From TS Trudgian, Canada

Brad Haddin - much improved over the past two years
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There is a gambling element to B.J. Haddin’s wicketkeeping. When Australia took on South Africa in Sydney 2009 he came up to the stumps while Andrew McDonald was bowling. McDonald is not an express bowler, but he is quick enough to make a wicketkeeper think twice. With the gloves Haddin is no Jack Blackham, nor is he Bertie Oldfield. The former stood up to even Fred ‘The Demon’ Spofforth, and took gave the quick man two stumpings; of the latter it is said that he exuded such grace and elegance that he would knock off just one bail when effecting stumpings off the quicks. But Haddin chose to approach the stumps and these were days before the Hannibal Lecter facemasks made popular by the World Twenty20 in 2009.

By standing up he kept the batsmen back in the crease, and since McDonald bowls such a straight line, the slightest seam movement could have him in with a stumping wrought from a lazy South African back foot. As it was, Boucher played a flamboyant cover drive, producing a thick outside edge which would have flown comfortably Haddin’s gloves ... if he had been standing back. Not the best advertisement for keeping up the stumps, sure, but at least Haddin was willing to put the burgeoning partnership under pressure, doing something. He almost affected a leg-side stumping several overs later — there is little better reward for a keeper.

Rod Marsh — who should know a thing or two about keeping — says that a keeper should be judged on the number of catches he holds, not of byes he concedes. What a relief: ‘Bad Hands’ had a torrid time keeping a clean sheet in the start of his career. (It would belie Anglo-Australian rivalry if I did not make mention that the record for the most byes conceded in a match is 52, held by Matt Prior.) Of course, Haddin is no Gilchrist, but we must move beyond that. His keeping has improved steadily since his permanency in the Australian side. Plenty of give off the inside hip, the patented Ian Healy flick of the heels in leaping for overhead balls, and the odd bit of inspired play make him the pick of the possible keepers during the Ashes.

He can bat too, although had he survived the second over at Lord’s back in 2009 — see Vol. II — then world-record run chases and my Dad’s pessimism could have been broken, and two-dozen schoolkids could have learned the lesson on which I was bred: Australia beat England at cricket — fact.

From TS Trudgian, Canada

Doug Bollinger - big, tall, fast and bustling
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I was huddled over some remarkably fine streaming coverage of Australia’s tour to New Zealand when I saw some vintage Bollinger. That, I promise, will be the first and last of any champagne moments throughout this article. Anyway, Bollinger took a wicket (I forget whose) and in a classic bout of enthusiasm lowered his head and raised his shirt to kiss the Australian logo on his breast. But it was not the green and gold emblem of Cricket Australia, but that of Victoria Bitter which felt the force of his osculatory might. The smile produced from taking the wicket became even wider after this mis-matching of logos — almost as wide as the VB executives who enjoyed the constant replays and free advertising.

But what a character: he does not have the latitudinal expanse of a Merv Hughes, but he is a big, tall, fast and bustling opening bowler. Perhaps Peter Siddle looks more intimidating than D.E. Bollinger (particularly when Siddle has the rather menacing zinc cream wrapped around his gnashing jaws). In any case, Bollinger is certainly an opening bowler’s opening bowler, none of these waving dandy-locks or Rexona advertisements shared by his English opening counterpart.

More often than not he bowls over the wicket, but due to his near-vertical release (as opposed to, say, Johnson’s slight round-arm) he can generate a surprisingly wide angle. It is this angle to the right-handers and his pace with the new ball that will ensure he has a dominant part to play in the Ashes (sure, England will have at least four left-handers in the team at any one time ... was it Keith Miller who said they shouldn’t be allowed to play the game? Ruining my analysis like that — the nerve).

I shall leave it to others to talk about his expertise with the mystical arts of reverse-swing. That is, after all, something which only enters the game after the first session, and so many Tests are decided in the first session’s play. The Doug does not have the prodigious conventional swing of The Hilf, but one can easily adapt Richie Benaud’s oft-heard epithet that the ‘ball need only spin half the width of the bat’ to see that sheer magnitude of swing is not the whole box-and-dice. Indeed, it is in the contrasts of Australia’s opening pair (for it is safe to assume that Bollinger and Hilfenhaus will share the new ball) that make for such a strong start to our bowling. If Stuart Broad could determine his role in the side (that is to say, decide, much like Mitchell Johnson, whether he is best suited at opening the innings or as the useful ‘stock’ bowler), then England might have such a formidable opening pair. Perhaps this is why Steve Finn has been given a run to see whether he can join Jimmy Anderson at the start of the day. Although since Chris Tremlett has been working on his swing (a right hook I think it was), Anderson might not be a dead-cert for the ’Gabba Test.

