the game. Z Grade here I come. Is Ponting of the same ilk I wonder?

The other part of me wonders why such a great player would want to carry on when he hears all the carping? Does he really want to push his luck to the point where he meets his fate on the end of a sword? It might seem undignified to some people but there’s also a certain element of noble warrior mentality in that attitude. He fought his way into the team and he’ll keep fighting to his last breath, accepting the coup de grace in that inevitably brave way that the old alpha male lion finally walks away from his pride of lionesses.

Does Ponting have a definite date or statistical figure in mind or is he just going to let Nature have her way and keep fighting until he is usurped? I’m not brave enough to predict that the runs will dry up this summer for Ponting. He is too good a player (even still) and I don’t rate the quality of the opposition bowling attacks this summer. New Zealand are brave as always but their fast-bowling attack lacks venom. India are a fabulous batting unit but I don’t their quicks will pose any significant threat on Australian pitches, especially if they lose Ishant Sharma to the inevitable injury halfway through the tour. So we’re not going to necessarily be able to judge Ponting on form alone this summer because he will most probably peel off a big score at some point. Which then begs the question…what will be the trigger for his retirement? Or is he waiting for the trigger?

The other big issue has been the Mickey Arthur saga. I’ve heard a lot of people who are appalled that a non-Australian is coaching our cricket team. I must confess that I don’t share their horror. It’s a professional game and national pride is no longer what it used to be. Cricket Australia concede as much when they allow (force?) players to fulfill IPL commitments ahead of Test-match preparations. So what’s the problem with choosing the best man for the job, irrespective of his passport? Australian coaches have been coaching foreign teams and we have no such uneasiness when that happens so why is our national team so special? Some of our biggest and most iconic national corporate brands are headed up by foreigners. Qantas, the so-called Australian airline, has an Irishman in charge. One of our biggest mining companies, BHP Billiton has a South African-born chap extracting Australian minerals from the ground and selling it to China and India. So what’s so special about the Australian cricket team? Some of our greatest cricketers in recent times have walked away from the national side and then continued to plunder riches in the IPL. Clearly they still love playing the game but only when there’s big money involved. Otherwise, why not keep playing Shield cricket or grade cricket and pass on the legacy?

It promises to be a summer of utter contrast. The dawn of new careers and the end of some great ones. I’m going to savour watching Sachin Tendulkar, Rahul Dravid, Virender Sehwag and VVS Laxman for the last time on Australian soil. They have all scored great hundreds in this country and despite their age, I think that the Australian bowling attack will still allow them to give us one last show. It’s a rare time when a few of the all-time batting greats will all be playing in the twilight of their careers so it’s a wonderful opportunity to contrast their styles and methods. Mind you, the way Dravid and Tendulkar keep churning out the runs, maybe I’m writing their epitaph a bit too soon!

If winning was a culture, surely Ricky Ponting could have brought it to the current Australia team © AFP

Winning isn't everything; it's the only thing
- Vincent Lombardi

As much as I love cricket, I can't bring myself to sift through the entire contents of the Argus report. I'll take the soft option and look to someone else to do the hard yards and provide a synopsis of the most important bits. From what I've read, it sounds like some Australia cricketers stand accused of doing just that at times during these last few years. There's a lot of talk about ‘team culture’ etc. and I must confess that I'm genuinely unsure as to where I sit on this sort of management-speak jargon. I've heard the term bandied about increasingly, a hand-me-down from the corporate world no doubt but how relevant is it to this conversation about Australian cricket?

The old-fashioned cynic in me leans towards dismissing any serious analysis of the whole team culture thing. In some respects, it's an easy excuse for covering up the most basic cricketing fact of all - the team that scores the most runs and takes the most wickets generally wins. If you look back to the so-called strong team culture that pervaded the Mark Taylor/Steve Waugh/Ricky Ponting era from the mid 1990s through to about 2009, they had some fabulous cricketers. With players with those egos inhabiting the same dressing room, you could be forgiven for wondering if that was a fertile ground for a negative team culture. Yet, reading the autobiographies and listening to interviews from that era of Australian cricketer, the universal theme that comes through is one of a strong team ethic and a powerful culture that bound these strong, proud, sometimes arrogant men together. So what's changed? Winning! Well, not winning.

It's amazing how the simple act of winning or losing cannibalises itself. In order to win regularly, you need great players. Australia had that in spades during that 15-year period. No wonder they were nigh indomitable. Sure, they enjoyed a strong team culture but it's the age-old question - which came first; chicken or egg?

A few of those same players are still in this current team. Ricky Ponting, Michael Clarke, Michael Hussey, Brett Lee, Shane Watson. As intelligent men, they could have surely brought that culture of winning with them into this squad. Except of course that it's hard to create a winning culture when ... when ... um ... um ... when you're not winning.

Look, it's a complex issue and there are a million text books and management bestsellers out there that espouse the value of organisational culture. I do not doubt for one moment that there is immense value in understanding and fostering that theory. In sport though, it's sometimes too easy to revert to corporate analogies that obfuscate the blindingly obvious - if you have the cattle to win trophies, you magically seem to have a good culture and when you start losing a few series, that culture soon turns sour (apparently). Sometimes it can be the difference between a great catch, a lucky snick through the slip cordon or losing an important toss. Do we really need a report that took 6 months to write to tell us what we already know? Australian cricket had a wonderful halcyon period; eventually that had to come to an end. India took over the reins briefly and England have now come into their cycle of ascendancy. Think of Ian Bell's horror Ashes series in 2005? Has he just grown up and become a far better batsman or has the winning culture of the England dressing room suddenly given him a talent infusion that would otherwise have been lying dormant?

Think back to the great West Indian era of the late 1970s through to the mid 1990s. Their team culture was apparently awesome to behold and their high-five celebrations became the symbol of that domination. High-fiving is now the way all cricketers celebrate; from even the youngest juniors through to the oldest park cricketers, it is one of the great legacies that Clive Lloyd and his calypso men left behind (some jazz-hat cricket in England remains thankfully resistant). As soon as they started to lose their mojo, even the players who were part of that great culture were suddenly victims of the complete opposite. Richie Richardson, Courtney Walsh and Carl Hooper saw both sides of the coin and they probably didn't become toxic overnight. They just stopped winning as often. And then some management guru analysed them to death.

Why is it so hard to accept that winning and losing is a cyclical thing? Always has been; always will be. Yes, I do believe that in time to come India will dominate the game for increasingly longer periods but that's purely down to the fact that they have a huge population of cricket-mad people who by virtue of sheer numbers will swamp the other cricketing nations. But even India will go through patches of mediocrity, even with all-time greats in the team. If you look at it from a pure numbers perspective, the latest injuries to the Indian bowling attack shouldn't really have had that much of an impact. With the depth that they should have in the country, there really should be a dozen Zaheer Khans and Harbhajan Singhs waiting to come through the system. Fact is that they've lost a few Test matches, barely a few months after they won a World Cup, no less. So what do we make of their culture now? Is it world champion stuff or 4-0 loss territory?

Australian cricket can analyse itself to distraction but I can't see it making that much of a difference to be honest. There might be a few areas that can be improved and modified but unless the Cricket Australia management are prepared to be as harsh on themselves as they are on non-performing players, the Argus Report may achieve very little. That is the romance of sport. If we knew that one team would continue to win forever purely because of culture, cricket would be a boring, soulless place. Fortunately, it remains a place of dreams, of bad luck, of heroism, of improbable chance, of inexplicable umpiring and of sheer unadulterated talent that even the best systems in the world simply cannot produce from even the most comprehensive reports. Players like Sachin Tendulkar and to a lesser extent Shane Warne are living proof of that. They defy organisational culture and team ethos and even their own foibles (in Warne's case). Some things are just a gift from the gods and will forever be thus. No analysis required please.

The Argus report reminds me of the old joke about culture, applicable to any race that you wish to have a friendly jibe at. I've been sledged with it and I've used it on myself in moments of self-deprecation. "What's the difference between yogurt and XYZ nationality? Yogurt's got more culture." Similarly, what's at the heart of the Australian cricket team's so-called ‘poor culture’? Having just won a series in Sri Lanka, maybe they've suddenly got a great culture. Or maybe they just batted, bowled and fielded better. Didn't need 6 months and a few hundred pages to tell you that!

Alastair Cook is understated and classy © Getty Images

Irony. One of the most underrated pleasures. Best savoured slowly and with none of the joy and exhilaration that comes with winning or triumphalism. It's almost bitter-sweet in flavour because it brings with it no great sense of personal achievement or patriotic fervour; just a wry smile and a shake of the head.

Irony is spread thick on British toast this Sunday morning. In a week which Andrew Strauss described as not being one of England's finest hours (with reference to the riots), the much-maligned English cricket system of the last 20 years finally brought the throne back to the birthplace of the game. On one hand we have a staid, traditional, somewhat old-fashioned country (in the nicest possible way I might add) showing off an ugly modern face that looked so incongruous among the iconic tourist sights of London. Barely a few days later we saw a slick, ruthless and thoroughly modern cricket team, even down to the style of clothing they now wear on the field, polish off a tired but formidable (on paper) Indian batting team that boasts many of the modern greats.

There is nothing old-fashioned or traditional about this England team, even down to the Irishman in the middle order and the various other players whose heritage can be traced back to the four corners of the globe but who are now as proudly British as you like. No sense of disenfranchised youths among this lot! And all of this in an old British city (Birmingham) that is now as famous for its Indian balti restaurants as anything else. Ironic indeed.

For India, the gentle fall to earth was predictable but surely it must hurt a little bit to relinquish the No. 1 ranking so meekly. Okay, it is clear that Test cricket is not necessarily at the top of the BCCI's priorities and that is their prerogative. India have earned the right to prioritise their own goals and who would begrudge them that privilege? They are the World Champions in the shorter format, their innovative economy has reinvented Twenty20 cricket to the extent that everyone is copying their blueprint. The irony I suppose is that for a country that scoffed at Twenty20 cricket when it was first born, it took but one triumph in South Africa a few years ago, when a young MS Dhoni led a team of pups to a world championship, for India to now relegate Test cricket to a definite second, third or even fourth priority. No one at the BCCI will ever admit it but maybe even IPL ranks higher in the pecking order.

India are not the only ones seduced by that mistress - Australia too have proved that despite the rhetoric, IPL contracts are on a par with any sense of national duty. We only have to remember Michael Hussey and Doug Bollinger arriving late for a Test series in India because of commitments with Chennai Super Kings to realise that it would be hypocritical to single out the home nation as the only ones smitten by the IPL's fluttering eyelashes.

It is ironic too that for a country that is widely regarded as the most cricket crazy nation on earth, the longer form of the game has lost its spectator appeal. You would think that for a nation which loves cricket as much as India does, the more cricket the better. To a certain extent that is true but it's not the five-course meal that Indians now love to watch. They have embraced the take-away, fast-food concept and are now exporting it with added spice! Some people would argue that the Indian cricket fan still follows Test cricket as closely as ever but they just don't like watching it at the stadium. Even allowing for some of that, looking from afar, one can't help but feel that the players themselves know that their real stardom lies in the shorter format.

With the retirement of Rahul Dravid, VVS Laxman and Sachin Tendulkar looming, one cannot help but feel that they will take a bit of that five-day magic with them. Virender Sehwag has a magnificent Test record but such is his style that one tends to link him more closely to the shorter game, although his numbers suggest that he's actually a more credentialed Test player than anything else. More irony.

For England, I can only see a fairly extended reign at the top. They will need to find a spinner to replace the excellent Graeme Swann but the rest of their squad looks robust and endurable. Now that Kevin Pietersen's star has waned slightly, they lack the genuine stars that the Australian and Indian dynasties boasted during their reigns but ironically (there's that word again!), that actually makes England a more complete outfit. In Alastair Cook they have a future record-breaking run machine but it is probable that he will creep up silently on greatness in a manner quite unlike Tendulkar, Ponting, Sehwag, Lara et al.

Cook is the quintessential British stereotype in that respect - understated, efficient and classy without feeling the need to convince anyone else. He is unlikely to be the poster boy for junior cricketers in England but for all that anonymity, he might just be the dinosaur that Test cricket, and English cricket, needs to keep the embers burning.

Who will challenge England in the next few years? Just about everybody but I don't think they'll dethrone England for a few years yet. I don't think they will dominate to the extent that the Aussies crushed all before them during their halcyon period but in typical British tradition, they will be efficient and clinical, winning more than they lose in the next half-decade. I rate South Africa as their most likely challenger for no other reason than they have the same efficient work ethic that Andy Flower has managed to instill into this team. The South African domestic system is quite robust and, like county cricket, it doesn't necessarily have to be the best domestic competition in the world to turn out a squad of about 15 players who can take on the world. Mind you, a question for another blog piece might be the issue of which country has the best first-class system. Australia can no longer claim that as its birth-right but who else has the depth to match it?

Not to be particularly jingoistic - I don't really care who sits on the throne - but after watching Britain's youth laying waste to a proud country that I so dearly love from my many years of playing cricket and my days as a student at Oxford, I can only hope that Strauss and his men realise that cricket needs them to rule with a velvet glove not an iron fist. We've seen what can happen when young people feel disenfranchised and ignored by the powerbrokers - regardless of whether we agree with their gripes or not (and frankly, I don't!); cricket too, even Indian cricket, can learn something from that. Rule with grace, mind your manners, innovate with imagination but never forget that the roots of the game still lie in slow-growing soil. The Tendulkars of the world can grace any stage but his pedigree was born of traditional parenting. Watching a slowly unfolding Border/Dravid/Yousuf/Kallis/Warne masterclass in Test cricket is a pleasure that should not just be for the video archives - there's room in cricket for all types of kingdoms.

The King is dead. Long live the King. That's irony.

Matthew Hayden's self-belief is his standout feature © Indian Premier League

Matthew Hayden has come out of retirement to sign up with Brisbane Heat in the Big Bash League. My first reaction was ...’gosh, not sure how to react!’ The Hayden Way (as his company is called) is a brand that clearly trades on his reputation for being tough and uncompromising, winning at all costs. Wonder how history and hindsight will judge this reincarnation?

I've known Matt since we were both young men, both of us trying to break into First Grade cricket in Brisbane. I was a couple of years senior to him and had already played for the first team when he burst on to the scene and "announced himself". And I mean, announced himself. Whereas my goals, in keeping with my talent, were fairly modest, Matt suffered from no such inferiority complex. Blessed with enormous self-confidence, a powerful physique and a work ethic to match, I watched this young pup write his own autobiography in his mind and then fulfill it. It was quite a bizarre way to live the dream - he wrote the script, convinced himself that it was his destiny and, despite many who doubted him, went on to live the dream.

Early doors, I must confess that I feared for this perceived arrogance. As the runs piled up, after he predicted they would, that fear grew into a kind of morbid admiration. I realised soon enough that his self-belief wasn't so much arrogance as utter confidence in himself. I shared too many dressing rooms with him early in his career to put it down to a fluke. The guy was just on a different planet when it came to making bold statements about scoring big runs and then backing it up in totally emphatic fashion. When he returned to the dressing room to our congratulations, his reaction suggested there was no relief or sense of vindication in his own mind. It was more like a sense of "well, what did you expect? I told you I'd get some today. What's so surprising about that"?

I remember taking him to see a Test Match at the Gabba in 1989. Aravinda De Silva scored a slow century and Asoka De Silva (of umpiring fame these days) batted for some time as a nightwatchman, eking out runs until he got cleaned up just before lunch. It was fairly ponderous going by today's standards but not ridiculously slow batting in the context of Test cricket at the time. Halfway through the day, Matthew got up from his seat, thanked me for the free ticket and said "this is just bull****. When I play for Australia, I'm not going to allow anyone to tie me down like this. I'm not going to sit here and watch this rubbish".

And true to his word, he rarely allowed anyone to tie him down. He might have holed out trying to break the shackles but every time he batted in Test cricket, I was reminded of this young man who had barely started playing senior club cricket, telling himself that this was "bull****". Renowned later on in his career for much more colourful language than this, he nonetheless batted in this vein throughout his career, always looking to dominate and refusing to allow the innings to drift aimlessly. It is that sort of memory that makes me hesitate about writing off this latest comeback.

I suppose at some point age will catch up with self-belief and he might make one rash statement too many. Maybe this will be his Waterloo. There will be many around the world who frowned upon the abrasive way he played the game but don't let that emotion be confused with doubting his ability to succeed at something he puts his mind to. It certainly wasn't the way I played my cricket. I did not have the talent or inclination to play the game The Hayden Way but what I did learn from him was that self-belief can be the most potent drug in sport.

There's still a little bit of me that wonders if he can pull off this latest stunt but I'm not prepared to bet against it. Yes, I wonder why he's risking his reputation at this stage to get knocked over by some fresh-faced youngsters, and, yes, I wonder if his reputation or bank balance really needs this adrenaline surge but one thing's for sure - you can be 100% convinced that Matt Hayden truly believes that Matt Hayden will score big runs. He knows no other way of thinking. That is his brand.That is The Hayden Way.

Every time a country plays a Test Match they should pick the best 11 players available that day; potential is something you can experiment with on A Tours © Getty Images

Throughout his career, Simon Katich was a relatively low-key character. In an era where he shared the stage with players like Matthew Hayden, Adam Gilchrist, Ricky Ponting, Shane Warne, Michael Clarke and Andrew Symonds, Katich's role was always underplayed. He flew under the radar at times, churning out runs in his second coming with serene monotony, rarely drawing much attention to himself. It is ironic then that his axing from the Australian squad has attracted more public interest than many of his fine knocks. Even in his disappointment, he may yet see the bitter humour in that.

Unfairly perhaps, Katich will be remembered as a bit of a grafter, a reliable and hardy competitor, very much in the mould of the old-fashioned Australian opener of yesteryear. That image probably sells him short. His scoring-rate may have paled in comparison to Hayden (whose wouldn't?) but he ticked along at a deceptive pace. He may have lacked the power game of his genre, but the shuffle across to off stump and supple wrists meant he rarely got tied down, strong through third man and efficient behind square on the leg side. From the outside looking in, he appeared relatively unselfish, happy to sit in the slipstream of the flashier characters in his team, preferring the shadows while the big boys hogged the headlines.

Typical of his brand though, it appears that even in 'death' (in a cricketing sense), his passing will morph into a debate that renders him an innocent bystander. Like in many of his big opening partnerships with Shane Watson and Hayden, Katich is almost forgotten in the post-mortem. This time too, this issue has become more of a forum to discuss Andrew Hilditch's (and to a lesser extent Greg Chappell's) performance as chief selector. Katich, the original victim has almost become the forgotten road-kill in the bigger debate around Hilditch's future. "What about me?" poor old Kato must cry. “Forget Hilditch's career – I'm the one without a contract!”

Clearly the selectors have made a decision based on the long-term future of Australian cricket, but they've tried to balance that to some extent by not reverting to a wholesale youth policy. Otherwise, based on form and age alone, one could argue that Ponting, Hussey and Clarke might also have been cut from Test cricket calculations, their numbers in recent years no better than Katich. For one of the 'greats' like Ponting though, he probably deserves more than to be compared against anyone. His record allows him the dignity of being judged on a different spreadsheet to the other foot soldiers.

When it comes to Test cricket especially, I'd like to know whether sensible cricket followers, not just Australian fans, agree with the notion of fielding a First XI based on potential rather than the team being the best 11 cricketers in the land on the day. I've always leaned towards the notion that every time a country plays a Test Match they should pick the best 11 players available that day. To me, Test cricket is still the ultimate honour and being selected to play for your country is a special privilege. Regardless of age, pick the best team you can. Potential is something you can experiment with on A Tours and in first-class cricket but it's a bit like marriage to me – you might date lots of girls throughout your life but hopefully you decide to marry that very special person who means the most to you. It's not a trial run and it's not a reward for someone who may just prove to later become the love of your life – I feel similarly about Test cricket.

If you subscribe to that theory, then Katich is entitled to feel miffed to not even feature in the list of 25 contracted players. If you're not going to pick the best Test team on any given day, does it not devalue that spine-tingling boyhood dream of playing Test cricket for your country? If we're picking teams purely on potential, looking to the future, where do we draw the line then? Should we pick the entire Under-19 team, based on the logic that they will one day realise their potential? When they finally reach their potential, should we then dispense with them and pick the next generation of youngsters, recycling that same theory about always picking on potential? I think Test cricket should be the ultimate reward for realising potential, regardless of age. Anything else is tantamount to unfair discrimination.

Sure, the real answer probably lies somewhere in between, where commonsense and idealism meet. The danger, though, with Australia's preoccupation with finding an opening partnership in time for the next Ashes series, is that it unintentionally insults every other team it encounters along the way. There's no doubting that the Ashes hold a special place in Australian cricket's priorities, but I still think that we owe it to our proud tradition to put out the best possible team in every Test we play, against Sri Lanka, South Africa or Bangladesh. Let the next generation show us what they've got in the warm-up games and A Tours, but let's reserve that baggy green cap for the best 11 cricketers available for selection on that particular day. To me, that's the only way Test cricket will maintain its special place in the hearts of cricketers, in an era where ODI and T20 games are played today and forgotten tomorrow.

Just ask players like Jamie Siddons, Stuart Law, Wade Seccombe and Martin Love about what that baggy green cap really meant to them. Fabulous cricketers all of them, but they never got picked on potential. If they couldn't force their way into the First XI, they missed out. That was always the Australian way. We pride ourselves on picking the best team and then finding a captain from among that lot, unlike England who had a long history of selecting a captain who wouldn't necessarily have made the team on form alone.

Will Katich get selected from outside the squad? I doubt it. Yet, if the selectors were fair, they should just ask this question of themselves. If Katich was fit and scoring runs, would he be in the team today, regardless of next month, next year or the next Ashes series? The baggy green cap deserves that respect.

