Misbah-ul-Haq uses a hand-sign to illustrate his point about the cyclical nature of fashion © AFP

Saturday, 21st May
Though the market for Ashes literature may be more crowded than an elevator at an obesity convention, it seems there’s always room for one more, hence the existence of Andrew Strauss’s new effort, Winning the Ashes Down Under: The Captain’s Story. Described by one reviewer as “another bloody Ashes book”, it is a stirring tale of how a team of professional sportsmen battled against the odds to beat another team who weren’t quite as good. This epic rollercoaster story is told in three parts:

Part One: Arrive in Australia
Part Two: Beat lower-ranked Test opponents
Part Three: Return home

Sunday, 22nd May
It is a peculiar thing, this Morgan situation. A man makes himself available to play Tests for England, flies all the way back from India to take part in a trial game to demonstrate his readiness to play Test cricket, and then has to answer questions about his priorities. It seems quite straightforward. He wants to test himself against the best players on the biggest stages, so he spends his early season time playing high-pressure cricket in the IPL rather than pottering around in the shires accumulating easy runs. What’s the problem?

Tuesday, 24th May
Pakistan’s visit to the Caribbean has come to an end with a 1-1 Test scoreline that left the viewer wondering whether these teams were equally good or just as bad as each other. An intriguing if peculiar little tour also threw up the following thoughts:

1. That the captaincy of the Pakistan cricket team is as inconstant and unpredictable as the world of haute couture. Right now, it seems that thirtysomething veterans are back in, Misbah is quite the thing and suddenly that hand-clapping, floppy-fringed look that everyone was raving about a few months ago seems to belong to a quainter time, like bell-bottomed trousers and responsible investment banking.

2. That West Indies is the new south Asia. As it happens, I like low, slow, crumbly result pitches that take prodigious spin. I just don’t like them in the Caribbean. That’s the wrong place for them. What chance have the next generation of Ambroses, Walshes and Marshalls got when they charge to the crease, let fly and watch the ball splat into the earth with a sigh and trundle towards the batsman at knee height?

3. That two Test matches is not a series, it is a pair of isolated incidents.

"So Andrew, you mean to say as captain I can't ask my players to shine my shoes and do my homework? Where's the fun then?" © Getty Images

Tuesday, May 3rd
The word ashes has many meanings. It’s the plural of a well-known species of tree belonging to the genus Fraxinus. It’s the correct phonetical transcription of the sound the Queen makes when she sneezes. But to Graeme Swann, it’s the name of the greatest sporting event on the planet. Don’t believe me? Here’s what he said in today’s Independent:

“The Ashes is the greatest sporting event on the planet.”

Told you. Graeme’s a likeable chap so let’s give him a chance. Is there any way in which this statement could be correct? Is there another dimension in which this might be true? Can it really be the case that an event watched by a small minority of people in two of the world’s 193 sovereign countries is the greatest on the planet? No, almost certainly not, and no.

It isn’t really his fault. Cricket hereabouts runs on Ashes time (for instance, it’s currently quarter past Ashes) and everything that is not Ashes exists in a haze of dreamy indifference, which might perhaps explain the continued existence of the County Championship, the world’s oldest living museum. He is a product of his cricket culture and his obsession with a little brown pot is, I suppose harmless.

And he does a nice line in old fashioned English understatement:

“We want to be No. 1 in both Test and one dayers. We’ve got a better chance of doing it in Test cricket, whereas the one-dayers might take a bit longer.”

Just a bit, Graeme…

Wednesday, May 4th
As he gleamed under the floodlights, his burnished skin the colour of a nicely done barbecued sausage, Captain Shane knew the game was up. There was nothing left but to resort to that thing he does involving his nose, his forefinger and his thumb that looks as though he is trying to prevent a nosebleed but is actually his way of saying that he’d like to use the thick end of a cricket bat to bludgeon his colleagues to death one at a time, if cricket etiquette didn’t frown upon that sort of thing.