In any case, expect a huge cheer for Bollinger as he steams in, and an even larger one if, when batting, he manages to lay bat on ball.

From TS Trudgian, Canada

The new and improved Shane Watson
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My wife once asked me whether there was a need for batsmen to move their feet when playing a ‘stop’. A little questioning yielded that ‘stop’ meant ‘forward defensive stroke’. Is there a need? There most certainly is, said I. The conversation blossomed with mention of the insurance of adjacent bat and pad, the induced downward angle of the bat to deny any close fielders, and above all, the balance of having one’s head over the ball. Well, at least one side of the conversation blossomed. Seeking an example to prove my point, I pointed to the computer screen, which showed the Australian openers in the first morning of the Mohali Test. Balance, my dear ... , oh, well, that is Simon Katich, he is a little different. A propitious single brought Watto on strike. Now, watch his balance as he gets in behind this ball. To my chagrin Watson played ‘on the walk’, and not on a Matthew-Hayden-walk-down-and-front-foot-pull-the-bowler-for-four, thanks very much guv’nor. No, he played as if the ball was the last of the day’s play: no sooner had it struck his bat than his right foot emerged from its (rightful) side-on position and his sideways movement took him a few paces towards point. I let out a small shout of fury at being denied proof of my pontificating, while my wife smiled and resumed her knitting, thinking that I should best stick to my sines and cosines.

It was a curious observance, and, like all trifles, was one which I started to notice almost constantly during Watson’s innings. To pace and to spin alike, he would produce a lengthy stride, defend the ball, and almost topple over to his right to face the camera almost front on, French-cricket style. Forget aesthetics, a lean towards the right, or even a shifting in momentum to cause such a lean, leaves one open to a ball nipping back in, and UDRS or no, a Lawson, Blaxland and Wentworth special. How can he manage this? The simplest resolution is of course, he has an average of over fifty opening the batting for Australia: in my one and only game for the Oxford Blues I batted at No. 11 and was involved in a fifty-run stand of which my contribution amounted to zero runs from zero balls — thanks for playing.

There have been articles written about the personality of Watson being different from that of the ‘standard’ Australian batsman, whatever that may mean. To me, there is something ‘not quite right’ about his batting. But who cares? He is the perfect pugnacious Yang to Katich’s prudent Yin. He may have had trouble converting fifties to hundreds, but that is one of the lighter burdens one can be forced to bear. He is not a one-gear-wonder: his 93 and 120 against Pakistan in the last Boxing Day Test came at a comfortable, but not cavalier, clip.

That he has been spared a lot of bowling duties is one of the best moves for his career. Moreover, even when he does bowl these days, it is with noticeably less pace, and hence, less stress on the body. Australia finally gave up the request to shoe-horn Watson in as the next Keith Miller, and were content with his fulfilling a role as a (most useful) reserve seam-bowler. That he and Katich can change gears (with one virtually changing down while the other changes up) gives Australia a clear advantage in the opening to their innings. It would be foolhardy to predict anything less than one century opening stand, and one ton for the Watt himself.

From TS Trudgian, Canada

Expect Michael Hussey to deliver in the Ashes
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In terms of most recent Ashes form, M.E.K. Hussey is at the top of the batting pile: his 121 in the fifth Test at The Oval was the highest score in the final three matches of the 2009 series. It was an innings which kept alive the slim optimism of an Australian jail-break. Set an improbable (my Dad would of course say ‘impossible’ — see Vol I) 546 runs to win, Australia were 2 for 90 when Mike Hussey joined Ricky Ponting. This was early in day four of the Test, on a Sunday. On day three I had enjoyed the magnanimity of breaking the spirits of young fifteen-year-old bowlers by uncouthly belting them back over their heads — in other words, I was playing village cricket. All the pundits there, and village teams are full of sagacious musings over a post-game pint, agreed that if Australia batted out the rest of the Test, they would win. Easy game from the pub!