As Ricky Ponting nears the end of his career, could Australia unearth another such talent, asks Michael Jeh, when young cricketers in the system can't understand why a single to mid-on is preferable to a boundary through square leg © Getty Images

Ricky Ponting's retirement as captain marks the end of a golden era in Australian cricket, the likes of which I do not believe we will ever see again. His greatness as a batsman still has some years to run out if the Australian selectors are prepared to dispense with tradition and pick the best batsman in the country even though he is no longer captain. Kim Hughes was the last captain I can think of who resigned the captaincy and returned to the ranks in 1984, but his tenure was short-lived at the hands of a mighty West Indian bowling attack. I can't see Ponting suffering that same fate - he is too good a player for that and there aren't any bowling attacks capable of dismantling him in that fashion.

It will be interesting to watch Ponting assimilate back into the nucleus of the team and see if the relief of the burden of captaincy, and the accompanying media spotlight, relaxes or frustrates him. I suspect his sheer class as a batsman will win the day. Watching the way he celebrated his century in Ahmedabad last week suggested a man with yet unfinished business and a steely determination to keep proving people wrong. I predicted his century on my radio programme a few days before the match but to be honest, it was hardly a brave prediction. His record in big matches, coupled with his skill and mental strength pointed to the very real possibility that he would play an innings of some significance very soon. And so it was proved.

The end of the Ponting era and the end of the World Cup also heralds the end of the cricket season in Australia. From grown men to little boys, the kits are being packed up and cricket disappears from the everyday landscape for at least five months. That's one reason why I think Australia will struggle to repeat a period of success that started with the latter part of the Border era and finished today with Ponting. Unlike the Asian countries for whom cricket has no real natural predator, Australia has a strong football culture (AFL, rugby codes, soccer) and it's cricket infrastructure is never going to be able to compete with the sheer numbers of the people for whom cricket is much more than just another sport.

My own cricket season came to a premature end halfway through a grand final, courtesy a split webbing and eleven stitches in my bowling hand. The Under-8 team that I coach also finished up last Saturday. Many of the young lads in that team are unlikely to continue in the sport, not for any other reason than a lack of genuine passion for the game. My son is one of the exceptions; despite not showing any great natural ability (at least I know he's my son!!!), his love for the game is quite unlike any of his mates. He mourned the end of the season while a few of his mates breathed a sigh of relief. He went straight to the backyard to start practicing for next season while his mates probably kicked footballs against the fence. I just can't see this happening in the Colombo of my youth where there was never even a suggestion that cricket needed an 'off season'. It wasn't necessarily structured games of organised cricket but backyard/laneway battles that raged all evening until darkness descended and we reluctantly straggled home, swatting mosquitoes with imaginary pull shots.

Australia's strength at the top level will always be strong. There's too much money in the system for that not to happen among the top cricketers in the country. It's lower down the ladder where our lack of depth will be exposed. Perhaps no one outside the country will ever see this because all they see is a national team that will always be competitive. Looking at the way junior cricket is played (and coached), I fear for the long-term future of the lower rungs of cricket.

Despite my pessimism in this narrow sense, I can still see blue sky. Through sheer chance, I came across an unassuming chap called Cameron Tradell who runs a coaching business called Sweetsport. I watched him coach my seven-year-old son, listened to the way he simplified everything down to the most basic level and then saw some amazing results within the hour! It humbled me that there are coaches who come to the game with no great reputations as elite players themselves but still manage to cut through to young kids. His coaching techniques were so simple it made me think "why didn't I think of that?", but the truth is that I've never heard anybody quite communicate with young children like he did.

There are other coaches like Cameron around the country who volunteer their time and wisdom in hidden corners, often unnoticed and unheralded. The system will probably never discover them because they fly under the radar without blowing their own trumpets and attracting the attention of cricket administrators. Parents like me who have played a decent level of cricket tend to dominate junior coaching roles without anyone ever questioning whether I can translate my own cricketing knowledge into a language that youngsters can understand. In one hour, Cameron made more progress than I was able to achieve in three years. It served as a humble reminder that the best talent, players or coaches, are often found by accident, in environments that have a love of cricket that transcends politics, parents and over-administration.

Junior cricket, at my son's club anyway, is predominantly played in the ‘V’ between midwicket and fine-leg, dominated by strong boys who can play the 'hoick' every ball. Most bowlers at this age can barely get the ball to the other end without a few wides each over. A far cry indeed from the Azar Maidan in Mumbai where I recently watched a group of very young lads with impeccable batting techniques facing a bowler who bowled doosras on request! These Indian kids were probably not deemed "elite" and will probably never grace our television screens but their rudimentary skills suggested that something (or somebody) has got to these youngsters at an early age, and set them up with a framework that they can extend as their bodies grow stronger.

Cameron Tradell was one of the few coaches who was able to get the message across to my son (and his friend) that playing straight was a long-term goal that would outlast the temporary glory of scoring cheap runs exclusively through square leg. Try telling a seven-year-old that technique is more important than runs - this was the first time playing straight made sense because of the use of a unique bat that rewarded the boys for hitting the ball with a full face. It absolutely pinged off the sweet spot when they hit straight down the ground and all of a sudden, the hoick was yesterday's shot!

Ponting himself was a junior prodigy, brought up on a classical technique and clearly coached by someone who knew how to coach a kid properly. We are reminded today that soon he will no longer stride out to bat for Australia at number three, arguably our greatest ever in that crucial position. I don't think we'll ever see the likes of Ponting again in this country unless our junior cricket system can encourage kids who can bat for long periods and play straight. Not unless we can find ways to encourage coaches who can see the big picture and can find ways to communicate those simple techniques to young minds who cannot easily understand why a single to mid-on is preferable to a boundary through square leg. That's the difference I see at the grassroots level between the Asian countries and Australia.

Perhaps it has always been thus ... perhaps we'll look back on the Ponting era and wonder if we'll ever see another batsman of his quality. Yes, Sachin Tendulkar is another special batsman but somehow, I expect those cricket-crazy countries, distracted by little else, to produce another Little Master again. I showed my son some footage from that maidan in India and his jaw dropped. And then he picked up his rugby ball and walked out the back door. Cricket season has finished - time to move on. Et tu Ponting.

Young players in Australia lack the enthusiasm to match the Asian giants ©

Ricky Ponting's retirement as captain marks the end of a golden era in Australian cricket, the likes of which I do not believe we will ever see again. His greatness as a batsman still has some years to run if the Australian selectors are prepared to dispense with tradition and still pick the best batsman in the country even though he is no longer captain. Kim Hughes was the last captain I can think of who resigned the captaincy and returned to the ranks in 1984 but his tenure was short-lived at the hands of a mighty West Indian bowling attack. I can't see Ponting suffering that same fate - he is too good a player for that and there aren't any bowling attacks capable of dismantling him in that fashion.

It will be interesting to watch Ponting assimilate back into the nucleus of the team and see if the relief of the burden of captaincy, and the accompanying media spotlight, relaxes or frustrates him. I suspect his sheer class as a batsman will win the day. Watching the way he celebrated his century in Ahmedabad last week suggested a man with yet unfinished business and a steely determination to keep proving people wrong. I predicted his century on my radio program a few days before the match but to be honest, it was hardly a brave prediction. His record in big matches, coupled with his skill and mental strength pointed to the very real possibility that he would play an innings of some significance very soon. And so it proved.

The end of the Ponting era and the end of the World Cup also heralds the end of the cricket season in Australia. From grown men to little boys, the kits are being packed up and cricket disappears from the everyday landscape for at least five months. That's one reason why I think Australia will struggle to repeat a period of success that started with the latter part of the Border era and finished today with Ponting. Unlike the Asian countries for whom cricket has no real natural predator, Australia has a strong football culture (AFL, rugby codes, soccer) and it's cricket infrastructure is never going to be able to compete with the sheer numbers of people for whom cricket is much more than another sport.

My own cricket season came to a premature end halfway through a grand final, courtesy of split webbing and eleven stitches in my bowling hand. The Under-8s team that I coach also finished up last Saturday. Many of the young lads in that team are unlikely to continue in the sport, not for any other reason than a lack of genuine passion for the game. My son is one of the exceptions; despite not showing any great natural ability (at least I know he's my son!!!), his love for the game is quite unlike any of his mates. He mourned the end of the season whilst a few of his mates breathed a sigh of relief. He went straight to the backyard to start practising again for next season whilst his mates probably kicked footballs against the fence. I just can't see this happening in the Colombo of my youth where there was never even a suggestion that cricket needed an 'off season'. It wasn't necessarily structured games of organised cricket but backyard/laneway battles that raged all evening until darkness descended and we reluctantly straggled home, swatting mosquitoes with imaginary pull shots.

Australia's strength at the top level will always be strong. There's too much money in the system for that not to happen amongst the top cricketers in the country. It's lower down the ladder where our lack of depth will be exposed. Perhaps no one outside the country will ever see this because all they see is a national team that will always be competitive. Looking at the way junior cricket is played (and coached), I fear for the long-term future of of the lower rungs of cricket.

Despite my pessimism in this narrow sense, I can still see blue sky. Through sheer chance, I came across an unassuming chap called Cameron Tradell who runs a coaching business called Sweetsport. I watched him coach my 7-year-old son, listened to the way he simplified everything down to the most basic level and then saw some amazing results within the hour! It humbled me that there are coaches who come to the game with no great reputations as elite players themselves but still manage to cut through to young kids. His coaching techniques were so simple as to almost be "why didn't I think of that?" but the truth is that I've never heard anybody else quite communicate with young children like he did.

There are other coaches like Cameron around the country who volunteer their time and wisdom in hidden corners, often unnoticed and unheralded. The system will probably never discover them because they fly under the radar without blowing their own trumpets and without attracting the attention of the cricket administrators who often miss these talented coaches. Parents like me who have played a decent level of cricket tend to dominate junior coaching roles without anyone ever questioning whether I can translate my own cricketing knowledge into a language that youngsters can understand. In one hour, Cameron made more progress than I was able to achieve in three years. It served as a humble reminder that the best talent, players or coaches, are often found by accident, in environments that have a love of cricket that transcends politics, parents and over-administration.

Junior cricket, at my son's club anyway, is predominantly played in the V between midwicket and fine-leg. dominated by strong boys who can play the 'hoik' to every ball. Most bowlers at this age can barely get the ball to the other end without a few wides each over. A far cry indeed from the Azar Maidan in Mumbai where I recently watched a group of very young lads with impeccable batting techniques facing a bowler who bowled doosras on request! These Indian kids were probably not deemed "elite" and will probably never grace our tv screens but their rudimentary skills suggested that something (or somebody) has got to these youngsters at an early age and set them up with a framework that they can extend as their bodies grow stronger. Cameron Tradell was one of the few coaches who was able to get the message across to my son (and friend) that playing straight was a long-term goal that would outlast the temporary glory of scoring cheap runs exclusively through square leg. Try telling a seven year old that technique is more important than runs - this was the first time playing straight made sense because of the use of a unique bat that rewarded the boys for hitting the ball with a full face. It absolutely pinged off the sweet spot when they hit straight down the ground and all of a sudden, the hoik was yesterday's shot!

Ponting himself was a junior prodigy, brought up on a classical technique and clearly coached by someone who knew how to coach a kid properly. We are reminded today that soon he will no longer stride out to bat for Australia at number three, arguably our greatest ever in that crucial position. I don't think we'll ever see the likes of Ponting again in this country unless our junior cricket system can encourage kids who can bat for long periods and play straight. Not unless we can find ways to encourage coaches who can see the big picture and can find ways to communicate those simple techniques to young minds who cannot easily understand why a single to mid-on is less preferable to a boundary through square leg. That's the difference I see at the grassroots level between the Asian countries and Australia at a very young age.

Perhaps it has always been thus....perhaps we'll look back on the Ponting era and wonder if we'll ever see another batsman of his quality. Yes, Sachin Tendulkar is another special batsman but somehow, I expect those cricket-crazy countries, distracted by little else, to produce another Little Master again. I showed my son some footage from that maidan in India and his jaw dropped. And then he picked up his rugby ball and walked out the back door. Cricket season finished - time to move on. Et tu Ponting.

Australia captain Ricky Ponting described the pitch at the Premadasa Stadium in Colombo as rolled mud © Getty Images

Every time a pitch on the subcontinent spins a bit, it apparently devalues the integrity of cricket. It seems that "good" cricket should only ever be played on fast, bouncy, batsmen-friendly pitches that start to spin a little bit very late in the game. Anything other than that, if it's played in the subcontinent, is not really cricket. Apparently. Especially after Shane Warne retired.

Ricky Ponting's thinly-veiled swipe at the pitch at Premadasa Stadium in Colombo is the latest instalment in that line of reasoning. Likening it to "rolled mud" is another (polite?) way of saying that it was unfair or doctored or against the way cricket should be played. To be honest, I haven't watched a ball of the World Cup yet but after reading these comments, I took a good, hard look at the scorecard from the match and then watched the replay before I wrote this piece. From that limited perspective, I have these arguments to put forward to advocate for more pitches like this in world cricket.

Firstly, as Ponting himself admitted, the Sri Lankans "had a pretty good idea that it was going to be that slow and low and was going to spin a fair bit, hence the reason they played their spinners." Duh! So what's the problem with that Ricky? You could choose to play all of your spinners if you wanted to. You are allowed to nominate your team before the toss, you know. Oh that's right, you went into a World Cup campaign on the subcontinent with a predominantly fast bowling attack and a spinner (Krezja) who was chosen after all the other options had been exhausted. And that's somebody else's fault?

Apparently this pitch was going to be difficult to chase runs on. Can't recall any mention of "rolled mud" before the toss, can you? They spun the coin, Sri Lanka won the toss and all of a sudden, it becomes a problem. I thought that's why we toss the coin in the first place; to allow the winning captain to make a decision on what he'd like to do first. Is that totally unique to this World Cup on the subcontinent too? The captain who wins the toss has never had an advantage before in any game of cricket?

Apparently this pitch was going to be difficult to chase runs on. Can't recall any mention of "rolled mud" before the toss, can you? They spun the coin, Sri Lanka won the toss and all of a sudden, it becomes a problem. I thought that's why we toss the coin in the first place; to allow the winning captain to make a decision on what he'd like to do first. Is that totally unique to this World Cup on the subcontinent too? The captain who wins the toss has never had an advantage before in the game of cricket?

Let's look at the way the game itself panned out before it rained. Sri Lanka were 146 for after 33 overs with a batting Powerplay still up their sleeve and two batsmen well settled at the crease. It would not be inconceivable to surmise that they might have scored 250+. Not the sort of pitch that could be called a "shocker" then. Perhaps it might have been a shocker if you had poor spin bowlers or your batsmen were poor players of spin bowling but for a well balanced team (like the three-time World Champions surely are), 146/3 in the 33rd over with a Powerplay still to come is not quite the diabolical state of affairs that I envisaged when I first saw the "rolled mud" comments and rushed to check out the scorecard.

Of the three wickets that fell, the first (Dilshan) was an ambitious drive to second slip after a period when the 'red mist' had descended on the batsman and he was flaying at anything. Good bowling on Tait's part but hardly the sort of wicket that could be attributed to the pitch. The second dismissal (Tharanga) was a slashing cut shot off Lee brilliantly intercepted by Smith at point, again hardly something that could be blamed on the pitch. Jayawardene's run-out was due to another piece of Smith brilliance. Can't blame the pitch for this one either.

From this point on, Sangakkara and Samaraweera put on 71 in approx 17 overs (with no Powerplay) until the heavens opened up. The Australian spinners, Krezja and Smith, bowled 12 overs and were not able to get a single wicket. Sure, the ball turned appreciably and it was clearly a pitch that would have suited any decent spin bowler but the facts are that not one of the dismissals could reasonably be attributed to the pitch or to the spinners. Rolled mud? I was expecting to see a scorecard that had Sri Lanka at 130 for 7, perhaps with Krezja, Smith and Hussey running through the top order. Instead, it looked suspiciously like a total heading towards 250 and an engrossing evening's cricket with fine batsmen like Shane Watson, Ponting and Michael Clarke batting against high quality spinners like Muttiah Muralitharan and Ajantha Mendis. How is that not good cricket?

Which brings me back to my original point of what constitutes a good cricket pitch? Is it only Perth, Brisbane, The Oval and Johannesburg that qualify in this category? What happens when teams get bounced out on these sorts of decks, unable to cope with seam, steep bounce and a lack of skill to execute horizontal bat shots? Would it be true to say that this was a "cow paddock" or a "savannah" with too much grass on it? Would both teams not have the chance to choose their teams before the toss and then play according to the conditions? Have home teams never prepared pitches that suit their strengths? Or does that only happen in the subcontinent?

I recall way back in the 1980s when the West Indians were nigh on unbeatable and no one could match their pace attack. Australia prepared two turning tracks at the SCG in the 84/85 and 88/89 series and gave them a good hiding. Murray Bennett and Bob Holland, those legendary spinners, took 15 wickets in one of those matches whilst those other notable spin 'greats', Allan Border, Trevor Hohns and Peter Taylor took 18 of the 20 West Indian dismissals that fell in the 1989 fixture. The only wicket to a fast bowler went to Merv Hughes. As a young boy watching those Tests, I rejoiced, not only in Australia's victories but also at the sheer enjoyment of watching a different style of cricket to the usual fast bowling battery and the way batsmen had to adjust to different conditions. Ponting would only have been a mere lad then, more engrossed in rolling in the mud than worrying about "rolled mud".

I've lost count of the number of times we have skittled the Asian teams, sometimes even England and New Zealand (and recent West Indian teams) on pitches that were so suited to fast bowlers that the spinners never even warmed up (if in fact we even selected any spinners on such pitches). No complaints then that teams went into the match with more than two quicks! So what if a pitch is expected to spin and Sri Lanka selects three spinners? Does that somehow devalue the contest? As Tendulkar was once alleged to have said "if it spins, does that mean it is not Test cricket?"

What about the famous Mumbai Test Match in 2004 (Test #1720) when Australia collapsed chasing a modest 107 runs to be all out for 93? For 90% of that match, when they were on top and renowned spin bowlers like Nathan Hauritz and Michael Clarke were cutting swathes through the vaunted Indian batting line up, there was no talk of it being the "shocking pitch" that it was later described as. In the very next Test Australia played, they demolished NZ for 76 in Brisbane (Test #1721) and a few weeks later routed Pakistan for 73 in Perth (Test #1726). I don't recall either of the touring teams making disparaging comments about the pitch being a "goat track" or an unacceptable green top. They manfully accepted that they were playing away from home and were "touched up" by a far superior team who knew how to play those conditions much better than their techniques could handle. Isn't that just good cricket?

So for the rest of this World Cup, can we simply accept that it might just spin a little bit (surprise, surprise) and the winner of this tournament will be the team that reads the condition best, selects an appropriate XI for that match and can then execute skills to suit those conditions? Australia has the skill to win this event but let's just hope we do it with a bit of grace and an acceptance that the conditions may not necessarily be like what we're used to back home. Did we seriously not think the pitches might turn a bit in this World Cup? Is that why we went the high-risk strategy of selecting a squad with lots of fast bowlers and one specialist spinner? Did no one tell the selectors (or Ricky) that this World Cup was being played on the subcontinent and there was a rumour that it might favour spin bowlers? Was it that much of a shock that the Premadasa pitch was dry and suited the home team's strengths? Just think back to Sydney 1989, West Indies and Border's 11/96 before we whinge too much about home ground advantage.

Rolled mud indeed! When the opposition is 146 for 3 in the 33rd over and your spinners haven't been good enough to get a single wicket, it's not the ideal time to throw your toys out of the cradle Ricky. Or your protector at the TV set!

Steve Waugh was a firm believer in what he called "mental disintegration" as a means of upsetting the opposition © Getty Images

At a time when Australian cricket is going through a bit of a soul-searching period, it is a good time to ask some questions about the long-term health (viability) of a sport like cricket in a country that, unlike the subcontinent, has many competitors for hearts and minds. The Australian Sports Commission have commissioned a report into sport that was highlighted in the Weekend Australian yesterday. Revealingly, the headline is entitled "Ugly truth of Australian sport" and the synopsis paints an interesting, perhaps even disturbing, picture of the landscape of sport in this country, especially in relation to the juniors who are at the at the very heart of our long-term future.

Specifically in relation to cricket, the report suggests that 97% of cricketers have experienced sledging at some point in their careers. Whilst past generations of Australian cricketers, even at club level, have shown a cultural tendency to view sledging as an entirely normal part of the cricketing experience, I am not so sure that this indifference will continue into the next generation with the same casual shrug of the shoulders and the promise of a beer afterwards in the change rooms.

Well, to begin with, it is now increasingly the case (in the cities anyway) that cricketers rarely tend to sit in the dressing room for hours afterwards, sipping a beer or three in their jocks and swapping tall stories, jokes and local cricketing folklore. The young lads that I play with (and against) tend to switch on their mobile phones as soon as they enter the change rooms after play and make immediate plans to meet friends at another location. I cannot think of the last occasion when they even stayed long enough to have a shower after the game. It's the modern style of social interaction and I have no issue with it but it is a significant shift away from the 'dressing room culture' that has long been a part of club cricket in Australia (perhaps elsewhere too). Perhaps bush/country/regional cricket still enjoys that sort of old-fashioned camaraderie where it becomes slightly easier to embrace the notion of "what happens on the field stays on the field". That philosophy has long been at the cornerstone of the Australian defence of sledging and until recently, that has generally been a system that has worked.

I have an inkling that this culture is about to change sometime soon and I suspect Cricket Australia will need to have their finger on the pulse to monitor this changing heartbeat and design a system that can cope with this cultural shift. To be fair, most of the cricketing authorities are already aware of the need to create a slightly less hostile environment for cricket, as evidenced by numerous 'spirit of cricket' type programs being implemented at the grass roots level. One local competition near Brisbane even has a 'red card, yellow card' type system to deal with verbal abuse and other unpleasantries. In its infancy, these programs are still more symbolic than anything else - I haven't seen anything (yet) to suggest that the umpires or administrators are enforcing these rules to any great extent but at least they are aware of the need to move with the times and have started moving in the right direction. Major cultural shifts like this take time and cannot be expected to happen overnight.