Stuart Binny was the main culprit. But as a fielding duffer myself, I enjoyed his performance, particularly his first error, in which the ball appeared to pass straight through his navel en route to the boundary. It is always reassuring to get a reminder that most professionals hate fielding just like the rest of us do. Let’s be honest, its an unpleasant, time-consuming and tedious activity, only enjoyed by a few South Africans and the odd Australian who has spent too long in the sun.

Thursday, May 5th
What a splendid idea! Three captains! Everyone agrees that having a captain is a good thing. Far better, for example, than not having a captain. So three captains must be three times as good! And England have added a nice touch, ranking their captains based on the calibre of their private school. Extensive analysis reveals that their innovative three-headed skipper strategy will have the following outcome:

1. After a poor series against India and having relinquished two-thirds of his power, Andrew Strauss will be under intense pressure to step down.
2. Deputy Alastair Cook will be unavailable, a broken man, having dropped himself from the one-day team due to a strike rate of 7.00.
3. Deputy deputy, Stuart Broad, will be serving his third ban of the summer, this time for setting fire to the umpire’s shoes after a marginal wide call.
4. In the absence of anyone else, a fourth candidate will emerge, unite the three formats and lead England into a glorious new age of arm-waving, top-of-the-range sunglasses and flashy defeats. All hail the second coming of KP!

KP finds a better way for preparing for the World Cup is to watch a ball being slammed across a court countless times © Getty Images

Saturday, 29th January
What could be more teeth-grindingly depressing than the appalling news that the years 2013 to 2015 will contain no less than THREE Ashes series? Well one or two things, I suppose. Wolverhampton in the rain. Discovering that Osama Bin Laden has moved in next door. Being trapped overnight in a lift with Brett Lee. Discovering that Brett has brought his guitar with him. But that’s about all.

The only consolation is that by the autumn of 2015, all those people for whom the Ashes is more important than cricket will have come to understand. They too will be sick of the brain-numbing hype-mongery, the plague of pifflesome previews and the Graeme Swann video diaries. Personally, I will be retiring to a salt hotel on the edge of the Atacama Desert in May 2013 where I will remain until it is all over. You are welcome to join me. Just as long as you don’t mention the A-word.

Sunday, 30th January
So now we’re booing Michael Clarke? Really? Does the egregious Mr Pietersen get such treatment even though every time he opens his mouth he sounds like a particularly tactless Terminator trying to blend into human society? Did Paul Collingwood feel his lugs humming with boos for those long periods in his Test career when he appeared not to know which way up to hold the bat? Did grumpy old Ricky Ponting get booed? Well, you get the idea, anyway.

Michael Clarke is a good cricketer out of form, which it seems is a lot worse than being a bad cricketer out of form. Worse still, he has committed the heinous crime of being a celebrity. But why is he a celebrity? Did he once eat a plate of cockroaches on a jungle reality show? Was he involved in a love triangle with a waitress and the Foreign Minister? Did he come third in a televised Latin dance competition? No, he’s a celebrity because he’s very good at cricket. He’s a fair dinkum celebrity, you might say, if “fair dinkum” is the kind of phrase you like to use.

Monday, 31st January
One of the oddities of modern cricket is how little its practitioners seem to enjoy playing it; indeed their enjoyment of said pastime seems to decline at the same rate with which their salaries increase. The more money you throw at a cricketer, it seems, the more likely he is to complain about having to play cricket. Take Jesse Ryder. He has informed us, via that open drainage pipe to the ego, Twitter, that having to play for Wellington the other day was, “a waste of time”.

Now, if he was suggesting that, set against the vastness of the universe, our little sport is an insignificant speck in the vacuum cleaner of time or if he was attempting to communicate some of the existential pointlessness of all human endeavour, then fair enough. But I have a feeling that “waste of time” is just code for “I’m too important”. You would have thought he’d be happy just be fit, healthy and playing the game he is so talented at. But no. It seems that Hollywood Jesse picks his movies these days.