Once Ponting and Hussey put on a century stand without glimpse of being dismissed, I declared to my wife that it was all getting too exciting to stand around to try to help her with the Sunday roast. I had been dithering betwixt kitchen benches to sort out the rebellion of the roast veges and attend to the precious demands of the chicken to be basted every so often. But, and I’m sure most cricket fans can relate to this, as the reception in my house is poor, my moving from one bench to another induced machine-gun fire static from the radio. I had to time my moves to coincide with a boundary or the end of an over. But even my shrewdest endeavours were not able to permit unmolested listening. The game was getting far too exciting to miss a small tit-bit of wisdom from C.M.J.

So I went upstairs, with the radio, and lay down on a camp bed. If, instead of Test Match Special, I had Barber’s Adagio for Strings playing, the scene would resemble one from Platoon. Ponting was dismissed — quick singles are all well and good, but why tempt fate when embarking on chasing down 500+? — but the Huss batted on. Determined? Sure. Patient? Of course. Punishing of loose bowling? Naturally. And Hussey was pretty good too.

He was perhaps not able to exercise his powerful off-side stroke play, particularly backward of point, in India. Unless England post four slips and three gullies, I should think that Hussey will make no fewer than two centuries, and four over-fifty scores in the series.

From TS Trudgian, Canada

Mitchell Johnson: pace spearhead and a handy lower-order batsman
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I played my final season of cricket at the Australian National University when Mitchell Johnson burst onto the international one-dayer scene. This was during the period in which Australia was experimenting with one-day bowlers to accompany McGrath and Lee: Mick Lewis, Mitchell Johnson and Brett Dorey all made their debuts in the 2005-6 season. While the bookends have been recycled, MG Johnson is probably better now than ever. Dorey who must surely hold the record as Australia’s tallest cricketer, was beset by (understandable) back and joint ache; Lewis may not have recovered from being belted for a luckless 113 from his ten overs during that run-chase in Johannesburg.

Because of Brett Lee’s retirement and Shaun Tait’s self-imposed exile, Johnson has remained the only seasoned out-and-out quick bowler in the Australian Test squad. It makes sense to refer to Johnson as the ‘leader’ of the pack of bowlers, even though he is no longer thrown the new ball. The reasons he deserves his place at the top of the pile are his pace and surprising bounce.

Anyone with a pinch of cricketing sense expects Bollinger to extract bounce from a wicket: tall man, high arm action, bowling at pace: QED. But Johnson’s bowling from a much lower height also extracts bounce, and at times surprising amounts. Not only is the Mitch shorter than the Doug, but the former’s slightly slingy and round-arm action delivers the ball from lower still. He also appears to amble in, rather than steam in express-from-Roma-Street-style. But the strong shoulders and long arc traced by his left arm in preparing to deliver the ball generate the surprising pace, and thus the surprising bounce.

I remember in 2009 I led the Balliol College team to Cambridge for a two-day game. As we were having breakfast on the second morning, some of the players were trying to analyse a similar situation: why our big and bustling fast bowler delivered the ball more slowly than his shorter opening partner. Numerous explanations abounded— one of those on the edge of sanity was that the shorter opening bowler actually bowled more slowly, but he appeared to be faster, since he bowled a ‘heavy ball’. I stopped with a spoon of Weetabix raised mid-way to my mouth and declared that such substitution of equipment would be highly irregular, even in a pre-season friendly. But no, these people were serious! “The ball is actually travelling more slowly, but it ah ... feels as though it’s travelling more quickly since, ah ... it was delivered with more force.” Oh yes, I know what you are thinking. Surely if it were to be delivered with more force it would actually, and not just apparently, travel faster. This occurred to some of the saner players, but it was shot down by the wise old men of Gotham who smiled, shook their heads and said ‘It doesn’t work like that’. Indeed.

But anyway, back to Johnson.

It would probably be a bridge too far to suggest that Johnson’s batting would give him the nod over a truly great bowler like a Glenn McGrath. But it is a point worth stressing that there are many worse No. 8 batsmen in the world. Indeed, his batting gives the selectors an option, or at least denies then another excuse, to play five specialist bowlers. Bollinger, Johnson, Hilfenhaus, Smith and Hauritz would cover most eventualities, but such a combination is unlikely given that Shane Watson is still seen as being able to shoulder some of the seam bowling duties. The counter to this is that, sure, once upon a time this was true, but them were days when Watto used to break down more frequently than an English scrum. Yes, he can still send down some overs, but the Tests in India show that the taking of 20 wickets is our main concern. This contra-counter should lead people, ever so gently, towards the five-bowler attack, taking solace in Johnson’s ability to offer a rearguard defense or lower-order onslaught, if need be.