Anyone who has followed my blogs will know that I have always argued a consistent position against sledging, verbal abuse, mental disintegration etc so there's nothing new in my opinion on this issue. Previously, I have copped a lot of flak for being out of touch with the generation of cricketers I played with and to be fair, I have to concede that generally speaking, I was in the minority. I was often out of step with the general consensus that sledging was simply part of the game and that it was merely another tactic to get the better of your opposition with no malice intended. I'll stick to my guns and state my view that I think it's unnecessary and in poor taste but prepared to accept that I was outvoted in my era.

But the times they-are-a-changin' and I predict that Australian cricket will no longer be able to tolerate those frontier-style views of manhood in the politically correct, harassment-free, litigious and 'mum-power' driven junior sport culture that will soon graduate to men's cricket. For one thing, there are a lot more young cricketers from Asian families who are coming through the system. You've only got to read the cricket scores in the Sunday newspapers to see that trend emerging and generally speaking (and I am generalising here), those families are less accustomed to the traditions of "whatever happens on the field, stays on the field". As we saw when Brad Hogg referred to an Indian cricketer as a "bastard" and caused some offence, what is generally a low-level insult to some people can be escalated to a much higher plane to another person. We can beat about the bush all we like but that is the new reality of cricket in Australia, perhaps also in England, New Zealand and South Africa.

Family values too are now much changed from the culture that cricket flourished throughout the Ian Chappell, Allan Border, Steve Waugh and Ricky Ponting eras. Mothers are now playing much more prominent roles in deciding what sports their sons play, and this will have an impact on what behaviours they are prepared to tolerate from/to their boys. I can only speak from my experience as a parent/coach/manager in junior sport (cricket and rugby union) and from the many interactions I have with other parents, there is a definite paradigm shift in the powerful and influential roles that mothers play. The mothers I speak to simply don't understand the macho posturing that tends to excuse verbal abuse as a tactical ploy. Not used to the 'what happens on the field stays on the field' sort of excuses that men tend to hide behind, women (and an increasing number of men in the circles I move in) are questioning whether they want their sons growing up in an environment that condones this naked verbal aggression.

Again, I can only speak for myself and for the groups that I am involved in but we've had many conversations about what defines the new style of manhood that we want for our sons. We spend all week trying to get our young boys to behave in certain ways, use their manners, respect women/authority, not say anything that is unkind/cruel/hurtful and it would be utterly counter-productive for us to then encourage them to play a sport that promotes this as an essential ingredient to success.

As a group of parents, we are concerned about a society that has an increasing drug, alcohol and associated violence problem. We want our children, especially male children, to grow up in a world that is a bit more genteel and less prone to aggression and domestic violence. It's not necessarily a moral position - we just want them to be safe. The following excerpt from the aforementioned newspaper article summarises the issue:

"Verbal abuse -- mostly by players, spectators and parents -- was dissuading volunteers, and seen to be reflective both of the individuals themselves and of society generally. Sledging by players, and even spectators, was taking the fun out of sport, and was attributed to the culture of sport in Australia as well as the individuals themselves. Almost every cricketer surveyed -- 97 per cent -- had experienced sledging."

So why would we allow our sons to play a sport that runs counter to every other message every other minute of the day? I never want to hear my son swearing at an umpire or opposition player, I never want to hear him telling the opening batsmen that he's going to "knock his head off" and I never want to hear him laugh about the fact that he got the better of someone because he needled him about his weight, colour, sister's virginity etc. If that happens in my family, I will remove him from that sport and find some other activity to engage him in. And that's the new environment that I think Australian cricket administrators are going to have to contend with when designing long-term plans for the future of cricket for a generation of cricketers, some of whom haven't even been born yet!

Talent cycles come and go. It has been ever thus. We've lost the Ashes in 2011 but we'll get it back again sometime soon. The more salient issue will focus on whether cricket (and sport in general) can re-invent itself to appeal to a new world that still wants to win at all costs but somehow wants to do it without the aggro. I love the fact that more women now control that family dynamic because my wife (and the other significant females in my life) has already changed me for the better. When I come home and recount tales of sledging from the cricket field, my wife gives me sort of quizzical look that shrivels me and makes me feel like a little boy again. It's a silent look of scorn and pity that reminds me that my behaviour a few hours ago would not be out of place in a kindergarten.

With more single mums and females making decisions around sport, cricket will need to appeal to that market if it wants to retain a mass audience of young boys who will need mum's permission to keep playing the game. Otherwise, as the numbers filter through junior sport and the pyramid effect continues to narrow the funnel, through sheer weight of numbers, we'll never keep pace with the juggernaut that is already India, Sri Lanka, Pakistan and Bangladesh.

This report by the Sports Commission indicates that these issues are indeed a real concern for sport administrators in Australia. The Minister for Sport was even moved to comment that "we need to urge the general community to take a tougher standard against inappropriate behaviour". Be the change that you want to be Minister - perhaps you can convince your fellow politicians to show us the way forward with their daily behaviour in Parliament!

The sight of players getting on-field treatment has become a regular feature of modern-day cricket © Getty Images

A month away from the start of the World Cup, with no clear favourite emerging and all squads announced, I'm throwing out the form book and looking at the list of 'support staff'. I'm starting to favour the Contrarian Theory that the squad with the least medical staff, specialised fitness regimes and massage therapists will end up victorious. They might be the only team left standing!

The recent spate of injuries in the Australia and England sides is utterly baffling for two teams whose cricketers are totally full-time professionals. They have no other jobs, their every movement is monitored by a coterie of medical experts, their diets are specified by nutritionists and a team of masseurs work on their tender muscles all day long. They wear the latest in compression clothing, they wallow in ice baths, sports drinks are consumed by the gallon and yet … they keep finding new ways to miss games and new injuries. Has there ever been a more precious generation of cricketers who do nothing else with their lives except look after their bodies and yet are arguably the least 'fit' players of all time?

I'm not referring to 'fitness' in terms of their ability to run marathons or break records in an exercise physiology sense. I'm sure their fitness levels, as measured by machines and PhD students, would put the rest of us to shame. Yet, even humble club cricketers like myself manage to get through many seasons of cricket without so much as a single massage or gym session, without missing a game with an injury to a muscle that we didn't even know we possessed.

We get through our allotted overs comfortably, even without constant sports drinks, showers at lunch-time and changes of clothing. We arrive at a game with barely enough time to warm-up, having already umpired at junior cricket, mowed the lawn at home and made our own soggy sandwiches. When the ball gets smacked past the boundary, something I have become quite an expert on when bowling, I have to chase it all the way to its resting place, quite often in a dense clump of reeds that doubles as home to a family of irritated brown snakes. No boundary hoardings or ball boys to ensure the ball gets returned immediately.

Cricketers like me are hardly very talented, nor are we deemed particularly fit, but year after year, week after week, why is it that we don't seem to suffer the same ratio of injuries that modern cricketers do as a matter of routine. And it's not even my job anymore!

I speak slightly tongue-in-cheek because I know that professional cricketers these days have a higher workload and, of course, that puts more pressure on their fragile bodies, but I still think that they are now like Formula One cars that are capable of ridiculous levels of performance but utterly useless on normal streets. It's almost as if their bodies are now so protected and highly tuned that the slightest bump in the road damages a muscle group that the rest of us don't even have.

For a group of professional 'workers' whose sole occupation is to look after their bodies (with an army of medical experts to assist them), they seem to have a remarkable propensity to be unable to turn up to work fit and healthy. If the rest of the working population, many of whom have to endure hard manual labour or do extra jobs after work (unlike the cricketers who rarely have to mow their own lawns, hang out their laundry, do the grocery shopping or mop the bathroom floor), are as fragile as the modern-day cricketer, our national productivity would be shot to pieces.

How does Shaun Tait manage to injure himself when he's only bowling two-over long spells?
© Getty Images

I'm not referring to the freak Nathan Hauritz type accident where he lands awkwardly on his shoulder. These things can happen to anyone; likewise Ricky Ponting's broken finger. But how does Kevin Pietersen pull a groin muscle on the way to getting a first ball duck? Why does Shaun Tait (who claimed to be as fit as at any point in his career) hobble off with a muscle strain in the middle of his third spell; spells of only two overs each mind you!!! He's a professional athlete whose body is his livelihood and he can't be used in spells longer than two overs without breaking down? How does the medical staff justify that sort of 'preparation' in their KPI's? Imagine if a mechanic prepared a motor vehicle that could not be driven for any more than two laps without a break?

Tim Bresnan can't get through a ten-over spell - a normal day at the 'office' - without pulling a calf muscle. Is anyone holding the athlete or the medical staff responsible for putting out players on the park who are not able to get through a standard day's work without breaking down with the most basic injuries? Were they not warmed up properly, were their muscles not capable of performing standard tasks, did they not have enough sports liquids in their system to prevent cramping/dehydration/muscle fatigue? With all these 'experts', is anyone held accountable?

Their fitness levels are so poor that they cannot bowl 50 overs in the allotted time, despite having refreshments rushed out to them at the fall of every wicket. On Sunday, we had the ridiculous sight of a wicket falling in the first over of the match in Sydney and drinks being taken to the players during that break in play. Bowlers who've been told that they are about to start a bowling spell are unable to get warmed up in time to start their spell without delay - instead, they wait till they get to the top of their mark and then do more stretches and bowl a few warm-up deliveries to the fielder while the captain needs more time to adjust his field, despite memorising the computer-generated field placing for that batsman. And, clearly, it still doesn't stop them from getting injured.

Yes, they will argue that they train a lot more and there are a lot more demands on their body, but isn't that just a part of their chosen careers? They fly business class, they stay in five-star hotels, they have the best equipment and medical treatment that money can buy, they arrive at the ground hours before the start of play to warm up, they have ice baths and massages after play to help them recover as best they can. And yet, despite all of this, they still seem to be breaking down at a much higher rate than professional cricketers of yesteryear. Or else, they have a lower pain threshold and cannot (or are not allowed to) play through minor niggles. Maybe carrying their cheque books put undue strain on their tender bodies!

For that reason alone, I fear for Australia's World Cup campaign. Their bowling attack is liable to fall apart at any time with just about every bowler having missed long periods of cricket in the last 12 months with injury or fitness issues. Playing in the subcontinent in February and March will sorely test their fitness levels, especially now that we know that no amount of ice baths, sports drinks or exercise physiologists have any real impact on their ability to not get injured.

Many of their batsmen are carrying recent injuries (Ponting, Hussey, Clarke, Haddin, Marsh) and it's not going to get much easier in Chennai, Chittagong or Colombo. If the old rules of ODI cricket were reinstated, where teams who failed to bowl their 50 overs in the allotted time only received the number of overs that they had bowled at the prescribed finish time, Australia (and many other teams) would rarely get their full quota of batting overs, or they'd have to rush things so much that they'd get their field placings wrong, or the bowlers would be too fatigued to bowl effectively because of the rush to bowl 50 overs in the prescribed three-and-a-half hours. And these guys claim to be the best in the world?

Back to my original theory - I reckon the team with the smallest medical support squad and the most battle-hardened bodies might end up winning the war of attrition next month in the subcontinent. Clearly, the size of the medical team has very little to do with the fitness levels or injury prevention. So let's just dispense with the extra 'baggage' and see which team can handle the day-to-day rigours of playing tough cricket without falling apart in the dressing room, hotel room or department store. I mean seriously, how do you strain your groin after a first ball duck?

"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.

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.....

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!

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.

Does Test cricket have a future as a “live” spectator sport? © Getty Images

Crowd numbers and local interest would suggest that Test cricket is still in robust health in Australia and England, despite the fact that both countries are ranked mid-table. Compare that to India - the juggernaut of cricket, not just financially but also in terms of on-field performance - and if the modest crowd numbers in recent series are any indication, it appears that even being on top of the world does not guarantee anything remotely close to a full house. Stadium attendance figures alone do not tell the full story because it is clear that Indians still follow Test cricket with avid interest. But if a rampantly successful team with so many iconic ‘greats’ cannot attract spectators in India, does Test cricket have a future as a “live” spectator sport?

The Gabba Test rarely disappoints and whenever England or India visit here, you can almost guarantee that it will be well patronised. The current Ashes Series lacks the plethora of superstars - Ponting and maybe Pietersen apart - but that has not detracted from significant public interest in the event. Assuming Virender Sehwag, Sachin Tendulkar, VVS Laxman and Harbhajan Singh are still playing when India come here next, any cricket lover would be daft to miss them in action, especially because it may be the last time we see these legends in action. The question remains though: what does Test cricket need to keep spectators coming in through the turnstiles, instead of taking the soft option (like I’ve done this week) and watching it on TV or following it on Cricinfo?

Scoring rates are still pretty decent, certainly more entertaining than in any other decade. We’re consistently seeing more runs scored per day, so from an entertainment perspective, the batsmen are certainly doing their fair share to make it an attractive product. And yet, Australia and England apart, Test match crowds are spending their entertainment dollars/rupees/rands elsewhere. So who is letting the team down?

Fielding captains and bowlers can take some of the blame, I reckon. In an era where bowlers have never been fitter and captains have detailed bowling plans to adhere to, dictated by software and print-outs, the inability of just about every single team in world cricket to bowl their allotted 90 overs in 6 hours is nothing short of a disgrace. Where 90 overs was meant as a minimum requirement, it has now become de rigueur for teams to view the extra half hour as essential, and that too, just to complete the bare minimum. And the ICC just watches on in indifference. There can be no excuses. Fast bowlers are super fit these days, they have the latest in hydration, compression garments, ice baths, massages, footwear etc and they are still unable to match their ‘amateur’ predecessors of a few decades ago. Even teams with lots of spin-bowling options cannot bowl 90 overs in the allotted times.

Captains, armed with all the strategic information, courtesy of software-generated coaching aids, continue to have lengthy discussions with bowlers as if they’d only just thought of a new idea. Watching Ponting waste time on the fifth morning in Brisbane, at the start of the day’s play when they surely must have already discussed field placings and strategy was incredibly frustrating. And I was sitting in the comfort of my home, not feeling hot and bothered at the ground, having paid over the odds for a ticket in an uncomfortable seat with exorbitantly priced drinks and food and smelly toilets. Why would I catch public transport and endure discomfort to watch captains who are unable to make decisions instinctively without having to seek five different opinions?

The umpires just stand by and do very little to hasten proceedings. The ICC worry about the extra time that may be wasted in using video umpire technology and so implement a system where each team only gets a quota of referrals, but they do absolutely nothing to impose any genuine penalties on the pointless time-wasting that happens every single day of a Test match.

Meanwhile, we continue to endure a video umpire system that fails in its most basic task – to guarantee that the correct decision is made. Surely that should be at the forefront of the logic pertaining to the UDRS, to ensure that we get the correct decision. Otherwise, let’s just leave it to the on-field umpire and learn to live with the mistakes. The current system still hasn't eliminated the mistakes. As we’ve seen at the Gabba this week, Mike Hussey’s lbw was a potential match-changing moment and it was still the wrong decision. I’d rather waste a few more seconds to get the correct decision or just accept the on-field verdict and keep the game flowing. The current system is still essentially flawed if we're still getting crucial decisions wrong. The paying public would probably prefer the correct decision and sacrifice a few valuable seconds. The umpires usually halt play for bad light anyway, even when it's clear that the batsmen are in no danger of "physical harm", so why the great concern about not wasting time?

Here we are, in an era where we have entertainers like Sehwag, Chris Gayle, Tendulkar, Sangakkara, Ponting, deVilliers and a host of other swashbucklers, and Test cricket is still struggling to attract live spectators. Thank God for the Barmy Army, The Fanatics and those other faithful few from each country who follow their team around the world and bring the sort of spirit that I’m seeing right this minute as Alastair Cook celebrates a wonderful double-century. The quality of cricket and cricketers these days deserve more. Yet, for some reasons, in India especially, even with the mouth-watering prospect of watching a batting order that reads Sehwag, Gamhir, Dravid, Tendulkar, Laxman, Raina, Dhoni (and now Harbajhan), the public would still prefer to watch them from afar. If you can't get people to go to the ground to watch the number one team with this sort of pedigree, what will it take? Another reason why the Ashes should still be a terribly important part of the world cricket calendar. Even for the neutrals.

In a different era, Michael Hussey's Test spot would not have come under so much scrutiny © Getty Images

The last decade or so has fuelled a global desire for a higher standard of living that is less tolerant of what was deemed "acceptable" not so long ago. The rise and rise of the vast economies of China and India especially provide an insight into our modern expectations, demanding a materialism that would in some previous era have been seen as a luxury or an indulgence, a bonus even. The current debate around Michael Hussey's position in the Australian Test team reflects this new economic reality in some senses. It's a sign of the times, and perhaps a sign of the fact that bat dominates ball to such an extent that here is a man who is virtually averaging 50 throughout a reasonably long career and yet there are strident calls for him to be axed. Quite amazing really.

In times gone by, not so very long ago, a Test average of 50 was generally acknowledged as the benchmark for 'greatness'. The few players who inhabited this elite club were venerated and were pretty much left to pick their own swansong date. Sometimes, that moment was pressured ever so slightly be advancing years or a temporary form slump but it was usually the case that even when Allan Border, Mark Taylor and Steve Waugh were nearing the end and subtle hints were being thrown around, their standing in the game (and Taylor only averaged 43 but he was treated as a member of the 5-plus club), they were allowed to exit with dignity. Hussey may not necessarily be allowed that luxury which is more a sign of the times than a reflection of his legacy.

The sheer numbers of players averaging 50-plus in Test cricket are much higher these days. When I was a young lad growing up in the 70s and 80s, those in the club were revered as rare gems. I immediately think of Richards, Gavaskar, Boycott, Border, Miandad and Greg Chappell but I cannot readily remember too many more. No doubt I've missed a few notables but that's almost the point - these are the only names that readily spring to mind for me. Most countries had only one – maybe two if they were lucky – of these great batsmen playing at any one time. The modern game, despite higher standards of fielding and bowlers with more stamina and increased fitness levels, seems to be producing batsmen who average in excess of 50 with monotonous regularity, thereby creating an environment where a player like Hussey is under severe pressure to hold his spot. That sort of pressure only seems to happen in countries where the recent past has produced so many quality batsmen that when players start to show a form slump, the cricketing public are merciless. Players like Rahul Dravid and Hussey would be the first players selected in many of the teams who don't have an honour roll of these batsmen in their ranks.

I remember the times when to have just one black and white television in the house was an untold luxury, something to boast about at school. Now, my children are apt to complain if the satellite signal is temporarily disrupted or if they are forced to watch a DVD on any of the other four televisions dotted around the home. That's all they've ever known. That may be similar to the situation Hussey is facing now, partly a victim of a team that is going through an inevitable rebuilding phase but with public expectations that do not allow for this regeneration process. It is no doubt compounded by the fact that all of this coincides with an Ashes. Australians are less likely to be forgiving right now, such is the nature of a home Ashes.

Many Test playing countries now have two or three players in that club. India's top six are virtually all in that bracket, quite an amazing statistic really. No wonder that they are ranked No. 1. With that sort of pedigree, there should be a public inquiry if they weren't on top of the rankings. Sri Lanka has at least three batsmen who average more than 50, Australia's recent past is littered with batsmen who scaled those heights and South Africa have a couple already in the club with Hashim Amla and AB de Villiers not far from joining in. Depending on the current politics in Pakistan cricket, they could potentially have a few who fall into that category too. That leaves just West Indies (Chanderpaul apart), England, New Zealand and Bangladesh who don't have a top order full of 50-plus 'averagees'. Of those teams, I think it's reasonable to suggest that it maybe only England, who have a strong all-round unit, would spurn someone like Hussey. Jonathan Trott, who hasn't really played enough Test cricket to justify inclusion in this durable list, is the only current England batsman to average in excess of 50. Hypothetical question: if Hussey was not selected for Australia, would England happily swap him for say, Ian Bell?

Can anyone think of another Test batsman who averaged 50-plus who was actually "dropped" from the team, rather than being pressured to retire gracefully? I'm sure there will be some names thrown up but I can't think of any off the top of my head. Yes, I'm sure Pakistan cricket might provide a few exceptions but often, those non-selections were not necessarily based on pure form but also linked to various other power struggles and temporary splits in the camp. Even when Greg Chappell went through that horror patch in the early 1980s, there was no serious talk of dropping him and it was generally accepted that he would eventually come good. Great players always do.

Perhaps there have been the odd instances of players dropped temporarily, just to allow them to get a bit of form back, with an unwritten assurance that they'd be given the armchair ride straight back into the team when they found their mojo again. If Hussey does get dropped this time around, I'm not convinced that he will necessarily be given any such assurances. Not unless he repeats what he had to do in order to break into the team in the first instance - just score heavily in domestic cricket and force his way in when injury or some other unusual situation presents itself.

Personally, I've got a lot of time for Hussey, as a cricketer and as a person. I know him reasonably well from some dealings I had with him ten years ago and I can vouch for the fact that he is indeed a gentleman of the highest calibre. He may just be the victim of an era where Australian cricket demands a level of performance that may be unrealistic in the next few years, as they rebuild after a long period of churning out all-time greats. In any other period, Hussey's position in the side would never have been called into question but that's the downside of being at the end of a halcyon period. I'm not convinced Australia has the depth of batsmen that young India seems to have, to warrant throwing Hussey out just yet. The man himself must be hoping that Bob Dylan's timeless classic, The Times They Are a-Changin' will prove prophetic for him these next few weeks.

"Come writers and critics who prophesise with your pen, don't speak too soon, the chance won't come again."

Michael Clarke is not equipped to open the innings in T20 cricket © Getty Images

Can experiments go wrong or does the very notion of an experiment essentially mean that there is no right or wrong, merely the testing of a theory or method? Is it just a matter of learning from the experiment with no blame or recriminations attached? Australia’s T20 team tonight was deemed “an experiment”; on that basis, what have we learned from it and will it result in any lessons learned? More importantly, will the lessons learned actually be put into practice?

Some would argue that one lesson which probably did not even need to be tested was whether Michael Clarke has a future as an opener in T20 cricket. When I saw him walk out to bat with Dave Warner, I knew then that this was not a game that Australia was necessarily desperate to win. It was more about trying to justify his selection, in a media atmosphere that has been questioning his credentials all week. For a game that relies so heavily on power hitting in the first six overs, to open with Clarke is just plain stupid. He has never been that sort of player, much more adept at using his feet to the spinners and using quick wrists to manipulate the ball into gaps and running cleverly.