And then there’s KP. The man is a PR volcano, a brooding, rumbling presence who every so often erupts in an explosion of hot, gassy nonsense, spewing dusty clichés and molten inanities in all directions.

“Our schedule is ridiculous going into this World Cup. It has been for England teams for a long time and that’s probably why England have not done well in World Cups.”

Yes Kevin. That’s probably why England have never won the World Cup. Because they’ve wasted their time playing 50-over cricket in preparation for a 50-over cricket tournament, when they could have been busy playing golf, opening supermarkets or spending quality time on Twitter.

"This is better than the 66 win. There, I've said it" © Getty Images

Wednesday, January 5th
Four walkovers and a stalemate. This has been the dullest Ashes series in living memory and still it goes on. I feel like a tourist whose long-awaited dream holiday has turned into a nightmare, trapped in a dingy hotel above a 24-hour Barmy Army karaoke bar, suffering from ear-ache and chronic disillusionment and counting the days until it is all over. It has been the triumph of the competent over the shambolic. England have done well, no doubt, but they play cricket like Oliver Cromwell might have done, if he hadn’t thought it the devil’s work. It’s been so dull that even Paul Collingwood has had enough.

And throughout, there has been the insistent drumbeat of patriotic bias, as welcome in the commentary booth as a nest of scorpions in your biscuit jar. Chief cheerleader is Ian Botham. Listening to his gratingly one-sided contributions is like being hit on the head repeatedly by a white and red inflatable hammer. When Phil Hughes half-heartedly claimed a catch today, Beefy exploded. Clearly, Hughes was a cheat. A lesser man might have reflected on some of the other examples of sharp practice in recent years, from the unorthodox use of Murray Mints in 2005 to Strauss’s “catch” at Lord’s in 2009. But not Beefy. This is the Ashes. It’s us and them. If you’re not with us, you’re against us. God Save the Queen! Pass the earplugs.

Thursday, January 6th
The BCCI do not want to use the UDRS system and have refused an invitation to go and watch it in action in Australia, reminding us that sand-based full-cranial immersion remains as popular amongst sports administrators as it does in the ostrich community. Loathe it or tolerate it, UDRS has become part of the cricket experience. Watching the game without referrals, HotSpots, traffic lights and snickometers already seems an antiquated pastime, part of cricket’s yesteryear, like the days when TV companies couldn’t afford a camera at both ends and the viewer spent 50% of their time watching to see which way the batsman’s bottom moved.

So what’s the BCCI’s problem? The suggestion that they can’t afford it is entertaining, but not particularly credible. They have said that they have serious doubts about its accuracy, but that’s not the point. Accurate or not, if everyone else is using it, so should India. We need a level playing field of inaccuracy. Besides, lots of things that aren’t completely accurate are still an integral part of the game. Take Sreesanth for example. The poor chap was beside himself in Cape Town when a couple of appeals went against him. If you won’t embrace UDRS for any other reason, Mr Srinivasan, then do it for the sake of Sree’s blood pressure.

Friday, January 7th
I read puzzling news from the Caribbean. Apparently, there is to be another Twenty20 competition in those parts, only six months after the last one. It is the kind of overkill that the ECB would be proud of. So who’s going to win this time?

“The Red Force is going to wipe everything away in front of them,” says Trinidad’s manager, Omar Khan.

“Last year we were accused of leaving coffee stains and isotonic energy drink spills in the Queen’s Park Oval canteen. So I have issued the players with rubber gloves and absorbent wipes and I can guarantee that the players will not leave the ground until all the work surfaces are spotless. As for the cricket, I expect that we will go out in the semi-finals again, but it doesn’t matter because everyone knows we are the best.”