Whether or not he manages to sneak a ball with a centre of lead onto the field, he has the effect of bowling a ‘heavy’ ball, inasmuch as it tends to surprise the batsman. I do not think it premature to predict then that it will be the difference in lengths, rather than in lines, that will separate the two teams in the Ashes series. That Johnson naturally bowls a (deceptively) slanting line across the right handed batsman — he bowls quite close to the stumps and due to the low arm he almost delivers over the batsman’s leg stump — means that his bouncer will be naturally the most well-directed. Pace and bounce are his weapons, with swing on the second tier — the reverse of, say, Hilfenhaus. Expect a few to clatter into the helmets of Strauss and Cook and for gully and point to be dealt their fair share of catches.

From TS Trudgian, Canada

Ben Hilfenhaus: can swing, and adapt
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Ben Hilfenhaus may have begun his Test career as a ‘stock’ bowler — an epithet which seems to convey an unfortunate admission of mediocrity — but he has shown, in the Tests against Pakistan in England, and recently against India at Mohali, that he is becoming the weapon of choice, particularly when the ball begins to swing. Australia have been searching for a quality swing bowler, at a reasonable clip, since the departure of Jason Gillespie in 2006 — that will teach him to score a double-hundred.

Leaving aside the sorcery of reverse-swing, Hilfenhaus is the best exponent of swing in the current Australia squad. It is said that the high arm of Doug Bollinger induces some reverse-swing, but even the commentators quickest to proclaim ‘Don’t look now, but the ball is reversing’ would agree that 40 overs, or at the very least 30, must be bowled with the ‘mere’ weapon of conventional swing bowling. ‘The slightly pigeon-toed Hilfenhaus’ — words from Christopher Martin-Jenkins, not me — bowling a teasing line with variable away-swing is the perfect start to Australia’s efforts in the field.

But he is not a one-trick pony, as some would label Ryan Sidebottom: a great bowler of swing in the overcast north of England or the humid days at the ’Gabba, but a relatively innocuous trundler otherwise. During the recent Test at Mohali, Hilfenhaus did have the ball hooping around from time to time, but when the conditions were less favourable, he was able to temper the little remaining swing with a very consistent line of middle- and off-stump. It is this combination of style and guile that probably has Hilfenhaus pipping his English bowling equivalent (Steve Finn, say) by a nose. James Anderson is a fine proponent of swing bowling, but perhaps as the ‘strike’ weapon he is best contrasted with Mitchell Johnson (see the next volume).

The first-order approximation when bowling outswingers is to pitch every ball up to entice the drive and, if you are lucky, the nick. I have lost count of the number of times I heard Boycott on TMS bemoan the attitudes of almost all bowlers (with the noble exception of Yorkshireman R.J. Sidebottom, of course) who bowled at Headingley: they never ‘got it up’. That is something which I can neither confirm nor deny; in any case, pitching the ball up is a good start. One problem arises when you are not permitted sufficiently many slips — perhaps the run-chase is getting tight and the skipper needs to plug holes elsewhere.

Another is when the ball stops swinging, or the seam is ill-positioned and the ball doesn’t swing on that particular delivery: then for the batsman it is money for old rope. Both of these ‘problems’ occurred in Mohali: during the fifth day Ponting did not have four slips (nor did he have a third man and there was a small bounty of runs made from edges and steers through the vacant fourth-slip area). Moreover, after the first few overs, the prodigious swing had disappeared. VVS Laxman, who still haunts my dreams as only the second man (the first being Lara) who is destined to snatch an Australian defeat from the jaws of victory, reached forward and pounded these to the cover point boundary. It was Hilfenhaus who led the counter-attack, mixing up his full swing-for-the-nick deliveries with balls short of a length on an off-stump line and the occasional bouncer.

That both Sehwag and Raina should be dismissed off short deliveries should not have come as a surprise. Perhaps though, one might have thought these balls to be delivered with the height of Bollinger or the ferocity of Johnson.

That it was Hilfenhaus each time emphasises his skill in adapting his bowling to suit the conditions — of both pitch and batsman. It would be silly to blame his figures of none for 100 in the first innings on the pitch alone, but he was bowling great spells of full-pitched outswing, and the edges induced were either not carrying, or going ‘through’ the slips.