And so it proved....his inability to hit the faster bowlers over the top put pressure on young Warner too, and created the domino effect that led to a comprehensive thrashing. It’s not necessarily about being a big strong hitter – the Sri Lankan top order are hardly big men but they know how to hit through the field, if not over it. To bat Clarke at the top seemed like a pointless experiment (or a desperate effort to justify his selection) because it was never likely to succeed, nor is it likely that it will be an experiment that will Australia would ever persist with if they were dead serious about winning T20 games.

Look at it this way; even if Clarke scored a few runs today, would we seriously see him opening the batting at the next T20 World Cup? If he retains his place in the team, it will be because he is captain, not because of his powerplay hitting. He might be more than useful in the middle of the innings against the slower bowlers, but even that is not assured in a style of game that simply doesn’t suit his repertoire. So why bother with the experiment at all? It made no sense. It’s almost as if they’re conceding that he doesn’t have the power game to muscle the ball over the fielders when the fielders are in the deep, so they’ll flirt with a slow start, wasting the powerplay, to compensate for that weakness. Surely a few net sessions with Clarke trying to smash the quick bowlers over the top would have sufficed to put this theory to bed?

Experiment # 2: if Australia is going to challenge in T20 cricket, they either need to stick with the quicks or play a different spinner. Steve Smith, admirable batsman and fielder that he is, cannot do what a genuine spinner must do to be worth four overs. Comparing Smith to say Suraj Randiv was like ....well .... well, no comparison really. Play him as a batsman if necessary, but Australia need either another genuine slow-bowling option, or five quicks. Picking a spinner for the sake of it makes no sense. Not when you’ve got David Hussey, Cameron White or Clarke himself who can fill in with a few overs of pretty much the same stuff that Smith is capable of serving up. Against good players of spin like the Sri Lankans, a token spinner gets treated pretty much like Smith was tonight – with disdain. Can we safely say we're done with that experiment now?

Usually, playing in Perth against an Asian side is a huge advantage to the home team. Except of course that this team contained no one with any real ‘home’ advantage factor! Picking a team full of Victorian and New South Wales players essentially evened up the odds against the Sri Lankans. In fact, if you didn’t know any better, you’d be forgiven for thinking the Sri Lankans were the team more accustomed to these conditions. In all disciplines, they looked so much more assured in these conditions. Who would’ve dared predict that some years ago at Fortress WACA?

Overall, as a spectator, I didn’t find too much to surprise me. Australia is a middling side in world cricket, going through a rebuilding phase, and without a genuine world class player in this format. Sri Lanka is an emerging force, playing intelligent cricket and led by a few canny and classy players who can execute plans. Fast, bouncy pitches are no longer a huge advantage to Australia in shortened games. And when Channel Nine hypes up something like this and cannot even bother showing it live to a Brisbane audience, it just goes to prove that T20 cricket is no more than another form of canned Sunday night TV entertainment, despite promotions and hyperbole to the contrary. If Australian cricket authorities and broadcasters continue to treat fair dinkum ‘internationals’ as experiments, they may well discover that some viewers may just switch channels. For a nation that is totally unaccustomed to playing sport with anything but a “must win” attitude, such experimentation will soon wear thin.

T20 cricket may well be the hottest new kid on the block but if you disrespect it too much, even this golden goose may stop laying eggs. It would be interesting to know whether viewer numbers in the major Eastern seaboard cities dropped off when it became apparent that the Sri Lankans were cruising towards an embarrassingly easy victory. At a time when the cricketing authorities are claiming that the future T20 franchises could be worth much more than some popular football teams in Australia, they won’t need to test this experiment again.

Notwithstanding Sri Lanka’s fine performance, there was little else worth remembering. Is that really the golden future of T20 cricket that is apparently this multi-million dollar investment? T20 cricket is not much more than packaged entertainment, here today, forgotten tomorrow, but what other ‘entertainment’ experiments with paying consumers?

The performance of openers like Sunil Gavaskar and Geoff Boycott doesn't dip in the fourth innings © AFP

My previous two posts have been focused on the theme of second-innings stalwarts, inspired of course by VVS Laxman's great knock a week ago. We looked at the eight most-prolific second-innings batsmen (minimum qualification: 2500 runs in the second innings) and tried to figure out some theories why. Nothing scientific, just cricket fans chewing the fat and doing what we love doing best - talking cricket with cyber friends from around the world!

In the last post, Satish made a very valid observation, that instead of counting the overall average of all second-innings runs for those eight players, perhaps a more meaningful comparison might be the breakdown between the third innings of a Test Match versus the fourth. Clearly, there are inherently different pressures when setting a target as opposed to chasing one and when you add the fact that the fourth innings is generally in the worst batting conditions of the match, Satish's point is worth exploring.

Here's what I discovered with those eight players who were on our original list.

Looks like Satish was 100% correct. Most batsmen clearly find it easier to score more heavily in the third innings of a Test. We know that pitch conditions are one factor and it would be safe to assume that the pressure of chasing a score (or saving a game) must also play it's part in bringing those fourth-innings numbers down.

The lower-middle order batsmen like Laxman and Allan Border have slightly lower averages in the fourth innings, presumably because the pitch is that much more unfriendly by the time they bat, quite often late into the fifth day. They're also likely to be facing more spinners at that stage of the game when the ball is likely to be turning out of the rough created by four-plus days of bowler's footmarks.

Interestingly, the only two batsmen who average more in the fourth innings are openers: Sunil Gavaskar and Geoff Boycott. Matthew Hayden's differential isn't much either, which perhaps lends credence to my original theory that opening batsmen were always likely to be the players who had the best averages in the second innings, mainly because I felt that they would often be disadvantaged by batting first on a fresh pitch, full of moisture and early seam movement on day one.

Clearly, Gavaskar and Boycott were also masters of absorbing pressure, as evidenced by the fact that they both averaged 10-plus more in the fourth innings. Perhaps their tight technique and risk-free style of batting lends itself to batting last on a 'tired' pitch. I can't remember watching them bat on TV so I can't offer comment on whether they played late or with soft hands or with short backlifts or any other technical adjustment that would help them to score so prolifically in the final innings. Perhaps some older bloggers who remember watching them bat can offer some insights into whether they changed their technique or approach in fourth-innings run chases.

In terms of centuries, Hayden seems to have the biggest difference, but this could be explained by the fact that in his era, Australia often had just a few runs to chase in the fourth innings to win matches and he did not have the opportunity to make big scores.

One final reason why Gavaskar and Boycott may be the only two on this list to average more in the fourth innings - they are both right-handers. Could this be attributed slightly to the fact that it must be a lot more difficult for left-handed batsmen late in the game because of the amount of rough outside their off stump? Generally speaking, there would be a lot more 'traffic' in the channel outside the left-handers off stump because of the right-arm over the wicket bowlers and this was bound to have resulted in a pretty scuffed up danger area for left handed batsmen. Just a thought ... it may be nothing more than coincidence but worth a debate anyway.

Pitch conditions apart, we shouldn't discount the mental strength necessary to score so heavily in the fourth innings, under immense pressure no doubt. You can't read too much into this statistic though, because when it comes to the player with the biggest gap between third and fourth innings averages, Border heads this list. And one thing that was never in question was his mental toughness or courage under pressure. In fact, the tag of the biggest 'choker' must surely belong to The Don - he averages 130 in the third innings, dropping to a mere 73 in the fourth innings. Clearly an underperformer.

My seven-year-old son just read this piece and gave me a quizzical look that suggested I might consider more useful activities on a rainy day in Brisbane. Like bowling to him on the verandah for example where a cover drive that bisects the pot plants are worth two runs but a careless pull shot that hits the slumbering Labrador on the full is not only out but calls for a new ball for the fourth innings. The blank look on his face when I asked him about statistics reminded me of this old quote:

You're trying too hard to find a correlation here. You don't know these people, you don't know what they intended. You try to compile statistics and correlate them to a result that amounts to nothing more than speculation. - Marc Racicot

Jacques Kallis: doughty and dependable © Associated Press

In my most recent post, I 'fluked' the Laxman prediction and it opened up some dialogue that deserves a follow-up piece. The raison d'etre behind writing the original story wasn't really meant to be a prediction; rather, it was intended to explore the unusual phenomenon of batsmen who buck the overwhelming trend and average more in the second innings of Test cricket. The sheer luck involved in predicting Laxman's great innings was almost accidental. A few tongue-in-cheek comments suggested I must be part of the match-fixing mafia and I smiled at the suggestion, all the more since this was one of the few times I had no wager riding on it!

Today's article is about following up on my promise to a few bloggers who were keen to explore the question of which great batsmen average more in the second innings than the first. More importantly, can we suggest any reasons why that may be the case? Thankfully, S Rajesh, in his customary style, ended up doing my homework for me by writing an insightful piece which listed the top 8 batsmen of all time in that category. So let's check that list out again.

My initial hypothesis was that I figured a few of the players in this list were likely to be opening batsmen, especially players who played a lot of cricket on pitches that would have been difficult to bat on the first day of a Test match, thereby creating a situation where their second innings average, on slightly flatter, drier surfaces, was likely to be inflated in comparison. I think it may be fair to extend that to include openers and No. 3 batsmen because they tend to be in pretty early on 'fresh' pitches that need enough moisture to last five days. Looking at those eight players listed, most of them batted in the top 3, even Laxman at the start of his career. So that theory may have some substance to it then?

What strikes me as curious though is that the two greatest batting allrounders of the game are right at the top of that list. Yes, Jacques Kallis has batted at 3 for most of his Test career so that is in line with my first theory, but when you consider that both Kallis and Garry Sobers would already have done some bowling in the match (and in Kumar Sangakkara’s case, wicketkeeping), their improved performances in the second innings is a great credit to their fitness levels.

Kallis, especially, is worthy of mention because he so often gets unfairly shaded when compared to the peerless Sobers. Looking at Kallis' numbers in all aspects of the game, including ODIs, I think we'll look back on his career and retrospectively realise that he was one of the genuine 'greats' of the game. I just hope that the cricketing world, not just the South Africans, savour the twilight of his career because I doubt we'll see a player of his calibre (and durability) again in the modern era.

Back to the original theme, it seems then that Kallis' place at the top of that list can be attributed in part to his resilient and unflinching style of batting, rarely flamboyant, but utterly dependable and risk-free. Well, in Test cricket anyway. He can shift gears seamlessly when necessary but I think it is a fair comment to say that his game is built around a rock-solid foundation of eliminating risk. I never saw Sobers bat but the legend around him paints a picture of a very different kind of batsman, much more carefree and flowing. For those who remember his batting, was that really the case or are they over-romanticising the aura around the great man?

No surprises that Allan Border is somewhere in that list. His entire reputation (perhaps unfairly) was built around his tenacity and courage with his back to the wall, and with a fair bit of his career played in a relatively weak Australian team, it's no surprise that rearguard efforts in second innings have boosted his average. What may surprise some people, though, is that AB was a fabulous attacking player in his own right. I played club cricket with him at Valleys CC in Brisbane for many years and at that level, free of the burden of responsibility (and not having to deal with Ambrose, Walsh, Holding, Marshall etc), AB's ferocity in attack was awesome to watch. Had he played in the modern era, behind a dominant top order, we might have seen another dimension to his batting. He was that good!

Matthew Hayden's inclusion on that list just proves that you don't need to be the traditional style of opening batsman to feature in this analysis of second-innings champions. Both Sunil Gavaskar and Geoff Boycott were from a different era and a different tempo, much less Haydenesque in technique and strike-rate. Boycott certainly would have batted on many pitches that were 'unfriendly' on the first morning of a Test match, hence it is no surprise that he cashed in heavily when he got a second chance. Gavaskar would probably have played many back-to-the-wall innings for India early in his career, again creating opportunity for long second innings that might even have left him carrying his bat. Again, while my boyhood memories of Gavaskar were those of a brave and courageous grafter, friends of mine who played with him at the Ranji level speak in awe at his ability to rip into attacks with savage intent.

Sangakkara's presence in the list is another surprise to me, only because I would have expected a wicketkeeper to be fatigued by the time he bats in the second innings. The only valid reason I can come up with is that he must have had a good look at the bounce and movement off the pitch by the time he batted in the second dig and this must surely have helped, along with lashings of talent!

Another theory I had for this second innings phenomenon was that it might feature players who batted a lot in venues that are traditionally tougher to bat on first thing in the morning, hence the second innings was likely to be more productive because it could happen at any time of the day. The dew in Sri Lanka is a known factor, Brisbane (and many Australian pitches) are notoriously hard work until lunch on the first day and I'm assuming South Africa is very similar to explain Kallis' average. I suppose, even in India, going back to Gavaskar's days, the new ball on a fresh pitch might have been the biggest threat, especially for someone like Gavaskar who was a fabulous player of spin bowling.

Enough guessing – I am keen to hear your opinions on these theories. What would also be interesting would be to see what the comparison of second innings aggregates and centuries are for these batsmen. Is their average inflated slightly by not-outs in the second innings (less likely in the first innings for obvious reasons) or have they genuinely churned out big runs batting last? Not that it's meant to be a criticism. It's hardly Laxman's fault that his last 7 second-innings efforts have been 124*, 61, 51*, 69*, 69, 103*, and 73*. Perhaps we can convince Rajesh to do his magic on Statsguru and give us another brilliant insight into this fascinating picture.

As for the greatest batsman of all time, Sir Donald Bradman? He did not make the list since he narrowly missed the 2500 runs cut-off but, for the record, he probably has the biggest gap between first and second innings averages of all. 97.85 in the first dig, 104.50 in the second. So that lays waste to any suggestion that the truly great players score heavily in the first innings, setting up the victory. Mind you, an average of 97 in the first innings is always a handy start!

VVS Laxman's second-innings average is better than his first - a rarity for batsmen © AFP

With a fascinating final day's cricket in prospect in Mohali, it will be hugely interesting to see if India can defy the law of averages and chase down this target of 216. History suggests that chasing runs in India is not the easiest proposition, even with the greatest batsman of our time still at the crease and looking very solid. You'd think that if there was one batsman in the world who might be able to achieve this feat, Sachin Tendulkar might be the first name that springs to mind. Yet, intriguingly, if batting average is meant to be any sort of guide, India's salvation may be on the back (literally) of one of the few players I can think of whose second innings average is actually superior to his first innings one - VVS Laxman.

Tendulkar, like just about every other stellar batsman in Test cricket, has a significantly higher average in the first innings. Encouragingly for India, his recent performances in the second innings have been much improved, so this may provide some comfort for nervous Indian fans this afternoon. More encouragingly, Laxman is actually one of the very few players in history who has a higher batting average in second-innings digs so if his back spasms can be managed effectively, India can still dream of glory. And to make matters better, MS Dhoni's numbers show no significant variation between first and second-innings averages so that too augurs well. (Click here for first-innings averages for Indian batsmen who've played 40 Tests or more. Click here for second-innings averages.)

Clearly, throughout history, there has been obviously a massive advantage for batsmen in the first innings of a Test match. In the subcontinent where heat and dust and soil conditions generally result in more uneven bounce and increased 'rough', thereby assisting the slow bowlers, one can understand why this may be the case. What surprises me, though, is that elsewhere in the world, particularly in say Australia, New Zealand and England, this trend continues to manifest itself. I would have thought, perhaps, that in some countries, green, seaming decks that dry out and become better for batting would help reverse this trend.

Perhaps opening batsmen would be among those most likely to see a trend reversal between first and second-innings performances. They often have to bat first on a pitch that needs to have enough moisture in it to last five days and this must surely balance out the times when the pitch is at its best on the first day. Looking at Sehwag's numbers, though, this theory doesn't hold out at all. His average almost doubles when you compare first innings averages to second innings ones.

I haven't had time to sift through Statsguru and try to find batsmen, especially openers, who can match the Laxman phenomenon. If any reader can name some exceptions, it would then be fascinating to figure out where they played most of their cricket and whether this can be attributed to my (unproven) theory that it must be as difficult to bat on some first day pitches as it is to bat on fourth or fifth day decks. If we come up with any names, I'll take a guess that these batsmen will most probably come from places like England, New Zealand, maybe even places like Brisbane and Colombo where the morning dew might make it really tough for batsmen on a fresh pitch which flattens out as the game progresses.

Must dash now and watch the cricket to see if Tendulkar, Laxman or Dhoni can turn this game around. Looking forward to some blogger responses, especially anyone who can take us back a few decades, to see if we can identify any clear patterns for players who have performed significantly better in the second innings. Surely Laxman can't be that much of a freak, can he?

How many people are in on the sting? © Sky Sports

I'm in the middle of a bad dream; Like Jekyll & Hyde, Romantic and Pragmatist share my cricketing soul whenever I think of anything to do with Pakistani cricket. Perhaps Beauty & The Beast is a more appropriate analogy, such is the magic of their style of cricket when everything is above board and the witchcraft that is now doing the rounds of the rumour mills once more.

When I heard of the latest allegations involving match-fixing, the romantic in me refused to believe that such dastardly deeds could possibly happen. Surely no one could be that greedy, that stupid or that mercenary to risk a nation's morale at a time when the whole world was rallying around Pakistan in its time of crisis. Last Friday, my local ABC radio station in Brisbane ran a concerted appeal to raise money for flood victims and by 3 pm, the tally was already pushing the $1.4 million mark. It was as if the darkest hour had passed and the rain clouds were about to slip over the horizon, only for this latest storm to engulf a nation for whom cricket might have been the source of some comfort during a period of pain. For that reason alone, the silly romantic in me refused to believe that any Pakistani cricketer would countenance any form of deception at a time when so many of his countrymen were facing ruin and collapse on a much larger scale than anything that cricket has to offer. Yet, cricket and life in Pakistan are almost too hard to separate at times. I recall the pain in the words of the bloggers at the time of the Sri Lankan team's shooting incident last year and it's clear that for many Pakistan citizens, the two are bound together in bonds of honour and national identity.

And yet, the cold, hard pragmatist in me felt ashamed to admit that this latest revelation did not shock me to the core. There was almost a sense of "here we go again". We've all heard the innuendo, taken some of it with a pinch of salt, swallowed what was left with an uneasy gulp and wondered if there could be this much smoke without a smouldering ember in someone's conscience. I remember the day when a Pakistani friend who was a professional in one of the English leagues told me in 1999 that Pakistan would lose to Bangladesh in a World Cup match. I just laughed at him and told him not to be so pessimistic until I realised (in hindsight) that he was speaking in pain and shame rather than with nerves or pessimism.

That was when I first started to question whether the players themselves were in on the game. I did my dough a few months later when I checked the long range weather forecast and backed a draw in Centurion, only to wake up and discover that Hansie Cronje had allowed England to chase down 249 to win on the last day, after forfeiting his second innings. I put that down to a sporting declaration gone horribly wrong until the truth emerged a few months later, honour washed down the drain along with Cronje's halo.

Since then, I've wavered between romanticism and pragmatism in equal measure. As a cricket purist, I've taken great pleasure in watching Mohammad Asif and Mohammad Amir these last 8 months or so, swerving the ball around corners and bringing the artistry of swing bowling right back into focus. Geniuses, both of them.

As a keen punter, the pragmatist in me has learned his lesson from bitter past experiences. In Sydney earlier this year, I backed Australia about an hour into the Hussey/Siddle partnership because I had this uneasy sixth sense that a miracle (or dark deed) was about to unfold. The bookmaker who took my bet laughed at me and said "mate, there's only one team that can win this game", to which I casually replied (not realising how poignant it would appear in hindsight), "I know but when that team is Pakistan, it's worth having a little flutter the other way". After the game, the same bookie called me and asked me if I knew anything. I laughed and told him that it was nothing more than a lucky guess with just an instinct for something that was not quite kosher.

A few weeks later, when Pakistan were chasing a low total in the Twenty20 game in Melbourne, when the two Akmal brothers were batting together for the first time all summer, I again backed Australia to win the game at long odds. Coincidentally, the same bookie took the bet and his sarcastic comment was "not another conspiracy theory again is it, mate?" I gave him the same logic, arguing that at these prices, it was worth losing a few dollars just in case the unbelievable happened. An hour later, the bookie called me and was no longer convinced by my genuine promise that I was relying on nothing more than gut instinct.

Winners are grinners of course. Just to prove I have no crystal ball, I backed Pakistan in that semi-final of the World Twenty20 a few months ago and lost my money when Mike Hussey smeared Saeed Ajmal out of the park. To be fair though, it's pretty hard to deliberately lose a game when someone bats as brilliantly as Hussey did that day. How can you fix that sort of result when you rely on someone else's brilliance to that extent?

I thought of backing England at 6/102 a few days ago but it was late at night in Australia, I fancied my warm bed and I didn't quite have that same gut instinct gnawing away at me. Looking back now, imagine the odds of England winning by an innings at that point?

Which brings me back to my source of confusion. If any of these latest allegations are true (and I'm still hoping that it's all a bad dream), how can it be possible for just a few players to be in on the scam? Surely it's all in or nothing, isn't it? If you look at the Sydney Test for example, it takes more than one fielder to drop catches to manufacture a result like that. It requires the batsmen not to miss a straight ball or get hit on the pads or lob a catch to another fieldsman or drag an inside edge onto the stumps. For that reason alone, I'd like to think that there was nothing sinister in that game, just an amazing innings from Hussey, some confused captaincy under pressure and a bit of panicky batting in the chase by Pakistan. To come to any other conclusion would be to necessarily believe that almost everybody was in on the sting and I simply cannot bring myself to believe that. And yet, my instincts kept telling me to have a little flutter on the rank outsider!

Way back in December 2008, I wrote a piece on 'live betting' that attempted to highlight the dangers of cricketing authorities becoming too close to the whole betting industry. I make my point again, this time with the benefit of hindsight. If this unholy alliance continues, some of the mud that is being thrown around will eventually stick. This time around it may be a hoax or a scam involving just one or two desperate individuals but if you sup with the devil, you will sip his poison too. And that's why I think it is irresponsible for national cricketing bodies (and broadcasters to a certain extent) to be in partnership with live betting agencies. Even if there is no fire, it may be perceived as a game of smoke and mirrors. Unlike Amir and Asif, they cannot even claim to have accidentally overstepped the line. They can't say they weren't warned!