"What do you mean with a little spit and polish I’ll be as good as new?" © Getty Images

Saturday, 1st January
Sometimes you just have to despair about the modern cricket fan. A number of Bangladeshi cricket lovers have let themselves down today. Why? Because they were desperate to get tickets for the World Cup. What is the matter with these people? Don’t they know that 50-over cricket is like, so last millennium? A great many journalists have gone to a great deal of trouble explaining why we shouldn’t like this format. Have they just been wasting ink? Get with the programme, people!

Sunday, 2nd January
The shake-up in the New Zealand cricket system seems to have brought on a mood of melancholy and despair amongst their players. Now Daniel Vettori is sulking:

“Why are we playing these extended one-day series? What’s the point?”

I understand, Daniel, really I do, but we can’t just cancel them all, just because you aren’t very good at them. I mean, did England refuse to play Test matches in the 1990s, just because we were hopeless? Chin up, old chap!

Monday, 3rd January
Ricky Ponting is due to have surgery on his little finger this week, but in a bold move, Cricket Australia have brought in some of the leading scientists in the field of biomechanics in a bid to rejuvenate Punter and extend his career for a few more years.

“Originally the plan was for Ricky to be phased out in 2011,” said Professor Hilditch, “But that was before we realised how bad Michael Clarke was at captaincy. So we’ve decided to upgrade the old guy and equip him for the future challenge of hanging around until we can find a half-decent skipper.”

In a pioneering procedure, Ricky’s pinky will be replaced with a laser pointing device with which to dazzle incoming bowlers; his right eye will be fitted with a sphere detection system, enabling him to pick up those hard-to-spot 85mph deliveries from James Anderson and he will wear special gloves that automatically secrete saliva every five seconds, thus removing the need to spit on his palms incessantly.

But perhaps the most challenging part of the procedure is the never-before-attempted brain swap. Former Australian captain Ian Chappell has agreed to temporarily exchange brains with Ricky. If all goes well, it is a win-win arrangement. Australia will get a half-decent captain and levels of grumpiness amongst Channel Nine’s commentary team will remain unaffected.

Tuesday, 4th January
So far in this Ashes series, England have led the way in all areas: runs, wickets, catches and, thanks to KP, talking nonsense in public. But Australia have finally had enough of being outdone in the gibberish stakes and so Mitchell Johnson has stepped up to the plate. Fittingly, his approach to public speaking is remarkably similar to his bowling method: he just shuffles up to the microphone and lets go.

“If an umpire thinks it’s a no-ball, he should call it straight away, rather than waiting to call it.”

Well, indeed. Who could argue with that? On the other hand, if he only thinks it might be a no-ball, but he’s not entirely sure, why shouldn’t he avail himself of the technology and get the decision right? “Better quick than accurate” might well be Johnson’s motto, but I’m not sure it’s the best way to umpire.

“... When he started on my brand of hair mousse, I knew things had gone too far, it had become personal” © Getty Images

Tuesday, 28th December
Today we were granted another guided tour of the murky ethical underworld of the modern cricketer. Apparently Sreesanth had been rude to Graeme Smith during the day’s play. The big man took exception to it and, Miandad-like, brandished his bat as though it were a weapon. This seems as good a use for it as any, since the lump of wood was not performing in its main capacity as a run-scoring device. But what can Sreesanth have said that so riled the statuesque South African?

More pertinently, what can he have said that has not already been said on a cricket field? Enter Paul Harris, in his post match seminar on the ethics of gratuitous abuse. He conjured for us a metaphysical line that no player should cross. How do you know when you’ve stepped over the line? When things get “personal”. But this only raises more questions. For a start, what does non-personal sledging sound like? How do you hurl abuse at someone in an impersonal way?

I’ve no doubt there is a line. It goes something like this: I call you names, that’s sledging; you call me names, that’s personal and unacceptable abuse. Maybe we could do with another of those Spirit of Cricket declarations, outlining just what a chap can and can’t say on a cricket field. We could even have an extra chapter explaining for how long it is acceptable to argue with an umpire. Alternatively, players could just be told to stop their silly name-calling and behave like grown-ups.