Certainly he will be a handful in Brisbane, but I am particularly excited about watching him bowl at Perth. Perhaps a further 250 or so for England to chase on the final day, Strauss well set on 50 and Trott in ‘the zone’ (although he takes five minutes to get there after each delivery), the Fremantle Doctor set to operate, four slips and two gullies in place, and the Hilf running in to a packed WACA crowd. . . game on.

From TS Trudgian, Canada

Ricky Ponting: the gambler’s gambler, has figured out how to beat the house
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If, in the past ten years of cricket, there has been a better puller and hooker of the short ball than R.T. Ponting, then it is only a ten-year-old kid named Dave who spends all his time swotting sixes on StickCricket. Watching Ponting rock onto the back foot to deposit a ball behind square imbues one with a sense of precision. Footage and first-hand accounts of Sir Donald Bradman playing the same shot invites wonder: wonder that his feet could move into position so quickly, and in this respect The Don is said to have George Headley as his companion up on the dais. Footage and tales of Sir Vivian Richards conjure up thoughts of fearlessness, hooking and pulling without flinching, inviting the next ball to be faster and shorter, and so it was, and invariably hit further. But then, Richards didn’t have to play against his own pace battery of Holding, Roberts, Marshall and Co. Seeing Matthew Hayden pull, more often than not on the front foot was to see sheer muscle and power. But with Ponting, the shot conjures up a certain clockwork regularity. Ball short, rock back, swivel around, thank you very much guv’nor.

It has been said that Punter is going through a losing streak at the gaming tables when pulling. Most probably, but given his string of successes with the stroke over the years, a small nadir was inevitable. There are the nay-sayers who talk about the failing of the eye to detect whether the ball is short enough to be ‘on’, and these people would have you believe that Ponting is actually 55 and not twenty years more sprightly. These swindlers would say that Ponting’s pull will never regain the Midas touch. Perhaps this argument might have some weight in the debate as to the leading run and century scorer after the retirements of Tendulkar and Ponting, but that is a story for another day — and is getting more tiresome each time we hear it. No, I am concerned about his role in the forthcoming Ashes series.

Yes, he is due for a big score: granted this in itself matters little in the build-up to the Ashes. Ponting in 2010 is not like Taylor in 1998 and nor is he like Waugh in 2003 (although, interestingly enough, both averaged more than 50 in their last 20 Test outings. Tubs’ 334* is an average booster if ever there was). It is difficult to imagine the negative thoughts towards his batting had Australia continued the dominance of the Steve Waugh era.

Jeff Thomson has no qualms with decrying Ponting’s captaincy as ‘ordinary’ and that his approach to setting the field belies his gambling cognomen. The days are certainly passed when scoring 500 runs and then throwing the ball to Messrs McGrath and Warne guaranteed a hefty victory inside four days.

Now Ponting needs to nurture the young blood of the side, while doing all those basics in the captain’s manual: regularly rotating the main bowlers, and the ends at which they bowl, chopping and changing field placings, and venturing into the unexpected (throwing the ball to M.E.K. Hussey, or more dramatically, M.J. Clarke in Sydney 2008) — but he has to learn these tricks, not merely revise them, having had no need to resort to them in the past.

Expect then, to see the gambling nature come out in his captaincy in Australia.He joins Billy Murdoch in a select group of two Australian captains who have handed back the Ashes in England. This, as judged by all and sundry after his comments in the aftermath of the 2009 Ashes series, displeased him greatly.

In familiar territory, and away from the Gary Pratts of this world, it is a fair bet that Ponting will be much more aggressive in the forthcoming series. For the first time in years we will have an old-fashioned combination of leg-spin and off-spin by two front-line bowlers. He also has the option of tossing the ball to all barring himself and Haddin, plenty of world-class slip fielders, and excellent short-leg in Simon Katich, and a genuine allrounder in Shane Watson. He will be cutting and thrusting with order and the odd dash of randomness. Like most skippers, when he is making the right decisions and the team is playing well, he will come into his own while batting. That line of reasoning doesn’t apply to a Courtney Walsh, but when you take 500 wickets you can bat as you damn well please.