In my dream, Romantic looks wistfully at himself in the mirror and recoils in horror at Pragmatic staring back at him, fistful of dollars in one hand, the other arm outstretched and the call of "no-ball" clearly heard above the drone of a betting company's blimp circling Lord's like a giant vulture, waiting to pick the bones of cricket's carcass.

A deliberate no-ball denied Virender Sehwag a ODI century against Sri Lanka © Getty Images

For a non-gifted sportsman like myself, frustratingly, golf and cricket seem to have diametrically opposed plans for me. Despite my best intentions, I tend to finish a round of golf having played far more strokes than is ideal. A regular round of 18 holes has me consistently beating Bradman's famed batting average, whereas in cricket I rarely ever fulfil the plan to play lots of shots or post a big score. I justify the golf score by convincing myself that I'm actually getting value for money by playing as many shots as possible but I can't quite come up with a good enough excuse for my all-too-regular low scores with bat in hand.

I've always felt that golf has so much to teach us about life and about cricket. What is most remarkable about golf is that it is utterly unremarkable that players are expected to police themselves, even when the truth is only between themselves and their conscience. It is a game that is entirely founded on integrity, honesty and manners, much like the way cricket was allegedly played in a bygone era. In golf, you count your own strokes, play the ball where it lies, penalise yourself even if you're playing alone or nobody's watching, bad luck is accompanied by a philosophical shrug, bunkers are raked, players keep quiet whilst their partners are playing - the list of good manners and etiquette goes on.

In the last week, where international cricket confronted a few unusual and delicate issues around the spirit of cricket, golf has just continued doing what it always does best - playing fair without even expecting accolades for it. We've had the Sehwag/Randiv/deliberate no-ball incident and it is to the credit of Sri Lankan cricket that they acted so swiftly to punish their own, even when the cricket world was split down the middle about the heinousness of the crime. I've read many of the blogs on the topic, including Sambit Bal's excellent piece a few days ago, and it's clear that whilst most people agree that it was a mean-spirited thing to do, it hardly ranks up there amongst the worst excesses on a cricket field in recent times. Yet, Sri Lanka Cricket, regardless of their motives (as some bloggers were keen to allude to), were proactive in salvaging some pride from an incident which they felt tarnished their reputation as upholders of the spirit of cricket.

This same week, a golfer at the PGA event in Whistling Straits penalised himself for an offence that no one else may have witnessed. It barely rated a mention - such acts of honesty are replayed hundreds of times every day on golf courses around the world, hackers and professionals alike. There is no allowance made for a major event as compared to a weekend thrash around some overgrown golf course. It's just taken for granted that this is the minimum expected of you when you walk up to that first tee, alone on a bush course in the outback or on front of a packed gallery at Augusta. It doesn't matter if the stakes are for the Ryder Cup or a quiet beer with only yourself for company - golf has managed to create a code of ethics that requires nothing more than a look in the mirror.

We've also had the unusual situation where Kyle Mills was given a "30 minute ban" for bowling a warm up ball on the pitch, a technicality which may have some good reason for existing but is hardly the crime of the century. If that constitutes a temporary 'red card', golfing enthusiasts must indeed wonder why some of the vicious sledging, head-butting, shoulder charging, spitting, ball-throwing at batsmen and appalling manners on the field is allowed to happen with a token slap on the wrist at a post-match hearing with the Match Referee. Whilst golf is essentially a singular pursuit, one still wonders why cricket can justify outright boorishness solely on the basis of pathetic excuses like "pressure, competitiveness, man's game, heat of the moment". Life itself is full of such pressures but we generally don't condone crude, rude and obnoxious behaviour because of it.

Can you imagine a golfer whispering to his playing partner that his wife/mother/sister etc was less than virtuous last night and then taking pleasure in the duffed shot that follows? That would be seen as tantamount to cheating, let alone the complete abrogation of honour and decency. Golfers would view that as a hollow victory, a moment not worthy of revelling in, their reputation on the 'circuit' damaged beyond repair.

Yet cricket often legitimises such gamesmanship, even go so far as to celebrate the exponents of these practices as being "hard men" who can mix it with the toughest of competitors. Their reputation on the circuit actually is enhanced because of it! I suspect that serious golfers, hardened men amongst that lot too, would be appalled that a sportsman could actually derive any pleasure from winning under those circumstances. What's even more ironic is that many cricketers who play their game with this so-called 'uncompromising' attitude can actually play outstanding golf as perfect gentlemen, thereby negating the very essence of their own argument that they need the adrenalin surge of the 'niggle' to bring out the best in them.

No one doubts that cricket and golf are totally unique and will naturally bring out very different physical and mental skills. Even allowing for that, it is almost a shame that the two sports, both of which are now hyper-professional (in fact, the money at stake in golf makes cricket look like a joke) have diverged so far from common values that were rooted in olde worlde manners and courtesies. It probably boils down to a cultural value set that is now so firmly entrenched in golf that it is now second nature to anyone playing that sport, at any level. It's almost become an unwritten rule of the game where to observe the rule is merely your duty whereas to transgress it would be a shameful act of treachery. And that's probably where cricket has moved away from its original reputation as a true gentleman's game - it is now the case where batsmen who walk when they nick it or keepers that don't appeal when they know it missed the edge or fielders who refuse to claim dubious catches are now celebrated as wonderful sportsmen worthy of special mention. In golf, that sort of behaviour is a moral obligation.

In the 1925 US Open in Massachusetts, the great Bobby Jones called a shot on himself for a moving ball. He went on to lose by a single stroke but was genuinely surprised by the fuss that was made of his honesty. "You might as well praise a man for not robbing a bank" he said.

That's just not cricket! Not today anyway. Perhaps in village cricket but not at the top. And I think the game is all the poorer for it.

India's team culture must be pretty strong to allow so many great players to finish their captaincy stints and return to the ranks © Getty Images

In my last post, I touched briefly on the traditional Australian way of selecting captains. The captaincy issue has now come into even sharper focus with the Shahid Afridi situation. Mike Holmans has written an excellent piece on that.

It might be interesting to buy a Round The World ticket and look at the cricketing world to see if we can explain (or hypothesise) why different countries have their own unique way of choosing captains and whether this reflects something about the culture of that country.

Starting with Australia, it's pretty much accepted that it's always been the Australian way to select the best 11 players and the captain usually emerges from that lot. There haven't been too many cases where a captain was brought into the team purely for leadership purposes. Bob Simpson did that in the late 1970's during the height of the World Series Cricket crisis but his performances did him no shame, despite being an old man. Mark Taylor's loss of form around the 1996-97 period presented a conundrum - had he not scored that career-saving century in the second innings at Edgbaston in 1997, he might have become a victim of that tradition. It's generally a pretty ruthless (and readily-accepted) practice so most Australian captains actually jump before they're pushed anyway. Even the great Allan Border was given a polite nudge when it looked like he wanted to hang on for a little bit longer. That's why Michael Clarke's position as T20 captain must be under severe threat - he's got the weight of history and tradition against him if he continues to fail.

I'm no expert on New Zealand but they seem to have a similar attitude to Australia. Most of their captains are chosen from amongst the ranks of the better players and they tend to enjoy relatively stable captaincy careers with loyalty and support from the troops. The only exception that readily comes to mind is in the mid 1990s when Lee Germon made his Test debut as captain! Otherwise, recent captains like Martin Crowe, Stephen Fleming and Daniel Vettori have all come from common ancestry; as the best players in the team, their leadership credentials are unquestioned by the rank and file. Again, this seems to be a very ANZ philosophy (apart from politics which recent history has shown to be anything but!). Leaders generally enjoy loyal service from the troops and if the leader senses that he is not amongst the best performing members of that team, he rarely hangs around long enough to feel the knives in his back. What do you reckon? Is that fair comment?

South Africa, since their re-introduction to cricket in 1992, seem to have enjoyed a similarly stable captaincy regime too. In almost 20 years, we've only had Kepler Wessels, Hansie Cronje, Shaun Pollock and Graeme Smith as long-term captains. There may have been the odd game here or there with another temporary captain but I can't think of too many. Again, that notion of clearly being amongst the first-picked in the starting XI is a South African tradition too. SA legends rarely seem to hang around until they get dropped. It seems to be a cultural norm that allows them to sense when the mood for change is ripe and they prefer to go of their own accord rather than being dropped at the end of a distinguished career. I've spent a bit of time in South Africa and have gained a bit of an understanding of their complex cultures so I'm going to suggest that it might have something to do with the 'olde worlde' attitudes and even the compulsory military service discipline that may contribute to this pattern. In general, I've found most South Africans extremely polite, well-mannered and disciplined, almost old fashioned in that sense. I'd be interested to hear from our South African friends on this issue of captaincy accession.

Zimbabwe is a difficult case to consider in the current climate but when they were a lot stronger in the 1990s, they too usually picked one of their best players as captain. There was usually little dissension in the ranks when Andy Flower, Alastair Campbell or Heath Streak ran the show. Strong characters, running a young cricketing nation with a frontier-style leadership theme.

Bangladesh is probably too young to comment on. I'm certainly not knowledgeable enough about their cricketing history to offer any educated guesses. Is it a pure meritocracy where the best player (or undisputed selection in the team) gets the captaincy or is there more to it in Bangladesh? If anyone with a knowledge of the politics and history of Bangladesh cricket can shed light on that, it would be interesting.

Speaking of politics, we move then to Sri Lanka, India and Pakistan. Like it or not, it is undeniable that captaincy issues are inextricably linked with politics and relatively unstable captaincy regimes. That's not necessarily to say that it's a bad thing. It just may be the style of that system.

Sri Lanka is clearly a cricket system that has significant political involvement but to be fair, the captains themselves have almost always commanded a place in the team without question. Recent memory fails to bring up too many captains who have failed to hold down a place in the team in their own right. The turnover has been reasonable but it's not the long reigns that Australia, NZ or SA tend to have. I can think of Arjuna Ranatunga, Aravinda De Silva (actually, was he ever captain?), Hashan Tillekeratne, Sanath Jayasuriya, Mahela Jayawardene and now Kumar Sangakkara in the last 15 years. That's not a ridiculous list of short dynasties but there has been some chopping and changing. Interestingly, the culture of all these South Asian countries allows ex-captains to keep playing in the team, even after they are deposed (or resign) as leader. This is an interesting phenomenon because it's generally something that the Aussies and New Zealanders are uncomfortable with. It's a bit like the leader of a pride of lions - once the big male gets deposed, he disappears into the sunset and is not tolerated in the new pride. You rarely see them hanging around for too long, skulking on the fringes.

In pure leadership theory terms, it has two possible interpretations. Firstly, you can lose a lot of knowledge and experience when the former leader walks away but perhaps they leave a strong legacy behind them. On the plus side, it tends to eliminate the 'bad feeling' of having a (possibly) disgruntled ex-captain still causing dissent in the background. To be fair to India and Sri Lanka, their team culture must be pretty strong to allow so many great players to finish their captaincy stints and return to the ranks for long and successful periods. The new captain seems to have the maturity and self-esteem to not feel threatened by a former leader. Tendulkar, Dravid, Ganguly, Kumble, Jayasuriya, Jayawardene - in their country's ranks, these guys are All-Time Greats and yet, they seem to be able to slip seamlessly back into the team without necessarily (or openly) causing any bad feeling. Perhaps that is a very 'Eastern' thing where old folk are venerated for their wisdom and knowledge and are therefore (rarely) cast aside in old age. Certainly in Sri Lankan culture, an old person is still seen as a figure of respect and the keeper of a store of wisdom. Until their death (literally or figuratively), they are still seen as the ceremonial head of the family even if they are no longer useful on a day-to-day basis. On the other hand, the Pakistani situation is less fluid in this respect.

I'm fascinated by the dressing room dynamics in the Indian team for example. So many great players, many of them ex-captains, and yet; they seem to operate as a relatively peaceful unit. Perhaps our Indian friends with 'inside knowledge' can shed more light on this. Is that really the case or is it a case of a duck swimming smoothly on the surface with the legs going madly under the surface?

Pakistan of course has no such mystery about their captaincy methods. I can't really figure it out myself because it seems to be such a tumultuous and dramatic process. Since Imran Khan finished his career, I've lost count of the number of captains and coups. Perhaps the Pakistani players are used to it and can put it behind them when play begins but I think their erratic performances have everything to do with the uncertainty of the captain's leadership tenure. They can be brilliant and awful in the space of a single session of play but it happens all too often to be purely coincidence. I know that the PCB is an overtly political organisation and perhaps this, more than any other reason, is responsible for the constant shift in loyalties and plans. Again, looking from the outside, it doesn't seem to be a particularly harmonious environment but that doesn't seem to get in the way of individual brilliance on a stunning scale. I've played against Pakistan twice in first-class matches and both times, it was hard to get a sense of who the captain was in the field. Everyone seemed to be having their say and it was a tense environment but perhaps organised chaos is just their way. For what it's worth, I think Pakistan play best under a very strong leader who almost rules with an iron fist. Imran is the obvious candidate but there were brief periods under Wasim Akram and Inzamam-ul-Haq when you got that sense of unity. What do our Pakistani friends think about this?

Moving north to England - that becomes a terribly interesting case study. I'm hoping Mike Holmans will post a rejoinder to provide a British perspective on this. From my perspective, England have almost been the mirror opposite of Australia. Or perhaps Australia deliberately tried to be the mirror opposite of the mother country, just to be perverse! England, until recently, have long enjoyed a tradition of picking a captain first and then crafting a team around him. And they've had great success stories to justify that too. Mike Brearley's 1981 Ashes triumph was a stunning case in point, ironically, inspiring the deposed Ian Botham to heroic deeds. There have been other cases too. The Cowdrey family feature in that list. Also, England teams don't seem to have much of a problem with ex-captains still continuing to play their role, long after their captaincy ambitions have been extinguished. Mike Gatting, David Gower, Botham, Kevin Pietersen, Andrew Flintoff and Graham Gooch are ready examples that come to mind. Again, that may have something to do with the County cricket system where it's almost seen as a job and players just slip into and out of teams on a daily basis. The bigger issue of selecting the captain first may come from the old Gentleman vs Players legacy or it may even hark back to the military where Generals and Admirals were chosen by the aristocracy and were "born to lead", so to speak. Looking forward to hearing a local perspective on that.

The West Indies is our final destination. I deliberately chose to finish my journey there. What better place to end this odyssey? Clearly, up until their recent demise as the cricketing superpower, the West Indies always thrived under a talismanic leader. Frank Worrell, Clive Lloyd, Viv Richards and Richie Richardson were undisputed legends in the dressing room, able to exert their charisma on a dressing room that was made up of many island kingdoms. It seems like a team made up of members from these tiny islands need a strong and inspirational leader. In more recent times, their choice of captain has still (generally) been one of the best players but even these guys find it difficult to shake off the yoke of their superpower history. Carl Hooper, Shivnarine Chanderpaul, Courtney Walsh and now Chris Gayle are fabulous cricketers in their own right but I keep waiting for another leadership coup (or voluntary resignation). Perhaps that's being a bit unfair on Walsh who was probably a benevolent and popular leader but because his reign coincided with the West Indies' fall from grace, he gets lumped in with that lot. I can't see the situation improving in the immediate term, not with the lack of depth, the inter-island rivalries and the constant battles between the governing body and the Players' Association. When you add the lure of the IPL to this mix, I can't see the leadership issues getting fixed anytime soon. Perhaps Gayle has the "cool" to pull it off but I remain unconvinced. Lloyd and Viv were as cool as they come but for some reason, they were cool because they weren't trying to be. They just exuded 'Lion King' status every time they took to the field. Mind you, that's a lot easier with a quartet of seriously fast bowlers at your disposal!

Anyway, I'm looking forward to seeing the responses and learning a bit more about the cultural tendencies that govern cricket leadership. These are all just theories so in the absence of anything scientific, it's all we've got to have fun with. For a day, we can all pretend to be philosophers!

Michael Clarke needs to rediscover his form in the shortest version of the game © Getty Images

Whichever way you look at it, Michael Clarke's reign as captain of Australia's T20 outfit must be under serious consideration. Let's look at it from a numbers perspective. Since his early days as a flamboyant strokeplayer, he has now modified his technique somewhat which has perhaps made him more reliable in the longer formats but has come at the expense of his strike-rate. His rate of scoring has dropped markedly in the last few years, despite predominantly starting his innings whilst some of the Powerplay overs are available to him. His highest score in a winning cause is just 37, and even that was chasing a mere 75 posted by India at the MCG in 2008.

What's also interesting is that he actually scores faster in games that Australia have lost. His overall strike-rate in losing causes is greater than in winning ones. I wonder how many other top-order players from the stronger teams score faster in games that their team lost. I can understand why lower-order sloggers may end up with that sort of anomaly, often not batting in comfortable victories but swinging blindly when the team is under the kosh.

It's dangerous to surmise too much from that sort of statistic because Clarke could argue that when there is less of a need for him to score quickly (i.e. winning), he eases off the accelerator, but when his team is up against it, he scores faster. His detractors however could counter that by pointing out that his average is almost 5 runs per innings lower in games Australia loses, which is quite a significant difference in a shortened innings.

In ODI cricket, he averages about 50 with the bat in games Australia wins but that drops to 29 when he's on the losing side. That sort of difference is probably consistent with most cricketers, unless they are from teams that lose much more often than they win or if they have a reputation (like Michael Hussey) for being good in a crisis. Actually, even that seems a bit too much of a chasm - I haven't got the time to do a comparison with other cricketers of Clarke's era but I'd be surprised if the gap was as much as 20 runs per innings.

The reason for this drop in scoring rate and boundary-hitting ability is probably part-technique related and partly attributable to a change in mindset. Without pretending to be an expert in the art of batting, just from looking at him on the TV, it seems like he's choking the bat a lot more these days, is a lot more hunched at the point of delivery with an upraised bat and most importantly, he seems to exclusively commit to the front foot. It means that teams can choke him up with the short ball and not being a natural hooker or puller, the boundaries are then that much harder to find.

Even in ODI cricket, I seem to recall him getting out caught at mid-on, mid-off and midwicket, choking that front foot swat that is more like a cross court tennis shot than a genuine pull. By restricting himself to looking for boundaries in the “V”, he's also hitting to the areas that are usually most protected. Unless he can find the beef to take on the boundary riders and clear them comfortably, like David Hussey, who also camps on that front foot, he will often find his hardest hits get picked up by the sweepers. Leaving aside the six hitters, if he needs to find boundaries, he'll probably need to hit the ball with power through point, square leg, midwicket etc. Someone like Mahela Jayawardene or Salman Butt comes to mind - they don't trade in sixes as much as the Chris Gayles and Cameron Whites of this world (to name but a few) but their boundary ratio is much higher than Clarke's.

But what might actually seal Clarke's fate quicker than any statistical analysis or amateur coaching assessment (mine) is history/tradition/custom. You see, it has always been the Australian way to pick the best team first and then find a captain from amongst that lot. Different countries, most notably England, have had different philosophies to this issue, but Australians have always prided themselves on the leader having to earn his place in the team without question. Even reading through accounts of war journals from World War 1 & World War 2, the Australian troops appeared to have less of an inclination to allow their leaders to direct operations from afar. It may just be the romanticism of war writings but you generally get the feel that the soldiers and their leaders would always be in the trenches together.

Clearly, if the Australian selectors are fair dinkum about pure performances and remain true to that long-established tradition, Clarke's future in international T20 cricket must be in severe doubt. I can think of at least one player in each State team whose domestic numbers would seriously challenge Clarke's record, although in fairness to Clarke, he has barely played any T20 cricket at domestic level. This is where not playing IPL might hurt his chances to improve his skills although it might now be the case that his asking price will be much lower at IPL auctions. And if he loses the captaincy, it's hard to see how he can then justify holding his spot on his pure batting numbers alone.

I've long been a fan of the way Clarke conducts himself with dignity and poise, through the Lara Bingle episode and then with his self-effacing comments after the T20 World Cup. Despite that, I must confess that watching Michael Clarke “Mark II” (since he returned to the side after he got dropped) playing limited-overs cricket is no longer the same pleasurable experience as watching the young dasher who debuted in 2003. His Test match batting is still very attractive, as evidenced by his excellent recent record and a couple of sparkling knocks on the 2009 Ashes Tour.

In ODI or T20 cricket though, his method seems to be very formulaic: chipping down the ground for one, nerdling it down to fine leg, pushing to the sweeper cover and occasionally going inside out over extra cover for the boundary. Yes, he bats in that middle period when that is what tends to happen in modern ODI cricket but so do AB De Villiers and Umar Akmal and Kevin Pietersen. When Clarke walks out to bat, I'm not expecting boundaries whereas if Ross Taylor or even Scott Styris for that matter, is at the crease, I may rely on them a bit less but you get the sense that anything might happen.

Clarke will have plenty of time now to put away his T20 strategies and focus on what he does best - playing Test matches. But it's only going to be a matter of time before that question has to be answered. I'm prepared to go out on a limb now and predict that he won't be in Australia's next T20 World Cup squad, as captain or player. Not unless the man can once more become a boy!

Certainly, it seems true enough that there's a good deal of irony in the world ... I mean, if you live in a world full of politicians and advertising, there's obviously a lot of deception.- Kenneth Koch

Watching the John Howard ICC fiasco from a neutral distance, one cannot help but marvel at the beautiful irony of it all. From the moment his nomination was canvassed a few months ago, it was almost inevitable that this was unlikely to be an election without controversy; nothing about Howard, overtly political and divisive figure that he is, love him, hate him, or in my case, utterly indifferent to him, was likely to result in a smooth succession to the ICC throne.

The ensuing debate in Australia has been even more ironic. Those in the pro-Howard camp have cried foul about the way in which his nomination has been derailed, bemoaning the fact that no valid reasons have been proffered, claiming some sort of national insult, even going so far as to claim hurt on behalf of our NZ cousins. As if the sensitivities of our neighbours across the Tasman have always been something we have keenly sympathised with! More irony.