Wednesday, 29th December
Even as the dregs of his captaincy swirl around the plughole of fate, Ricky still has a lot to offer. His many years in the game have brought him great wisdom. This, for example, is how he summed up the Australian effort at the MCG.

“We didn’t do anything different than we did last week, we just haven’t played well.”

I think that would be the thing that you did differently, Ricky, the bit about not playing well. Still, you have to feel sorry for the little fella. There is a mood for change in Australian cricket, but changing captains on the basis of moods or hunches is not a good policy. Lest any Englishman forget, we still hold the record for most discarded captains in a Test series - the Gatting-Emburey-Cowdrey-Gooch-Pringle summer of 1988. And it all started because we ditched the incumbent in the absence of a viable replacement, because, well, it kind of felt like the right thing to do.

Thursday, 30th December
Champions of Chutzpah, the PCB have outdone themselves. They have set up something called an Integrity Committee. Yes, really. And who is to lead this fight for integrity? Why, Mr Ijaz Butt of course. First up for the committee is a serious investigation into the affairs of Shoaib Malik, Danish Kaneria and Kamran Akmal, three men who haven’t been charged with anything and against whom there is no evidence. Perhaps when they’ve finished grilling these players, the No-Smoke-Without-Fire Committee could ask their illustrious chairman a few questions?

Friday, 31st December
Against advice, Kevin Pietersen has been talking in public again. He has explained that it was a good thing that he brought down the previous coaching regime, because under Peter Moores there is no way England could have won the Ashes. At first glance, taking time out from a victory celebration to have a swipe at the previous coach two years after he was sacked might suggest a certain amount of bitterness on the part of KP. But that would be unfair. He goes on to offer an unflinching analysis of his own leadership skills.

“I got rid of the captaincy for the good of English cricket and we would not be here today if I had not done what I did then.”

Quite.

"That's right, the urn and the Queen have to live in the same country" © Getty Images

Wednesday December 22nd
Has anyone seen SKY’s objectivity? I could have sworn it was there this summer, or perhaps I only imagined it. Anyway, it’s been missing a long time now and I just thought it might be a good idea if they started looking for it, because frankly, without our old friend objectivity, their cricket coverage is as appetising as a bowl of sandpaper and gravel muesli.

Today I watched their review of the Ashes so far. A slightly fatuous exercise, like pausing coverage of the men’s Olympic 100-metre final at the 60-metre mark and debating which of the runners looks the most tired. Still, I’m a sucker for men in suits moaning about English cricket, indeed, that was what made up most of the BBC’s cricket coverage between 1986 and 2003, so I’d recorded the whole thing.

But I was mistaken. It wasn’t a review of the Ashes so far. It was a series of mock-team talks for the benefit of the English players and for those viewers who don’t particularly like the sport but do grasp the Botham principle of cricket, which is: England win equals good; foreigner win equals bad. Isn’t cricket about more than this? Is that all our great game boils down to?

The only saving grace was the comedy due of Bob Willis and Angus Fraser, who could be the Waldorf and Statler of SKY’s cricket coverage. Fraser still hasn’t yet quite hit his grumbling straps, but he brings a jowly downbeat shtick to the show, which beautifully compliments Willis’s impersonation of a pessimistic soothsayer. And throughout the programme, Long Bob was clearly itching to explain why England’s entire bowling strategy was a complete disaster, but he was kept on a tight leash by the presenter. Don’t worry, Bob, your time will come. It always does.

Thursday, December 23rd
Predicting what is going to happen on a Pakistan tour is a little like trying to pin down the weather during hurricane season. We know there will be one or two disasters, a fair few dramatic collapses and the possibility of a wreck or two, interspersed with interludes of astonishing calm and beauty. But which will happen next?