Lastly the footwork of Ponting deserves some comment. I have seen no cricketer make a larger stride forwards to a ball short of a length. As a short man Ponting is unable to retain his right foot on the ground if he wishes to prod necessarily far forward. Tendulkar, granted is even shorter, but plays more on his toes and relies less on mammoth strides down the wicket. There have been some slight problems with this in the past, in particular lbw dismissals to a swinging ball — although his maiden innings, four short of a century, was terminated by this striding forward without regard to the ball’s missing a second set of stumps. But Ponting ensures that balls which are verging on being pitched short are met on the drive.

He is a cunning customer of course: if the balls short of a length are hit on the front foot then Joe bowler tries to pitch shorter still. Then we see the clockwork motion of rocking back, swivelling and pulling for four: Punter, the gambler’s gambler, has figured out how to beat the house.

From TS Trudgian, Canada

Michael Clarke, a man ready to assume leadership
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I had the bitter-sweet pleasure of watching Michael Clarke bat on the fifth day of the 2009 Ashes series, at Lord’s. Australia were set what would have been a world-record run chase of 522 to win. The day’s play started with Australia 5 for 313, with Clarke and Brad Haddin unbeaten on 125 and 80, respectively. Midway through the fourth day Australia were 5 for 128 and we looked for all money to be preparing to spike our guns and pull the flag down for what had been 70-odd year fortress at Lord’s ... but now the indomitable Australian fighting spirit was coming to the fore. A mere trifling 200-odd to win, with two batsmen well set, both of whom had shown limited weakness against the relatively innocuous Lord’s wicket. But my Dad, forever the pessimist, resorted to the age-old maxim that ‘everybody is vulnerable when starting again’. And so it came to pass that Haddin was dismissed in the second over, and the paternal pessimist decided that we had best open our pre-packed lunch soon (as well as the first of our permitted four pints of beer [thank you MCC members]) as we ‘probably won’t make it that far anyway’. Lamentably, he was right. With two-dozen schoolkids behind us cheering incessantly, and thinking that every player with a hat was Andrew Strauss, Dad and I watched as Australia were dismissed before the lunch interval, entitling us to the poor-man’s consolation prize of a 20% refund.

Though Clarke batted on for only another 10 overs before missing a straight Swann’un, it was the manner of his batting which was most impressive. Two-hundred runs to make in a day with No. 8 new at the crease is not a batsman’s idea of a good time: he faces criticism for doing anything short of pulling off a Botham-esque barrage by landing on Chance a few times and managing to get out of jail, free. Clarke rotated the strike, allowed Mitchell Johnson (who, despite having a crisis of confidence and overestimating the dimensions of the pitch while bowling, is one of the better No. 8s since Lawrence Dallaglio) to get settled, left well alone the still swinging ball which was Haddin’s undoing, and with furtive, yet frequently cheerful, looks at the scoreboard, he was setting the stage for the biggest run-chase of all time. In short, he showed ‘maturity’; this is not used in the weakened, cabbage-water fashion to say that someone who was hot-headed is no slightly less so (KP Pietersen, anyone?), but to say that he has stepped into the breach, earned his spurs and become what was expected of him: a man ready to assume the leadership.

A hundred on debut and a fairytale 6-9 in his fourth Test signalled, or rather trumpeted, the arrival of MJ Clarke. His salad days were to last for a couple of years, before he was told that a stint back at Shield cricket would ‘do him the world of good’. It is out of this demotion that the focused, yet freely playing Clarke arose. Clarke has shown, not merely in Test matches, but in his stand-in stints as one-day captain, that he has a mind for the game. That he captains the side in Twenty20 cricket is, to some degree, of no real importance for this discussion, and his much-maligned ‘inability’ to change gears in between the Test and hit-and-giggle format is something to be addressed another day. Clarke has been both playing lieutenant in leadership and acting as heir presumptive for the position of No. 3.