The anti-Howard brigade have brought up his past, replete with references to past policies and personal views that he espoused when he was still a mere politician. They counter-accusations of a subcontinental power bloc against Howard by reminding the ‘old powers’ that they ran the game for nigh on a century and it is only fitting that the new economic powerhouses now control the sport. It is a valid enough argument but can we please then dispense with any
notions of good governance, best candidate, cricket's greater good etc and just accept that this is about who holds the balance of power. No shame in that - it's just a fact of life in the corporate jungle.

Howard himself, canny political beast that he is, must surely understand this better than anyone else. He must know that this entire affair has very little to do with what is best for cricket but is purely about boardroom games played by powerful men with self-important agenda. To the average cricket-fan, the real differences are made by the likes of committees comprising Michel Holding, Michael Atherton, Mark Taylor et al – decent men who understand the game intimately and try to legislate changes that actually change the game for the
better. This boardroom stoush is more about deciding which person presides over the regime that decides on billion dollar TV rights, World Cup bids and which committee men (and I presume it is mostly 'men') will sample the delights of the next corporate box. The ICC’s travel department are kept busy enough with booking first-class flights and six-star hotels without having to unduly trouble themselves with mere trifling on-field matters.

Of course this is nothing more than a political fight. Howard understands that. You win some, you lose some. Just be patient and wait for the next gravy train. NZ, gracious loser in the initial battle, swallowed their disappointment after losing the bitter nomination battle between Howard and Sir John Anderson and are now playing the game like grown-ups. Yes, they got rolled
by the Howard Team in the pre-selection but that’s history now. They have since backed Howard’s nomination but politics being politics, they themselves got rolled at the next stage of the political process. That's life. That's irony. Some would say...that's justice!

Surely Howard and his backers always knew this was likely to happen. Since when did the opposition ever have an obligation to telegraph their punches, provide valid reasons or keep pre-election promises? Howard himself carved out a great career doing just that. That’s politics. It’s not about right or wrong – life at the top cannot afford such ethical luxuries – this is about expediency, power and winning. This time, he's rolled the dice and lost but he's a hardened old warrior who'll move on to his next project soon. Perhaps a diplomatic posting in Antigua will still give him enough scope to watch a bit of cricket in comfort.

We’ve seen it just last week in Australian politics, on the opposite side to Howard’s former team. Kevin Rudd, supposedly the most popular PM in decades, could not even get through one term in office before he was rolled by his own deputies (one can hardly call them 'mates'). Shakespeare coined the famous “et tu Brute” to reflect the reality of all political battles, regardless of whether it applies to wars, famines, WMD’s or ICC elections. Deep down, why would Howard and Cricket Australia be so surprised by last week’s result? Surely they must have counted their numbers, kept an eye out for knives in the back and realised that it was no sure thing? NZ Cricket could have told them how it felt!

All this talk about needing valid reasons for Howard’s rejection and national insults and due process not being followed; that's just for the benefit of us cricket fans who honestly don’t really understand or care what happens in those ivory towers in Dubai. The reality is that new alliances will be formed, hatchets will be retrieved from shoulder blades and buried in Dubai's desert sands. There will be a few ruffled egos and talk of looking for scapegoats but the post-mortems won’t dare look too deep. No WMDs will be found here either!

My seven year-old son just walked into my office, read this essay over my shoulder and promptly asked me why politicians are the only people in society with the title of ‘Honourable’. Now that's irony!

England have the potential to become a force in one-day cricket © Getty Images

I've just returned from two weeks in South Africa, haven't been anywhere near a World Cup game, haven't been following any cricket results and yet ... I've got World Cup Fever! Yes, it's the round-ball game I'm talking about but with the little white one made of leather. I'm really looking forward to cricket's World Cup next year. It promises to be a genuinely open contest with just about every major country fancying their chances. At this stage, I'm prepared to go out on a limb and leave West Indies off that list but just about every other team is capable of winning the trophy. And isn't that what the World Cup should be about?

Chatting to the more football-crazy tourists in South Africa, while I was looking after some Australian clients on safari in Kruger National Park, you get the sense that the football World Cup is a genuinely open competition. Just about every team that showed up, barring the obvious long shots, seemed to believe that they could win it, judging by the self-belief of their supporters. Even allowing for obvious jingoistic (patriotic) fervour, their optimism appeared genuine. I suppose football, with tighter scorelines where a single goal could decide a game, is more open to that sort of scenario, whereas cricket will generally need more than one moment of attacking brilliance. It's harder to win a cricket World Cup with tight defense. You need to go out and play positively for 80% of the duration rather than nicking an early advantage and then defending stoutly for the rest of the match.

I can't say I was surprised to hear that England were 2-0 up in the ODI series against Australia. It's not that I think Australia are a poor side - far from it. They're obviously still one of the best teams going around but that's exactly the point - they're now one of the better teams rather than being a clear No 1. Unlike during the last decade or so, when they clearly justified their top ranking at World Cups, this time around they will have every reason to be optimistic (that's just the way Australian cricket teams mentally prepare themselves) but none of the other teams will freeze with fear. A healthy respect all round me thinks.

England are clearly one of the most-improved teams. They seem to have a versatile and athletic unit, not necessarily revolving around any one individual, although Pietersen is still the scalp that will be most treasured. South Africa must surely shrug off their bad luck at major tournaments soon and. with arguably the world's most in-form player in AB De Villiers and wristy players like Hashim Amla to complement their coterie of allrounders, they will feature in the final shake-up.

Naturally, the hosts will be among the favourites to make the last four (Bangladesh excluded). Local support, local conditions and good depth are valuable assets in a long competition. I honestly can't see Bangladesh going all the way but the way they played (in patches) in England suggest that they may cause more than one upset, perhaps doing enough to derail another favourite. It will be interesting to see if Muttiah Muralitharan can be as effective as he once was in these conditions. I get the sense that he is not feared in the same way, although that might yet work in his favour. Harbajhan Singh is bowling well but India will need some good support for him, or teams will just sit on him and target the likes of Pathan, Jadeja or Mishra. India's fielding too will be crucial to their prospects.

New Zealand are always dangerous in World Cups, although they seem to lack the genuine depth of world-class players to go all the way. In subcontinent conditions, though, if Vettori is in top form and with clever use of medium-pacers on 'tired' pitches at the end of the tournament, they pose a credible threat. They bat deep, if not with any world-class pedigree but if it comes down to a scrap, New Zealand will fight to the death.

Pakistan are the big unknown. As always. The pitch conditions should pose no problems for them. It might just come down to whether the team dynamic is going through a smooth phase during that period or if there is yet another upheaval, either in the dressing room or at board level. They have the players to win it but they will need to soon start shedding the "unpredictable, mercurial, hot & cold" sort of reputation. The professional game cannot indulge such excuses, even though that is often what makes them such an alluring side to watch. For Pakistani supporters, I daresay they'd prefer a more predictable and bankable commodity at the expense of the usual roller-coaster ride.

Australia, of course, will probably enter the tournament as joint-favourites and rightly so. Their natural competitiveness and adaptability has always been their World Cup strength, coupled with big-match temperament. They might struggle on the spin-bowling front but Nathan Hauritz has continued to improve and they may yet be able to plug that gap effectively.

The reason I'm prepared to write off West Indies this early is because I don't think they have the depth of all-round talent to go even half the distance. Dwayne Bravo is probably their only genuine allrounder (especially now that Chris Gayle is reluctant to bowl 8-10 overs) and even their wicketkeeper bats too low and poorly when compared to just about every other team. Sure, Gayle might explode and win a game off his own bat but I don't think you can get to the last four on his relaxed shoulders. And their middle order plays spin too poorly.

Ironically enough, with all the exciting young talent coming through, it might still prove to be a World Cup decided by the one of the veterans. The peerless Sachin Tendulkar looms as one of the best bets for highest runs scored, Ricky Ponting is still the Australian wicket most prized and Mahela Jayawardene is probably the danger man for Sri Lanka. Many of the other top batsmen are not young men - Virender Sehwag, Pietersen, Brendon McCullum, Gayle, Jacques Kallis, Kumar Sangakkara, Shivnarine Chanderpaul and Michael Hussey are closer to the end of their careers than the start. For some, it might be their last World Cup. Pakistan's batting talent seems to be in the hands of relatively young men. Umar Akmal and Salman Butt will need to score heavily for them to feature in the final wash-up. England too have a couple of young lions in Eoin Morgan and Craig Kieswetter who may provide a good foil for their older players.

Just as the 'other' World Cup nears its climax, I can't help but feel excited about the cricket version in 2011. It will make these next few months all the more interesting. Instead of watching meaningless ODI's that merge into anonymity, I'll be keeping an eagle eye on the form players and adjusting my predictions accordingly.

Coming through Johannesburg's international airport, there was a real sense of atmosphere in the air. Even when Bafana Bafana were eliminated in the first round, the locals shrugged their shoulders and kept smiling. They played the role of perfect hosts even in the face of disappointment. Sri Lanka, Bangladesh and India have always been renowned for their warm hospitality but I suspect the similarity will end there. For Sri Lanka and India, especially, exiting in the group stage will be nothing short of a calamity. For Bangladesh, their best bet may well be to play with freedom and gay abandon and see if their fanatical crowds can carry them past nervous opponents. For me, the most fascinating thing will be to see how Australia approach a tournament when they are not clear favourites. It's one thing convincing yourself that you're still the best but it's a lot easier to believe that when you know everyone else thinks that too. I suspect that may not necessarily be the case in 2011- which is what makes the next few months so important in fighting for those little psychological edges.

Anyone brave enough to make any predictions? I can't pick a clear favourite just yet. That's what makes a World Cup!

When was the last time an out-of-form player said something like "there's no doubt the selectors will need to have a look at my performances"? © Getty Images

In a recent article I made reference to Michael Clarke's commendable dignity in the face of his much-publicised split with his fiancee. His latest comments after Australia's loss in the World Twenty20 final only serve to reinforce my view that as a person and as a character he shows many admirable qualities that befit the status of the highest sporting office in his country.

What's impressive (and clever) about his frank admissions about his own poor Twenty20 form is that he's coming out and saying what almost everyone is thinking - "I certainly know they [my performances] haven't been up to scratch through this whole tournament and probably in Twenty20 cricket in general," Clarke said after the final defeat in Barbados. "I'm sure the selectors will sit down and have a look and if I'm not the right guy for No. 3 and the captaincy then they'll make that decision." By loading his own gun, he not only displays an honesty that is refreshing but he also ensures any criticism that is likely to come his way is bound to be muted. It's very difficult to be crucify an honourable man who offers no excuses or tries to hide behind a smoke screen.

Yes, I am one of those people who think his spot in Australia's Twenty20 side should probably go to another youngster in the domestic ranks. Someone like Adam Voges can also bowl handy left-arm darts, Travis Birt is a powerful hitter, George Bailey is not only a fine hitter but good leadership material too, Lee Carseldine is a classy performer and Callum Ferguson is due back from injury soon. Peter English's mature and sensible piece today is exactly the sort of perspective one needs in the aftermath of disappointment. No need to rush a decision on Clarke's Twenty20 future but equally, it needs to be addressed at some point in the future if the selectors are fair dinkum about selecting the best possible team.

One of Clarke's problems is that because of the scheduling of Australia's domestic Twenty20 tournament, he is unlikely to play in that format and stake his claim or improve his skills. His non-involvement in the IPL is another problem - one less platform to show what he is capable of and one less stage to work on improving certain key aspects of his game. So how he goes about trying to justify his future selection or change his game to a more power-oriented style is a question left unanswered.

The curious thing is that Clarke, in his youth, had the shots to be the perfect Twenty20 batsman. He was renowned for being a flashy stroke-maker. And with today's cricket bats, you don't even need to be a muscle-bound Adonis to clear the boundaries. Players like Gautam Gambhir, Salman Butt, Mahela Jayawardene and Shivnarine Chanderpaul are not big men either. They seem to have the ability to hit boundaries so it's certainly not a physique thing. Not that Clarke is a diminutive chap by any means but he's not quite the build of a Cameron White, Chris Gayle or even an Angelo Matthews. So it's obviously something about his technique that seems to limit his ability to swing freely. He holds the bat much lower down the handle than he seemed to do when he first broke into the international game. And his quick feet almost seem to disadvantage him in the sense that because he gets so close to the ball, he can comfortably chip down to long-on and long-off without having to swing hard to compensate for being further away from the pitch of the ball.

If you watch someone like David Hussey, he almost tries to keep some distance away from the ball to allow his hands longer leverage. The modern sloggers tend to open up their stance and swing through the arc whereas Clarke generally tends to hit more classically down the ground when he's looking to hit a six. His only six of the tournament, against Bangladesh, was a classical little chip over the bowler's head, timed to perfection but not hit with savage intent. That's a lot different from the way a Shane Watson or White or Hussey attempts a six. They try to hit it out of the park, thereby giving themselves more latitude for error. If Clarke gets it slightly wrong, he tends to hole out to the boundary fielder, as he did against Bangladesh when he tried to repeat that very shot against Mohammad Ashraful.

I just think it's a refreshing change to see a captain (or any player for that matter) adopting such a frank attitude to their own form. When was the last time an out-of-form player said something like "there's no doubt the selectors will need to have a look at my performances"? He's almost inviting them to consider dropping him, if his output doesn't benefit the overall team cause. And that's one of the really powerful traditions of Australian cricket teams; they really do believe in the mantra that the team comes first and if that means the captain himself must fall on his sword, Clarke is living proof of that proud, unselfish tradition.

I've seen it happen time and time again in Australian sport where the leader never expects to be judged any differently to his foot soldiers and where unselfishness is a hallmark of the very best of Australian traits. I've done a lot of research into the ANZAC legends and this sort of image keeps cropping up there too, of leaders prepared to make hard calls on themselves and perhaps even making the ultimate sacrifice if it meant victory for the overall cause. I'm not saying it's a uniquely Australian thing - nothing annoys me more than when universal human qualities (or foibles) are referred to as being uniquely Australian (or un-Australian) - but nonetheless, having lived in a few different places around the world, there's a lot to admire about the way Australian leaders leave their ego at the door and devote themselves to their team cause.

Actually, I'm not entirely correct in that assessment. Australian politics is unique in that respect - our fearless leaders in that sphere show no such courage or honesty. Can you ever imagine them saying what Clarke has just said about himself? No, they'd just send a junior Minister out to sell the bad news. "Oi, David Warner or Steve Smith, just pop out and do that press conference today will you? Wish Collingwood all the best and say that I'm busy trying to figure out which players let me down in this tournament. I can't do everything for this team you know!"

	When you come up against the sort of brilliance that Michael Hussey showed, there’s probably no shame in losing © AFP

Little did I realise, when I wrote my most recent piece a fortnight ago, that those words would ring true the very next time Pakistan played Australia. Last night’s amazing finish to the T20 semi-final just underscored that point. In the space of a few hours, Pakistan managed to turn severe underdog status (if you believed the bookmakers at the start of the game) into a savage assault on the hitherto unchallenged Australian bowling/fielding machine and then somehow managed to transform a comfortable victory into a nailbiting, spellbinding loss. In that recent article I said "You never quite know what to expect with Pakistan but you expect to be entertained, frustrated or bewitched at every twist and turn of the game.”

To be fair, on this occasion, one can hardly level much blame at the feet of Pakistan. Other than for their slight inability to bowl at the feet of Michael Hussey at the death, this was more a celebration of Australia’s greatness than any indictment of Pakistan. When you come up against the sort of brilliance that Hussey showed, there’s probably no shame in losing, although that’s probably little consolation to Pakistan’s massive fan base. I must admit though that reading some of the comments on the match bulletin, even the Pakistani fans seem to be philosophical and gracious about this freak result. It’s almost as if everyone who understands and loves cricket, can appreciate the enormity of what Australia achieved, under huge pressure, even if their bitter disappointment still hurts like a knife in the guts (if you’re a Pakistan supporter).

Can this really be the same two teams who played out a five wicket maiden on the same ground, with roughly the same batsmen at the crease, just two weeks ago? Last time around, Australia lost 6/12 in the last three overs. Last night, Australia scored 53 runs in those same three overs, losing just one wicket and with a ball to spare. I tried going back to sleep at 5 am after the conclusion of the game but it was a futile exercise. The adrenalin rush was just too much to allow a peaceful slumber. I kept marvelling at not just Australia’s phenomenal skill level but their amazing, unwavering, almost delusional self-belief. Brad Haddin was interviewed on the sidelines when the game was slipping away from Australia and he made a typically foolhardy statement along the lines of just waiting for the last four overs and then having a dash. Listening to that, with the rate at 15 rpo, I couldn’t help but think that he sounded like a sad politician, refusing to concede defeat until the last vote had been counted. But that’s the thing about Australia’s cricket culture – even at lower club levels, you very rarely hear anyone conceding defeat until the Fat Lady has sung every last note. It's an incredible part of the national psyche.

For Pakistan, the tournament has mirrored everything I said in my last article. They were pretty shabby against England and New Zealand, cornered tigers against South Africa, brilliant for most of last night and .....and....well, I can’t really describe the finish without doing sufficient justice to Hussey’s brilliance or doing an injustice to Pakistan. It was a game that did not deserve a loser.

I’ve watched just about every game of this tournament and a few things struck me. Firstly, I think the inability of bowlers to execute yorkers has never been poorer. Even allowing for some innovation by the batsmen, the amount of low full tosses dished up have been amazing for professional cricketers who presumably practice this skill every day of their lives. Too many of the death overs have seen full tosses deposited into the grandstand. It’s hard to believe that the various bowling coaches can claim any job satisfaction from these sort of outputs.

The other amazing thing is the self-belief of batsmen now. Aided by superior cricket bats, they simply hit sixes at will. Most of the 270 sixes have not just cleared the rope but have landed way back in the crowd. Guyana and St Lucia are relatively big grounds and even the sixes at Barbados cleared the rope with plenty to spare. This tournament, surprisingly, saw nowhere near the number of “scoop” shots that we saw in England last year. I suppose if Tillakaratne Dilshan and Brendon McCullum had made more runs, we might have seen more of them but on pitches that probably allowed for more of this type of innovation, I was surprised by the orthodoxy of the slogging, most of it down the ground or in slog corner.

Finally, I can’t readily think of any run-outs that saw both batsmen stranded at one end after a complete misunderstanding. Michael Lumb and Craig Kieswetter had a moment in the semi-final but Ajantha Mendis’ hard hands reprieved them, Misbah ul-Haq sacrificed himself in the last ball of Pakistan’s innings today and Shahid Afridi was a few metres short against England but none of the real game-changing mix-ups that you’d expect to see in 26 T20 games.

In fairness to all teams, this World Cup probably got what it deserved – the two best teams of this tournament, pitted against each other. They’re pretty evenly matched in all departments, England slightly stronger in spin bowling options, Australia shading it with genuine pace and athletic fielders with strong arms on both teams. In some senses, it will be a relatively fair contest in that the conditions are unlikely to massively favour one team over another, unlike the case if say India/Sri Lanka/Pakistan was playing Australia/England/South Africa where a bouncy or spin-friendly pitch might skew the odds one way or the other.

I wonder if the fact that England hasn’t really been pushed to the brink in this tournament will count against them if it gets tight? Or have Australia used up all their emotional energy last night? It’ll probably come down to a bit of luck and a bit of self-belief when it matters most. And if it comes down to that, with no disrespect to England’s impressive form, how can you back against Australia? I'm looking forward to one last midnight tryst. My six-year old son described me perfectly last week for his school assignment – asked to use the word ‘nocturnal’ in a wildlife talk, he preferred instead to say “when the cricket’s on from the West Indies, my dad becomes nocturnal”. Sad but true!

"You never quite know what to expect with Pakistan but you expect to be entertained, frustrated or bewitched at every twist and turn of the game" © Associated Press

Cricket has this wonderful way of throwing up extraordinary events that sometimes teaches us to simply accept the beautiful unpredictability of sport without reading any sinister intentions into it. Struggling to stay awake at about 5 am this morning (Australia time), I was enthralled by a five-wicket maiden over at the end of Australia’s innings in the Twenty20 World Cup match in St Lucia. That an amazing finish to an innings that was rocketing along at breakneck speed just a few overs earlier when David Hussey collared Mohammad Sami.

When was the last time a team that lost 5 wickets for no runs in an over comfortably won a cricket match? That says a lot about how good this Australian team is. It also served as a sobering reminder that when such extraordinary events happen, we should sometimes dispense with our cynicism and appreciate the theatre and drama of sport for what it is. Watching that last over, there was no doubt in my mind that this was a bizarre but brilliant passage of play by Pakistan and an equally poor performance by Australia. Nothing more, nothing less. Just one of those things that can happen sometimes.

Very little else about Australia’s play was poor and Pakistan had little else to celebrate but for this single over. If the situation had been reversed, I wonder if there would have been the usual murmurings and suspicions about how Pakistan could possibly have lost five wickets for no runs in six balls. And that would have been most terribly unfair on Pakistan because as we’ve just seen, amazing things can happen sometimes without having to question the integrity of such events.

Like in Sydney a few months ago, Australia fought back brilliantly and Pakistan stumbled at the last hurdle to complete a memorable game of cricket. It was compelling cricket and Pakistan played their part in one of the most enjoyable Test matches in recent memory, only to have to defend themselves against some scurrilous suggestions that something was rotten in the camp. And sadly for Pakistan, they seem to unfairly have to put up with frequent innuendo of this nature, even when there is little evidence to point to anything but brilliant, poor, inspired, imaginative, freakish moments in a cricket match. It’s the beauty of the way they play cricket, richly talented, often unpredictable, capable of the brilliant and bizarre in the space of a few minutes. That’s one of the reasons I’ve always loved watching Pakistan play – you never quite know what to expect but you expect to be entertained, frustrated or bewitched at every twist and turn of the game. Sure, there have been some integrity issues with Pakistani cricket that have been well documented but we sometimes forget that just about every country has been implicated in the murky world of match-fixing and betting scandals.

Pakistan seem to be forever defending themselves against such accusations but that a roller-coaster ride is the very reason why they are such a watchable side. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve watched Pakistan chase a total and fall hopelessly behind the run rate, only to see the most amazing acceleration that defied the 40 overs that preceded it. Even this morning, despite feeling desperately sleepy and seeing Australia comfortably on top, I could not bring myself to switch off the TV in case Afridi, Misbah or Razzaq just exploded and pulled off a miracle. I only truly relaxed when Misbah was dismissed, despite the scoreboard willing me to call it quits and take an Aussie victory for granted.

There are not too many other sides in world cricket that make me that nervous, even when Australia are seemingly cruising towards victory. Perhaps South Africa with Boucher and Morkel still at the crease but theirs is a more clinical assault rather than the sheer unpredictability of a Pakistani cyclone. It’s Boom-boom or Bust! Whatever the criticisms of modern cricket, one cannot argue that it lacks for entertainment, sheer skill and firepower. I love watching Australia bat for that reason. I love watching Australia in the field for that reason. Even on their bad days, even when the eyelids are heavy from watching two consecutive games of cricket in the middle of the night and a warm bed is calling, when Pakistan are chasing down an impossible target, it’s easy to see why Bon Jovi said “I’ll sleep when I’m dead”.

	Why is it that a batsman who steals (cheats) an extra metre instantly becomes the "poor victim" if the bowler runs him out in his delivery stride? © International Cricket Council

As Gideon Haigh so eloquently put it in his most recent Cricinfo piece, the Australian sporting public are apparently betrayed and shocked by recent revelations about their champion rugby league team's salary cap rort. Well, perhaps only those who actually care about rugby league are actually shocked. But amongst that demographic, there is almost a universal sense of betrayal and shock, a universality that has been noticeably lacking in recent years when women were allegedly sexually assaulted or treated as group sex playthings by half a rugby league team. It's a measure of the morality of a sport when it feels more betrayed by salary cap cheating than the sense of shame that comes with numerous examples of poor behaviour where real people actually get hurt sometimes.

But for some reason, the issue of systemic 'cheating' carries with it a sense of deep outrage. As I discussed in my most recent post, the issue of double standards is a troublesome beast that simply won't go away and die quietly in peace. The ICC World Twenty20 in the West Indies is about to showcase another curious aspect of cricket's inconsistency that would surely confuse anyone trying to make sense of the rules. I refer to the 'Mankad' law.

Fairly recently, the laws of cricket were amended to ensure that the non-striker could virtually cheat at will. He can steal a metre or two and be almost immune from being run-out by the bowler. If the bowler had the temerity to actually effect a 'Mankad dismissal', it would generally be seen as a churlish and mean-spirited thing to do. The fielding captain would almost be obliged to call the poor batsman back.

Yet, for a sport that relies on the third umpire to make decisions based on millimetres and split video frames, it is utterly inconsistent to allow the non-striker to gain an advantage of this magnitude. Why is it that a batsman who steals (cheats) an extra metre instantly becomes the "poor victim" if the bowler runs him out in his delivery stride? Can this be the same game where the third umpire will watch endless replays to see if a run-out decision can be decided by the narrowest of margins? Can this be the same game where every possible camera angle will be used to decide if the boundary fielder touched the rope with any part of his body in contact with the ball?

In T20 cricket especially, if a bowler even cuts the popping crease with the mere shadow of his boot, he gets penalised one run and a free hit next ball. In a shortened game, a genuine mistake which probably does not even give the bowler any real advantage (unless he is deliberately bowling no-balls and that is likely to be a blatant breach anyway), a free hit can often be the difference between winning and losing. That's how tight cricket can be. And yet, the lawmakers have somehow deemed it appropriate to allow the non-striker to virtually back up as far as he wants so he can then get the benefit of the doubt if there's a run-out decision that has to be decided by an inconclusive split video frame.

Perhaps in a bygone era when non-strikers gently strolled forward as the bowler delivered the ball and no unfair advantage was sought, the bowler whipping off the bails was probably seen as a bit beyond the pale. But now, in a clinically professional environment where it's the 'one percenters' that determine success or failure, it seems an incredible oversight to allow only one aspect of the game to effectively steal territory that is ruthlessly policed in every other sphere. If batsmen are doing this deliberately, especially in a situation where it's the last ball of the match and the batting team needs to scramble one or two runs to win the game, is this not tantamount to cheating? If you need two to win and the full length ball gets choked out to long-on/long-off, it's almost impossible to stop the non-striker getting back for the second run if he's already halfway down the pitch when the batsman hits it. Athletes like AB De Villiers, Michael Clarke, Kieron Pollard and MS Dhoni would back themselves every time to beat the ball home if they had that sort of advantage.

If cricket is going to be fair dinkum about consistent rulings, this anomaly needs to be addressed. Just watch the non-strikers in these next few weeks and freeze the point at which the ball is delivered. It's not really cheating because the law says you can do it but it's an inconsistency that makes no sense in a sport that is often decided by the smallest of margins. Go figure.....

"Why does a nick to the wicketkeeper or a close-in fielder have a different moral obligation than the fielder who caught a bump ball?" © Getty Images

There’s nothing like a bit of controversy to spark a debate about what different sports regard as acceptable within that particular sport’s culture. Recently, in an A League football (soccer) semi-final between Sydney FC and Wellington Phoenix, a striker attempted to head the ball into the goal, missed with his melon but managed a tidy little handball into the back of the net and duly celebrated the goal in typical football style. The defenders indignantly protested but the match officials did not see it and the goal was allowed, even though replays showed a blatant foul.

Following on from the infamous Thierry Henry incident from last year in the World Cup qualifying game against Ireland, it was interesting to note that the Sydney player was relatively unfazed by the controversy surrounding his actions, yet the Wellington coach was furious, even likening it to that famous underarm bowling episode, adding to New Zealand’s list of injustices committed by Australian sportsmen.

I was discussing this incident with some of my university students in a sports philosophy context and we got on to the topic of the curious nature of morality in sport. Why and how are some actions just totally unacceptable in terms of fair play and yet, some other dubious practices are given immunity from the ‘cheating’ tag with the responsibility for the decision ultimately being ceded to the referee/umpire? There exists a duality of morality not just between sports but also within sports. And in some cases, the boundaries of morality actually change according to broad regional differences in the perception of what is acceptable or not.

The handball incident, if likened to cricket, is probably akin to a batsman nicking the ball (and knowing he nicked it) and continuing to bat on if the umpire gives him not-out. The cricket world has always been split on this issue and some of the history can be traced back to cultural myths or truths. It was generally thought that Australians don’t walk and Englishmen did and broadly speaking, there was a consistency to it some years back. I’m not sure if that really applies anymore but some people still stick to those (seeming) stereotypes. And it’s probably fair to say that the cricket world is still split on whether that practice is acceptable or not.

Yet, if a fielder catches a ball that he knows has bounced, it is universally accepted to be poor form to claim the catch. There is a strange gentleman’s code that still permeates cricket globally that generally accepts this unofficial code of behaviour. How has cricket arrived at that moral duality? Isn’t it much the same – if you know that you nicked it or the ball bounced, does it matter what the umpire thinks? Why does a nick to the wicketkeeper or a close-in fielder have a different moral obligation than the fielder who caught a bump ball? IF the guilty party knows (and I concede that in many cases there is genuine uncertainty), what's the difference? What can cricket historians tell us about how these traditions developed?

Similarly, why does cricket not really have a problem with fielders appealing for catches that are clearly not out? Why is that essentially less shameful than claiming a bump catch? I mean, if you know that the ball bounced or the batsman did not nick it, again, what’s the difference? LBW’s are a bit harder for players to judge because it is often a judgement call, except of course if the fielders know that the batsman edged the ball on to the pad. In that instance though, how did cricket come to shrug its shoulders at an inside-edge lbw decision but adopt a pious stance on the bump catch?

What other sports have this inconsistency of philosophy entrenched into its very fabric? Clearly, football in the modern world is a cut-throat business where no one really feels any moral compunction to come clean on handballs or faked injuries or diving or whatever. Are there any ‘special’ rules that demand the honour call in football though?

Golf has a long established code of players calling shots on themselves, even when no one else may have noticed. Are there any other minor forms of cheating that is allowable so long as you can get away with it?

Rugby has recently seen a shift in culture where players will celebrate tries when they know full well that they haven’t cleanly grounded the ball. If the referee doesn’t pick up a knock-on, players will happily play on without any suggestion that this is morally wrong. What’s the difference between that and a bump catch? What special rules does rugby have that should never be crossed? For example, eye-gouging is apparently a shameful act but knocking someone unconscious with a punch that could potentially kill is seen as less heinous. Strange isn’t it?

I’m not sure what moral codes govern tennis etiquette. Perhaps someone can educate us on that. Does the code change depending on whether there’s an umpire or not? If you’re playing tennis without an umpire or linesman, are players morally obliged to make honest calls?

What about issues like sledging? Why is it not OK to claim a bump catch but the same player is fair game to copping any sort of abuse as a legitimate way of dismissing him? “Gosh chaps, we’re too honourable to claim that catch but if you can question his parentage or his sister’s virginity, fire away with all barrels and let’s see if he plays a daft shot”.

Perhaps professionalism has changed sport’s basic historical rules governing etiquette (although golf is about as rich as it gets and still appears to hold on to those Olde Worlde ethics). In my experience, cricket too has some invisible lines that instinctively do not get crossed. For example, I’ve played in League games on Saturday afternoons - bitterly contested - with only the umpires standing between total anarchy and mayhem and yet, the same combatants can play the next day in a ‘jazz hat’ game for Sunday XI’s like The Arabs or John Paul Getty’s XI or MCC (and a million other examples I’m sure) and the tenor of the game changes without any real need for the captains to even mention it. It’s almost like we have the ability to dance to a magic tune that plays silently but can be clearly heard only by our conscience.

I suppose mankind has always grappled with notions of nobility in the midst of unspeakable cruelty. Many an honourable duel was fought with strict adherence to the customs but the end result was still the same. Dead is still dead, regardless of whether you were shot in the back or front. As long as the ball finishes up in the goal, who cares if it was a handball? I mean, it's only called FOOTball? It’s just not cricket!

The best thing about Clarke's press conference was that he was prepared to accept that life in the spotlight is part of the social contract that an international sportsman has to deal with © Getty Images

Fair play to Michael Clarke; despite enduring a trying week, he has, thus far, maintained a dignity that has so far escaped just about everybody else involved in the B Grade soap opera that has been his life in the last few days.

His press conference today was sensible, understated and realistic. The best thing about it was that he was prepared to accept that life in the spotlight is part of the social contract that an international sportsman has to deal with. For that admission alone, he may yet escape the worst of the media attention that might otherwise have been directed at him – it’s almost like he’s disarmed the media by giving them the gun and removing his bulletproof vest. It takes a cad and a bounder to shoot an unarmed man!

I’m not one of those who feels particularly sorry for him, nor do I get any real satisfaction from seeing his personal life in mild turmoil. To be honest, it doesn’t particularly interest me one way or the other. When he first started dating Lara Bingle, I was one of those who doubted it would last because I doubted the whole “true love” thing that the cheap magazines promoted. Nonetheless, it has nothing whatsoever to do with my life, so if sports stars want to date pretty girls who set their stall out to catch high-profile husbands, that’s their business. Good or bad. Just don’t complain too much when it goes pear-shaped. Not that Clarke can be accused of that. Good on him.

As far as real drama or tragedy goes, it hardly rates a mention on the world scale. Clarke effectively admits as much by not making a mountain of a molehill and accepting that he will inevitably face some sledging from the crowds in New Zealand and perhaps the opposition players too. One really can’t control what the crowd will dish out but it would be a sad thing if the Black Caps turn this incident into a sledge-fest on the field. Cricket is a nobler game than that and Clarke himself is not the most abrasive character in the Australian set up so it would be a credit to Vettori and his lads if they can rise above the cheap shots and just play cricket. In fact, that in itself may unsettle Clarke more; he may well be steeling himself for some cruel taunts and it may play with his mind if the New Zealand fielders say absolutely nothing on the Bingle front.

In Brisbane’s main Sunday newspaper, an excellent writer by the name of Peter Badel wrote a fascinating piece on the Michael Clarke brand and how his management went to some lengths to position him favourably in the public eye. As far as management teams go, Clarke is looked after by one of the best in the business so it was no surprise that it was a carefully planned strategy, replete with flow-charts and statistics and marketing plans, all of it aimed at giving the Australian public a look at the “real Michael Clarke”. Reading the article, it seemed a bit odd that this sort of information was made public. After all, if the intent was to promote him as a normal, everyday sort of bloke who wasn’t the flashy, blonde-tipped pretty boy that the media sometimes portrayed him as, surely letting on that this was all going to be achieved through a sophisticated brand strategy was almost going to have the opposite effect.

Likewise, I think Clarke missed a trick by allowing the engagement split to be announced via a short statement issued by his manager. I reckon it would have been more effective had it been done by him personally in front of the cameras, even if it was followed by a comment like: “I’m sure you’ll understand that this is a difficult time for Lara and myself. We’re hurting inside and we’d really appreciate a few days to deal with this in private”. He might have copped a few awkward questions but generally speaking, even the most hardened journo might have actually softened a bit and left him alone.

Perhaps that’s exactly why he’s come out today and said publicly that he fully expects a bit of stick from the crowd. I think the reverse psychology thing’s a smart move.

Not much else over this whole saga has been particularly smart. Whoever disseminated those compromising photographs of Lara is lower than a snake’s belly for treating any lady like that. Lara’s pleas for privacy sound a bit strange from someone whose entire career was founded on forcing her publicity on us when we didn’t even know who she was a few years ago. Her claims of naivety and wide-eyed innocence were diluted somewhat when it was revealed that she had no such diminutive qualities when it came to dating a very publicly married man with young children. And to top it all off, giving ‘the bird’ to the media just about sealed her fate – no brand strategist could possibly see how that photo wouldn’t come back to haunt her if she ever became the First Lady of Australian cricket. After all, we now know that love comes second to personal brand.

All in all, not much good has come of any of this apart from such cheap jokes on the Internet and a weird fascination with the private lives of sports stars. Personally, I’m more interested in Clarke’s cover drive than what is under his coverlet but it was almost impossible to ignore the media frenzy that this ridiculous circus generated. Let’s just hope that the New Zealand lads can show a bit of class and take cricket back to decent heights by staying true to their integrity as fellow-professional colleagues. Leave the gutter-stuff to any drunken idiots in the crowd and just play cricket.

Mind you, the prize for best sign from the crowd still belongs to that erstwhile chap from Hamilton a few days ago: “Clarkey, where the bloody hell are you?”

Now that’s clever. Even Clarkey must have seen the funny side of that.

Mitchell Johnson and Scott Styris during their mid-pitch clash in Napier © Getty Images

"Many remark justice is blind; pity those in her sway, shocked to discover she is also deaf." - David Mamet – Faustus

A few months ago, when Suleiman Benn clashed with Brad Haddin and Mitchell Johnson, I wrote a piece critical of the seeming double standards that the ICC applies when dealing with such unsavoury incidents.

Much earlier, I wrote a similar-themed piece when Gautam Gambhir and Shane Watson clashed in India in 2008.

Watching the live telecast from Napier yesterday when Mitchell Johnson (again) and Scott Styris clashed tongues and heads, there was never any doubt in my mind that justice like the type meted out to Benn and Gambhir was unlikely to happen here. An insignificant fine perhaps, depriving already rich men of some pocket money, and talk of responsibilities towards the Spirit of Cricket and role models but nothing that really resembles justice.

After the Benn-Haddin-Johnson incident, one could have been forgiven for thinking that physical contact on the cricket field was a clear no-no. Nothing ambiguous about that. Both Gambhir and Benn were suspended on the basis of making physical contact with an opponent, regardless of provocation. Fair enough too. So long as that applies to everyone.

How then does Johnson, a repeat offender in the last three months, escape with a mere 60% fine when it was clear that he headbutted Styris (albeit fairly gently - quite sensible too considering Styris was wearing a helmet!)? One explanation is that the Australians and New Zealanders know how to play it just that bit smarter when it comes to limiting the post-match post-mortems. They both explain it away with quotes like "harmless banter, heat of the battle, nothing untoward out there, a friendly exchange, part of the game, international cricket is competitive etc etc" which then ensures that both parties provide a bit of protection for each other and the case is then judged through more tolerant eyes.

Isn't it funny how similar incidents involving Benn and Gambhir weren't explained away so casually? Would Styris have been that forgiving if his opponent had been Benn or Gambhir? Or is just something unique about Australia v New Zealand that makes this, as Styris said, “nothing more than normal”. “The Australians play good competitive cricket and I'd like to think that we'll match them in that competitiveness; there wasn't anything untoward out there,” he said. On the question of a head clash, he actually feigns some ignorance, claiming only that "he might have come quite close. I don't know, he may have done."

Perhaps it's a cultural thing where some cultures are more accustomed to this sort of competitiveness on the field, which would explain both Johnson and Stryris being relatively unfazed by the incident. The problem with this convenient explanation is that these same cricketers generally seem to be much less relaxed when their opponents don't share the same cultural values.

Also, the argument fails on another front too; considering that Chris Broad was Match Referee for the Benn and Gambhir incidents, you would think that he too would share similar laissez-faire views on these sorts of incidents. Instead, surprisingly, we find that Ranjan Madugalle is the only Match Referee who shares the Aussie-Kiwi sense of competitiveness that Styris dismissed so casually.

The inherent danger with adopting a cultural tolerance when ruling on such cases is that it then becomes open to suggestions of bias, based on race, ethnicity or colour, even if it was never intended that way. Cricket's family is too global and too dispersed to allow such latitude in interpreting the rules of engagement. As we saw a few years ago, Brad Hogg was given a slap on the wrist for calling an Indian player a "bast***" because it was deemed that in his cultural make-up, such an insult was not too offensive but to another person from a different background, this might be a deep insult.

With something like physical contact, why should there be any grey areas of uncertainty? If you make deliberate contact with an opponent, how can one player cop a two-match penalty and the other get a small fine? Oh, that's right - plead guilty and you can play the next game. Easy as that. Cop a small fine, pay it from petty cash reserves and put it down to "good competitive cricket". And when you do it again in three months time, plead guilty again and so it goes. Meanwhile, some other players who fight for justice cop two-match bans. That's justice?

Interestingly, in todays Australian newspaper, the coverage of the cricket was buried deep, three pages into the sports section. Completely coincidence of course that Australia lost this match! More revealing was the writer's preview of the incident, referring to "the talkative Styris". Clearly, the Australians keep their mouths shut at all times and only ever get caught up in friendly fire. Poor lambs!

We keep talking of consistency from umpires when it comes to lbw decisions or wide calls or anything else on the field. Likewise, match referees need to adopt a similar stance when dealing with clear breaches that apply to any cricketer, regardless of which country they come from. If not, there will be accusations of bias, of East v West of Rich v Poor. And cricket does not need that sort of divisiveness.

"Justice is a whore that won't let herself be stiffed, and collects the wages of shame even from the poor" said Karl Krauss in The Good Conduct Medal. I tend to think that Anatole France was more on the money in Crainquebille: "Justice is the means by which established injustices are sanctioned".

"The IPL, through no fault of its own, faces the prospect of being a vehicle that will ultimately cause friction rather than harmony" © Associated Press

For a concept that went so far as to bring international cricketers together, the IPL, through no fault of its own, faces the prospect of being a vehicle that will ultimately cause friction rather than harmony. I post this blog piece today, deliberately timed so it gets published before any decisions have been made and diplomatic wrangles occur.

It's clear that security issues will continue to affect the IPL in years to come, regardless of how this year's event pans out. The relocation in 2009 to South Africa, prompted by security issues involving the national elections in India was managed admirably, making the best of a difficult situation. The 2010 situation is a bit more serious because it has the potential to reduce the international flavour of the tournament that makes the IPL such a unique dish. Sure, even if some international players pull out, the event might yet be a modest success, bolstered by patriotism and India's domestic strength but regardless of the brave spin that may be put on it, it will lose some of its lustre. No sense in denying that.

If it comes to pass that players from Australia, New Zealand, South Africa and England withdraw, the risk is that it will create an East-West divide that will take many years to repair. And that will be the ironic legacy of the IPL if it does turn out that way: what started off as a global event may descend into a Cold War drawn along traditional and predictable lines. There will be accusations of cowardice and double standards, of plotting to steal World Cups and of the supposed arrogance of cricket's major powerbroker. One can only hope that the cricketers themselves will be spared the pain and vitriol that will inevitably flow from all disappointed stakeholders.

Already, there is innuendo that the Australian camp is divided. The ex-players are apparently keen to make the event, spurred on no doubt by advancing years and the promise of a last golden handshake. Let's not pretend otherwise - despite all the talk of great challenges and being part of a global event, it ultimately boils down to money. Plenty of it. An IPL without the big cheques would simply not be on the radar of these retired warriors.

The current Australian players are reputedly less keen, weighing up a long career in Australian cricket against the promise of a quick but uncertain payout. They are not in that much of a rush to make their fortunes and one can understand their reluctance to risk their safety when time is on their side. What makes this clash unique is that it will eventually come down to a question of whether the various player unions can exert enough influence over a membership that also includes ex-players who are essentially beholden to no one but themselves. If the advice is that they should not attend the IPL, how can they enforce that ruling on any 'retired' player who wants to act independently?

Next year's World Cup question is a bit easier to resolve because it involves playing for one's country and that will mean that the decision will be taken by the respective governing bodies, thereby not putting the players in the invidious position of making the call themselves. What is clear though is that it is patently ridiculous for any government, in any country, to offer guarantees and assurances of safety. If it was that easy to guarantee such a fluid concept, why can't everybody do that across all walks of life, not just for cricketers? I mean, how does one ever claim on such a ridiculous guarantee?

Perhaps the answer is for all parties to take the emotion and guilt out of the whole situation and genuinely leave it up to the individual's discretion with no threats or talk of lifetime bans or blackballs. All that sort of loaded comment does is to create guilt and resentment when none of this is really the fault of the IPL or the players. It's a function of the world we live in where terror threats are seen as a legitimate way to push a political cause. India is not alone in facing this problem but she should not view it as a personal betrayal if some cricketers make a personal choice based on their own family circumstances.