At the moment he is able to enter (I hope!) as the ball is becoming old, the field begins to spread and spinners try an over or two. That is where I wish to spend at least one paragraph: Clarke’s footwork against spin. It was said of the batsmen in the Golden Age of cricket (Ranjitsinhji, Trumper and Hobbs in particular) that one of their defining qualities was the ability to score off both the front and the back foot, with no pre-determined preference. The advice of ‘if in doubt, push out’ is sound enough, and I was bowled by a grubber at Blenheim Palace on a wet May wicket after throwing this caution into the wind. But most of us are not good batsman (I am certainly not, as evinced by a mate’s coining the verb ‘grim-reapered’ to be used in the phrase ‘You just grimreapered the stumps’, after I had been dismissed hit-wicket following an overly lusty and ultimately one-handed pull-shot), and so the adages we need are not those for the big-game players. Clarke pushes forward, sure, and when he does he is quicker on his feet than most. He does not thunder after balls, the pitch of which he can not possible reach, but rather all front-foot shots (not necessarily to half-volleys) be played according to the length he wishes. When the ball is a trifle shorter, in the zone of indetermination (which is not so ominous sounding as ‘corridor of uncertainty’) and he is in doubt, he does not slavishly adhere to our pushing-out epithet. The right-foot goes back and to his left, the front leg straightens and the ball is hit mere inches before the stumps and driven for what might be called a late cover-drive.

Pup is due some runs again, and although his form against England was great in July 2009, he will be keen to settle the so-near, so-far innings at Lord’s. And if in say, the Sydney Test, Australia needs three wickets with two overs to spare, who better to have a trundle?

From TS Trudgian, Canada

Simon Katich's strengths are his patience and his ability to adapt to the situation © AFP

His bizarre footwork aside, Simon Katich is surely the opener’s opener. His ability to leave the ball, patiently, over after over, is something that is reminiscent of an old-fashioned approach to cricket. The price he puts on his wicket has been analysed by statisticians hither and yon, but in my mind his temperament must surely single him out as one of our most outstanding opening batsmen, and a fortiori, give us the first of many head starts to the Ashes.

The traditional opening bat is almost as rare these days as a smear-free election campaign. It is, after all, a classic exercise in investing in an innings. Our conventional opener will not be alarmed to face consecutive maidens, given that batting is only going to become easier once he adapts to the conditions of the wicket, the variations in the bowling attack, and gets his feet and body moving with fluent, if not Calypso, rhythm. Some ne’er-do-well pundits will say that in the modern game of scoring four runs an over or (better - read worse - when India and Sri Lanka engage in another run-bloated draw: 700 for 4 plays 650 for 6 — bowlers: thanks for coming) there is no place for indulgence in dot balls and ‘getting the eye in’ over the course of a session. Hello, Mr Sehwag.

But even these maverick commentators will concede that 80* from 150 balls is much better than a biff-laden bludgeoning of 30 from 20, before planting the feet in concrete for yet another cavalier uppercut over point, only to be caught at third man. By your leave, Mr Sehwag.

Here, though, is where the Kat gets the cream. He will play on and on, letting balls go, nurdling them onto the leg-side for ones and twos, and get to 20 from 80 deliveries. But then he opens up, and not in a power-play how-do-you-do manner, but he uses the time and energy he has hitherto invested into his innings, and starts to kick back, living the high life on the interest payments.

His pair of 80s in the first MCC Spirit of Cricket Test against Pakistan this last English summer, proved that, albeit in different ways. In both innings he top-scored — in the first at a reasonable clip (80 from 138), and in the second, when he was trying like Lot to escape but his partners kept on looking behind them, he scored 83 from 174.

The first innings would test the patience of these Johnny-come-latelies who are infatuated with Twenty20 tonking. Indeed, I was watching in the early hours of the Canadian morning, and saw his strike-rate tip lower and lower, almost falling through the ‘10’ mark could you imagine?! But then, once he was in, he pushed and cut (he doesn’t cut as well as B.C. Lara, but then, who does?) his way out of the doldrums. He never looked like getting out. I write that sheepishly, since, during the ball on which he was finally dismissed, it was plain to anyone with half an eye and a cork tooth that he looked like getting out. Anyway, he is not afraid to toe the traditional line of looking after your wicket, while the runs look after themselves.

Certainly he is not in the same sphere of influence as Matthew Hayden, who could take a game away from the opposition with a session of front-foot pulls and, almost Trudgian-esque, advancing down the wicket. But it is the patience of Katich and his ability to adapt to the situation (cf. the first and second innings mentioned above) which gives him the edge. Moreover, the manner in which he scores his runs is very traditional. With the exception of his despatching a few long hops and full tosses, his run-scoring strokes in front of the wicket are invariably produced from soft, seemingly too soft, pushes.

That the defensive stroke can be turned into a run-scoring stroke without any loss of the technical sheen (viz. wristy flicks across the line) is a salute to the openers of the past. There might even be a nurdle to the leg-side, but with Katich it will be played with even softer hands than it will with Collingwood, the nurdliest of all nurdlers. A small push, timed to perfection. And how does he guarantee the timing for such a stroke? By having watched ball and ball pass by, investing in his innings and knowing that, when he does play at the ball, there is a high chance that this will yield the mono-syllabic declaration of approval that Michael Holding gives on air, ‘Runs.’

From Jacob Astill, Australia

Which of these two men is better suited to lead Australia? © AFP

Please excuse my brief philosophising, but in cricket, as in life, you need to ask the right questions to get the right answers. With some ordinary records under his belt and baffling tactical decisions, quite obviously the conclusion of Ricky Ponting's tenure as Australian captain is at its when and not if stage. But the thing that astounds me is that while questions are quite rightly being asked of Ponting, the sound of those questioning Michael Clarke's seemingly inevitable progression to new skipper is being drowned out by a butterfly's wingbeat ten miles away.

The Australian Test captaincy has always been a much more serious job than in other Test countries, perhaps because of the usual abundance of potential candidates or the pressure to succeed placed on the eventual victor to follow in the footsteps of some of the most successful captains and teams in history.

In recent times, current captain Ricky Ponting has fallen foul of this pressure, with Australia falling from one of the greatest teams in history and undoubtedly the No. 1 in Tests and ODIs, to a miserable fifth in the ICC's Test rankings. Although I am an outspoken critic of Ponting's captaincy - I still maintain that Australia lost the first Test in the recent series in India because of terrible captaincy from Ponting during VVS Laxman and Ishant Sharma's match-winning partnership - it has been an extremely difficult period for the Australians regardless, losing some of the greatest players in history and having to go along with some ordinary selections.

But it is this slip in the rankings and some weaknesses in the side that have led many of us to contemplate Australian cricket post-Ponting, and depending on how the Ashes plays out this summer, this period could be upon us sooner rather than later.

But (there's always a "but") is Michael Clarke the right man to lead Australia? It may surprise some of you to learn that I firmly believe no. There are three main reasons behind this: Firstly, he has no experience. A dozen or so dead-rubber fill-ins as one-day captain should not be the requirements for graduating to your captaincy diploma. Clarke has absolutely no experience captaining in first-class cricket, and I think that for him to have any chance of fulfilling his aspirations to captain the Test side he should serve his apprenticeship as a first-class captain learning the unique tactical nuances of the extended game.

Secondly, we need a fresh approach. A side-effect of not having had a protracted period (or any period) in charge of a first-class side means that basically everything Clarke knows about captaincy has come from Ricky Ponting, Australia's worst captain in at least 25 years. All the talk about Australia being in a rebuilding phase is completely true, and to grow as an international side we need to see a captain with fresh ideas and an unbiased outlook on the side, not the same old stale ideas just coming from a different player.

And last but absolutely not least, I think there are better candidates. Cameron White and Simon Katich seem to fit the criteria; they firstly deserve a place in the Test side (White in particular would solve Australia's first slip issues), tactically they add something more than Ponting or Clarke, and they've shown that they can successfully lead cricket teams. Before leaving the State scene a couple of years ago to be recalled as an opening batsman, Simon Katich led NSW to the Sheffield Shield and showed that his cricket didn't suffer under the burden of captaincy, totalling over 1000 runs in that 07/08 season. He also led NSW to the inaugural Champions League Twenty20 title in 2009, showing that he was not a static captain devoid of ideas. If nothing else, Twenty20 cricket does promote tactical innovation. Perhaps the only item in Katich's con list is his age; at 35 he should really be looking to vacate the international scene around the same side as Ponting.

Still, he remains a genuine but ultimately short-term option. Cameron White would be my choice as Ponting's successor. Under him, Victoria have become the undisputed leading side in Australian domestic cricket, making umpteen finals in the Sheffield Shield, one-day competition, and Big Bash over the last few years. Unfortunately for him, he's been labelled as a limited-overs specialist and gaining a recall to the Test side as a specialist batsman does not seem to have crossed the selectors' minds, despite averaging over 40 in first-class cricket, and having flourished as a batsman in recent one-day series for the international side.

Regardless of the end result, Michael Clarke, for me, will remain unfit to captain the Australian cricket team in the long term. We can only hope that a grave mistake is not made by anointing a man who is unfit to take the role, because in a "rebuilding phase" the wrong leadership could potentially cause the Australian side to drift backwards