And that's pretty well what it boils down to. Some individuals are less risk-averse than others, some are less fazed by terror threats than others and no one deserves censure or praise for making a personal decision. It's really no different to any other risky job. It's up to each individual to decide whether the risks are worth the rewards and make choices accordingly. The IPL is not about representing your country with pride - it's purely about being a highly paid entertainer in a commercial venture. So let's hope they take the nationalistic jargon out of the diplomatic posturing and just treat it like any other job offer. Weigh up the risks and rewards, consult with your family and do what's right for you. It need not be a national insult or cowardice or any other loaded value judgement. Whatever the decision, let's hope it doesn't become a divisive issue that splits the cricket world across the cultural divide. The game is not big enough to survive that sort of pettiness.

"Hauritz’s success in the last year or so has been more than just the sheer numbers" © Getty Images

Cricket is full of intra-sport rivalries, even though much of it is meant to be in a light-hearted tone. Fast bowlers are said to be a bit ‘thick’, wicketkeepers are apparently eccentric and opening batsmen are often associated with having no fear. Perhaps none of these myths have any real basis but it adds to the romance and character of the game.

Another school of thought centres around the notion that it’s often a batsman’s game. Bowlers are forever complaining that flat pitches, shorter boundaries, covered wickets, new technology for bats and restrictions on the use of the short ball have made it even easier for the batsmen. Not surprisingly, batsmen are quick to point out that while bowlers get plenty of chances to make mistakes, one false shot and an innings can be terminated.

Here’s a question for you then. I only thought about it when thinking about the rise and rise of Nathan Hauritz in the last 12 months, despite not really being rated highly by any of his opponents. If you are underrated by the opposition, is it easier to be a bowler than a batsman?

Hauritz’s success in the last year or so has been more than just the sheer numbers. Anyone who has watched him closely will see a bowler who is now a genuinely a world-class performer, in the context of contemporary off-spinners. He has drift, he turns the ball much more than he used to, has a good arm ball and now operates (and can execute) a plan. I’m not going to get into an argument about how he compares with Murali, Harbhajan, Ajmal, Mendis etc because that will just distract readers from the theme I’m seeking to explore: has Hauritz actually benefited from being underrated and does this make it easier for a bowler to succeed?

Just about every team that has come up against Hauritz in recent times has not been particularly concerned about the threat he posed, yet they have succumbed to him in reasonable numbers. Most famously, Pakistan recently, somewhat ungraciously bemoaned giving him a bagful of wickets in the series. Reading between the lines, the not-so-subtle insinuation was Hauritz should not have got so many of them out …. but he did! Two five-fors on Australian pitches against an Asian side for an offspinner is a creditable achievement. He certainly out-bowled the much more fancied Ajmal, despite not really having a doosra up his sleeve. Or perhaps the Pakistani batsmen treated him with less respect than their counterparts showed to Ajmal and Kaneria.

It all started last summer when the New Zealander Aaron Redmond launched a stunning assault on Hauritz in Adelaide before lunch on the first morning, showing him scant respect, only to lose his head and the war and hole out to deep midwicket. Hauritz kept improving and kept believing in himself while his opponents kept refusing to acknowledge his growing stature. Even on the Ashes tour, Hauritz more than held his own, ironically, only to lose his place in the final Test at The Oval when his bowling on that pitch may just have decided the fate of the series.

My hypothesis is that it’s a lot tougher for a batsman in a similar position to Hauritz. If he is not rated, bowlers don’t really bowl with less intensity to him. If anything, they smell blood and actually raise their game a touch, thereby making it even tougher for a batsman who knows that one mistake finishes his innings. A bowler who is severely mauled can still win the battle, a la Hauritz in Adelaide in 2008-09 or even Jason Krejza on Test debut in India in 2008 (although his wickets came at a considerable cost and Australia lost that match).

I suppose Paul Collingwood and maybe even JP Duminy are two batsmen who weren’t really feared by opposition bowlers at the start of their careers, only to prove the folly of those assumptions. Collingwood has continued to thrive, despite still being seen as unfashionable and dour, even though he can be a devastating hitter in limited-overs cricket. Duminy is now finding out the hard way that once you become a target, batting becomes a whole lot more difficult.

Back to Hauritz though; it will be interesting to see if his performances start to wane over the next 12 months as teams eventually acknowledge that he cannot afford to be disrespected. If they treat him with more respect, will that play into Hauritz’s hands or will he find the soft dismissals won’t come as easily? His economy rate might improve but it might be at the expense of his strike rate.

Returning to the argument about batsmen and bowlers, I was always happy I was an all-rounder. As the Overseas Professional in League teams in England, there was always the comfort that it would take more than one bad ball to ruin my day as a bowler, especially when the hard-bitten old club faithful expected the pro to do the business every weekend. Needless to say, they were often disappointed! Like Hauritz, I too was severely underrated but in my case, it was entirely justified.

Rarely has a moderate run-chase been buried in the third over with the fall of the first wicket © Getty Images

The summary of Cricinfo’s ball-by-ball match commentary from the MCG tonight reads:

34.2 Hauritz to Rampaul, OUT, Australia go 1-0 up, Rampaul sweeps without too much power behind the shot, the ball loops to Shaun Marsh at deep midwicket, simple catch and West Indies go down by 113 runs, Gayle's 4-1 prediction looks implausible now, Australia picked up their sixth straight ODI win this summer.

Au contraire, Chris Gayle has now ensured that he is on track to keep his bold prediction. While we’re in the mood for making ridiculous statements, we may as well pretend this is all part of the Gayle Masterplan. He’s got the hard bit out of the way – the only loss. Now it’s simply a matter of four consecutive wins against the feeble Aussies and he’s a genius!

Despite Gayle’s cool persona, a cricketer of real substance lies underneath that languid exterior. We saw that much earlier this summer, in contrasting innings’ in Adelaide and Perth. In the eyes of many Australians who hadn’t really seen him at his best in this country before, he gained new respect and new friends. That will soon disappear if he keeps making foolish statements that belong more in the world of boxing or rock ’n’ roll wrestling than a serious cricket contest.

Four-nil indeed! It’s one thing being confident and upbeat but unless he made that statement with tongue firmly in cheek and clearly meant in jest, he risks being dismissed as irrelevant and trivial. His disparaging comments about Test cricket earlier in 2009 have already singled him out for closer scrutiny, redeemed somewhat by his leadership in Australia during the Test series. To then come into a one-day series, missing six of your best players, against a rampant Australian outfit on their home soil, world champions and Champions Trophy winners, and to seriously expect respect by talking about a 4-1 series triumph will do nothing for his credibility.

Even with Bravo, Benn, Sarwan, Barath, Chanderpaul and Taylor in the team, any sensible bookmaker would have the Aussies as comfortable favourites. Against a team like this current West Indian one, brave and honest in the field but seriously lacking pedigree with the bat, the 4-1 prediction sounds like it’s the rum talking. The TV broadcasters were trying to beef it up all evening, claiming that the batting was the strong suit (hence the choice to bat second) but secretly they must have feared that as soon as Gayle was dismissed, any interest in the game would be assassinated with it. And so it came to pass. Rarely has a moderate run-chase been buried in the third over with the fall of the first wicket.

The West Indian bowling and fielding was admirable at times. They read the pitch conditions and pulled back a likely 300-plus chase to a manageable target of 258. A stiff chase it was always going to be but with their apparent batting strength, it was a slim possibility. What we saw tonight has killed off any real interest in the rest of the series, unless Gayle can bat for most of the 50 overs himself. The rest of the top order do not appear to have the back-foot strokes to relieve the choking grip that the Australian seamers apply with the length they bowl, rarely allowing the batsmen to get on the front foot. I can’t recall an international No. 4 (Lendl Simmons) reduced to scoring singles between third man and square leg, unable to draw on any other stroke to wrest the initiative away from the bowlers. It’s a far cry from thrashing the ball on England’s flat pitches in the World Twenty20. No such easy pickings here son, not unless you’ve got a back-foot game and a plan to go with it.

Some of what we saw tonight was amateurish. Denesh Ramdin carries his gloves in his left hand and then wonders why he is slow to turn when scrambling back to make his ground. What sort of professionalism is that? It’s like a hairdresser working in a spa bath with an electric hairdryer. Dwayne Smith goes to extreme lengths to fetch a ball from outside off stump and gently paddle it down midwicket’s throat. To think he actually tried to hit it there. Gosh, who put that fielder there?

To cap it all off, despite falling wickets and a spiralling run rate, West Indies forgot to take their batting Powerplay. Their last glimmer of hope probably rested with Smith and Ramdin so surely that was the time to throw the dice. It’s inconceivable that a crucial strategic aspect of the game is completely forgotten or ignored. We all know that Gayle's so laid back that he virtually walks in his sleep but is there anyone else awake in that dressing room? I can’t think of another instance where a batting team has not taken their Powerplay in a losing situation. No John Dyson to blame this time.

Then again, it might all be part of the Gayle Masterplan. Maybe he thought he could save that unused Powerplay for the next game, along with the 15 overs that they didn't get through tonight. Actually … not a bad idea. Give them 65 overs and an extra Powerplay. Anything for a contest; even 4-1 the other way would be something to look forward to

Shahid Afridi’s actions today rank right up there with Dumb & Dumber © Getty Images

This weekend, I’ve seen some things on cricket fields which redefine stupidity. First cab off the rank - without even knowing what will become of the inevitable interview with the match referee, Shahid Afridi’s actions today rank right up there with Dumb & Dumber.

I write this post, barely ten minutes after the finish of a tense game in Perth, so I don’t even know if Afridi has been summoned to a “please explain” with Ranjan Madugalle or not, but I’d be hugely surprised if we see him at the MCG on Friday night. Goodness knows what he was thinking or what his excuse will be for seemingly gnawing away at the cricket ball, but as captain it really begs the question of whether he is true leadership material. He has always been accused of playing stupid shots while batting but that is also his charm and excitement. This latest incident has no up side.

I daresay there will be the usual protestations of wide-eyed innocence but I’m not sure if it will wash this time around. Umar Gul’s earnest conversation with him during a subsequent break in play seemed to be about anything but the next bowling change. Of course, that is only my guess but I reckon the dressing room would have been sending urgent messages to the captain, trying to find ways to put out fires that will burn long into the night. Actually, leading up to that incident, his leadership seemed pretty inspiring, in stark contrast to what Mohammad Yousuf's charisma looks like from afar, watching on TV. However, the TV coverage of the 'bitegate' was not pretty – as much as I love watching Afridi play, I just can’t imagine what excuse will save his skin this time.

Running a very close second to his stupidity was the (presumably inebriated) spectator who invaded the WACA ground and tackled Khalid Latif. In fact, in terms of player safety and the spirit of the game, that action deserves nothing short of contempt. It is to Latif’s credit that he scrambled to his feet with a smile on his face and did his best to make light of what was a very potentially serious incident. If he was an international footballer (soccer), Latif would have done four death rolls and writhed in pain for a few minutes until he got sufficient TV coverage and then sprung to his feet like a startled gazelle when the magic sponge was applied! Fortunately, these Pakistani cricketers are a tough bunch of lads.

On a far less public stage, I witnessed (again and again) an umpire in club cricket who persisted in dropping his lighted cigarette butts on the edge of the field as he walked out to start each new session. Apart from the litter and hygiene aspects, most of Australia is normally in the midst of some fire ban or the other. The horrors of the Victorian bushfires, barely a year ago, should still be vivid in our minds, especially considering some of those killer blazes were allegedly ignited through carelessness or murderous intent. And yet, grown adults, entrusted with some leadership roles, repeatedly do this sort of thing! My two-year old son, accustomed to coming down and playing on the fringes of the oval, picked up one of these butts and was about to suck on it in curiosity when I intervened just in time. When confronted on the issue, the umpire initially tried to deny it but soon realised that the evidence was overwhelming. Dumb, Dumber and now Butthead!

Final observation on less than clever things I’ve seen this weekend? Pakistan’s continued obsession with Younis Khan at the top of the order. With Imran Farhat waiting in the wings, a dead rubber and a batsman clearly out of his depth on Australian pitches (on this tour anyway), it seemed like a deliberate own goal to keep sending him out at No. 3. His inability to score off the short ball meant he was just pinned back in the crease, chewing up valuable balls in the Powerplay and then forced to play away from his body, nicking to keeper or slip. If it was essential that he played in all 5 games (I can’t think of why but….), why didn’t they allow him to ease into things gently at 5 or 6 when the field is usually spread and singles are more easily available?

Pakistan’s cricket this summer has been a series of inexplicable events. Unquestioned talent, missed opportunities, daft cricket at times and a real lack of sensing the moments when the game swung on a knife’s edge. It was a fitting end to the tour really, to see the game won with a lobbed catch off a waist high no-ball. I read just now that the chief selector has just resigned too. Another tour that promised so much and has so far delivered sweet nothing. Isn't that oh so Pakistan!

Some of Australia's Under-19 players have already been blooded in the Sheffield Shield © Getty Images

Having spent a lot of time watching and coaching kids in England and Australia, it is clear that in general terms (not looking at elite squads), there is a significant difference in technique, patience and passion for the game between those countries and India, Pakistan or Sri Lanka for that matter. An average 13 to 15-year-old kid playing school or club cricket in Brisbane is not even close to the ability level of a random kid playing on a maidan in Mumbai, a laneway in Colombo or on a cobbled street in a Karachi bazaar. The Asian lads seem to have infinitely more sophisticated techniques, more patience and an appreciation of the finer arts of the game.

I recall walking through the park that borders the Bombay Gymkhana and watching in amazement at the numerous cricket matches being played in perfect synchronicity with each other, each game independent of another but still played in perfect harmony, rarely getting in the way of the adjoining match, despite sharing common ground. Young boys waited patiently to bat for hours on end, scoring, clapping, cheering and being totally absorbed in every single ball that was bowled.

One young chap, clearly no more than 12, was bowling offspin with an uncanny Saqlain Mushtaq action and as I walked by, he produced a beautiful doosra that clipped off stump. It was obviously no accident because the wicketkeeper moved to cover that very delivery. Hardly believing my eyes, I went up to him and quizzed him about that ball and he showed me how he delivered the killer blow. Still incredulous, I asked him to repeat the same delivery next ball. Lo and behold; another perfectly pitched doosra, a little nick to first slip and ‘Little Saqlain’s’ on a hat trick! No longer prepared to doubt my own eyes, I stayed for two hours in the stifling heat on an April morning and watched more marvels unfold in front of my eyes. I was with some other Australian cricketers at the time, including James Hopes, and we all agreed that this sort of skill level was unparalleled among boys of similar age back home.

I compare that to my son’s junior cricket in Brisbane and it’s a world apart. Their techniques are rudimentary, most of them are flat out bowling over-arm (let alone bowling doosras) and they have little interest in watching the game unfold, preferring instead to climb trees or play on the swings when they’re not batting themselves. They appeal for anything and don’t even understand the difference between leg-byes and wides. At this age, a World Cup would be annihilation for youngsters from Australia, England or New Zealand, I dare say.

People in Australia think I’m on drugs when I recount stories of three-day games at school level. The famous Royal Thomian encounter, now in its 121st year in Colombo, is almost played along first-class timelines. Many first XI games in Brisbane are played over just one afternoon, certainly never more than one day in the private schools.

Yet, something happens in that crucial period between say 16-19 years of age when the other countries catch up to the subcontinent. It’s inexplicable. The only reason I can attribute it to is that perhaps the cream of Australian talent (perhaps 25 boys) get identified and are nurtured to a level that sees them compete with say India’s first XI for that age. In terms of depth, I don’t think Australia stand a chance. Hypothetically, if you had to pick a seventh XI from both countries, I reckon the Indian boys would win handsomely. But, in that select few that play for their country at U-19 level, the gap is almost negligible. It’s quite amazing really.

Clearly something else happens at grade cricket and first-class level that elevates Australia to a superior position. Perhaps it is physical strength or the battle-hardened psyche that comes with playing a brand of cricket that simply spits out the weak and timid players. That is another debate, best left for another blog piece.

New Zealand are an even more amazing case in point – with such a small population, steeped in rugby fever and with variable cricketing weather, their performance on a man for man basis is testament to their incredible sporting talent. I’ve watched a bit of cricket in South Africa but do not profess to understand their system enough to offer any sensible commentary as to how they seed their next generation of players. Is cricket a game for the common man in the Rainbow Nation or is it still a rich man’s sport, leaving football for the talent-rich masses in the townships?

I’d be terribly interested in reading your viewpoints on this essay from whatever global perspective. Is it that the Australians catch up in those last few years before an U-19 World Cup or that the Asian nations slow down? Does it matter greatly that this tournament is in New Zealand where the pitches may favour the Australians a bit more? Would the Aussies have been a decent-money bet to have still made the final if it was played in India or Pakistan? Subscribing to that theory, Pakistan must surely have been at long odds to make the final in New Zealand then.

One thing is for sure – you’d get better odds on Pakistan U-19 winning in New Zealand than the senior team winning in Perth this weekend. Umar Gul’s performance in the field, even before his awful finishing burst on Tuesday in Adelaide, hinted at something that was seriously amiss. But that’s another story.

Salman Butt was involved in two mindless run-outs in Hobart, instances which highlight Pakistan's poor out-cricket and how badly it lets them down © Getty Images

Forever, since cricket began, players from the Asian countries have been labelled wristy, mercurial, mystical, whippy and many other superlatives that attempt to describe their unique styles, as distinct from the non-Asian countries. These generalisations were probably easier to make some twenty years ago but many of them no longer apply. Players like Jayasuriya, Wasim Akram, Virender Sehwag, Tillakaratne Dilshan, Shoaib Akhtar and a host of others have shown off techniques, physiques and styles that defy those typical Asian sterotypes, positive and complimentary though such descriptions were meant to be.

On the flipside, Asian cricketers used to also suffer from the perception that they were a bit unathletic, had poor throwing arms and often did not do the basics as diligently as teams like Australia and South Africa were renowned to do, almost to the point of being boring. Right until the point when it paid dividends – often at the most unexpected instant.

Watching Pakistan’s openers starting off comfortably in pursuit of Australia’s 519 in Hobart, my cricket-crazy six year old son observed that the batsmen weren’t running as hard as the Aussies usually do. Piqued by his naïve analysis, I started paying more attention and found that he was absolutely spot on. Nothing major, nothing catastrophic, just little things like turning blind or running with gloves in hand or dawdling on the first run. Nothing catastrophic until day gave way to Evening Horribilis for the visitors, when they lost Mohammad Yousuf and Umar Akmal to ridiculous run-outs.
On a flat pitch where a player of Yousuf’s technique would have been virtually impossible to prise out, he found a way to dismiss himself. A few minutes later, Akmal joined him, another victim of not doing the simple things correctly.

It got me thinking… India and Sri Lanka have now moved beyond those basic stereotypes when it comes to doing the basics. Their fielding and running is generally no different to the other international teams, although their fast bowlers are still a bit cumbersome in the field compared to the Steyns, Johnsons, Andersons, McGraths etc. But generally speaking, both India and Sri Lanka do the little things with all the professionalism and attention to detail that you come to expect from Australia, South Africa, New Zealand and England.

So why then does Pakistan still continue to make basic errors, time and again, game after game? Their ability and skill is on par with anyone else in the world but they seem to give away 10% in all the facets of the game that don’t actually require much more than discipline and habit. As desperately disappointed as I was to see those two wasted run-outs today, it made me wonder why they still seem to make these basic errors.
It cannot be a lack of ability. The stunning T20 triumph in England and impressive, albeit erratic ODI performances, just proves that when they are on song, Pakistan can mix it with anyone. What amazes me is why these performances are so variable? You look at a team like Zimbabwe in their prime 10 years ago, when the Flowers, Strangs, Whittals, Heath Streak and Neil Johnson were regulars. What they lacked in sheer grunt under the bonnet, they made up for by consistently making up for their inadequacies by doing the basics right.

The opposite is true for Pakistan. Even in the field, when it comes to backing up or saving the odd single or catching the sitters, they make difficult things look ridiculously easy at times but so many of the basics are ignored. Is that merely a function of them being a bit rusty because they haven’t played much cricket recently? What happens in domestic cricket in Pakistan?

I have never seen the domestic system in operation so my question is a very genuine one. Is the focus mainly on the batting and bowling skills, to the exclusion of the other, less glamorous aspects of the game? Even when South Africa were isolated from international competition for so long, their cricketing basics were on par with world’s best practices when they returned, so that alone seems to be a poor excuse if there is a viable domestic structure in place.

Is it because the outfields in the formative years of playing the game, not always lush cricket fields but, laneways, beaches and other uneven surfaces do not lend themselves to diving? Why did Akmal not dive to save himself tonight? Can you imagine De Villiers, Hussey or Collingwood not diving full-length to make their ground? Had Akmal done that, it would just about have saved his skin (metaphorically, not literally). So what explanation do we have for this lack of instinct when it comes to these simple things?

Watching these last three Tests, it is clear that Pakistan’s skills are the equal of any other nation. Man for man, they compete in pure cricketing terms except when it comes to those little ‘one percenters’. It’s all over the park – fielding, running, stealing singles, backing up, throwing, catching technique and tail-enders slogging indiscriminately. Desperation. Discipline. Detail. Nothing that can’t be fixed with minor adjustments. Little things but they all add up to a significant deficit when compared to a team that plays with brutal efficiency, squeezing every ounce of performance out of seemingly lost causes, as Australia proved in Sydney.

If a six-year old boy can spot these things merely by watching the telecast, surely it must have attracted the attention of the coaches throughout Pakistani cricket? I can’t explain it but considering I’ve backed the draw in Hobart, I’m hoping that some Pakistani brilliance will emerge these next three days. If not mercurial Pakistani flair, at least some reliable Tasmanian rain might just save my bet!

Ricky Ponting’s instincts, footwork and eye make him a magnificent sight when taking on the short ball © Getty Images

Let’s get one thing straight up front. Ricky Ponting will forever be remembered as one of the greatest batsmen