Well, I hope you had your “Pakistan Bingo” cards handy, because Shahid’s chaps ticked off the box marked, “unpredictable collapse” by being skittled for an imaginative 91 against Auckland, a total that the home side reeled in with seven overs to spare. Nice work, chaps, plenty of time left for some sightseeing.

Still, at the post-debacle press conference, coach Waqar wasn’t worried.

“You forget,” he joked, “I’ve seen these guys play before. 91 all out is nothing, believe me.”

But irrational optimism, along with a healthy sense of paranoia, is one of the key attributes required by any Pakistan coach and Waqar has plenty of it.

“I think they’ve learned the lesson and hopefully in the next game it will be a different ball game.”

Unfortunately for Waqar, I have checked with the relevant authorities in New Zealand and apparently it’s the same ball game, the one involving the bat, the ball and the sticks that keep falling over.

US law-enforcement workers tattoo "Rotten Egg" on Allen Stanford's back so innocent cricket boards aren't taken in again © Getty Images

Saturday, 18th December
In their ongoing attempt to ensure that as few Pakistan fans as possible can see their team play, the PCB are apparently considering holding some of their games in China. The advantage of a Chinese adventure is clear: Chinese newspapers are unlikely to be interested in investigating the off-field activities of cricketers, and even if they were, they probably wouldn’t be allowed to tell anyone about it! Nice move, Ijaz!

Sunday, 19th December
A bigger IPL requires a fresh format and those hip young administrators at the BCCI have come up with a sexy new schedule that is sure to draw in the crowds. And responding to criticism that it looked a tad complicated, they have, for the benefit of us laypeople, produced this Dummies Guide to the arrangements for IPL4:

“Each of the participatory sporting entities will be engaged in a schedule of commitments commensurate with preceding editions; to whit, a quartet of reciprocal hosting arrangements in addition to a fourfold non-reciprocal fixture agreement, with the residual participants engaged on a home and away basis, followed by a meritocratically structured eliminatory interregnum, upon the conclusion of which, the venture will be considered to have satisfactorily attained a state of termination.”

Let the party commence!

Monday, 20th December
Ricky Ponting is a doubt for the Boxing Day Test after going down with a nasty bout of shock on the second day at Perth. Michael Clarke remembers what happened.

“Yeah, well Mitch had just taken a wicket and I remember looking over at Ricky and the guy was like, open-mouthed, like he was in shock or something. He just froze in that position and we couldn’t shift him.”

The spasm of surprise was so bad that for the rest of the game the Australian captain had to be carried out onto the field like a statue and moved around on Michael Beer’s skateboard. Cricket Australia remain concerned at his condition.

“The biggest danger in a case like this,” explained Doctor Hilditch, “Is that with the mouth frozen in the open position, he is at risk of swallowing a fly and because he’s still in shock, he won’t know why he swallowed the fly. Perhaps he’ll die.”

Tuesday, 21st December
Wikileaks has revealed that there were suspicions about the egregious Allen Stanford as long ago as 2006, including rumours about bribery, money laundering and political manipulation. But though this is embarrassing for Stanford’s former chums, the ECB, they have introduced measures to ensure they are never caught out again, as shown by this leaked internal memo:

Procedure for Satisfactorily Establishing the Bona Fides of Johnny Foreigner

1. If a chap you want to do business with appears to have a lot of cash, it is jolly important to ask him first how he came by it. I am aware that this is terribly bad form, but it isn’t Henley or Glyndebourne, this is the ruthless world of modern cricket. You must shake the fellow firmly by the hand, look him squarely in the eye and ask him straight out if he is a bounder. Write down his answer on your ECB memo pad.

2. Your second and final question must be equally blunt. Brook no argument or prognostication, but incline your head quizzically, finger your tie and ask him where he went to school. You may find the following table helpful:

Eton: Sound chap
Harrow: Good egg
Winchester: Decent fellow
Radley: Treat with caution
Other: Oik and potential bounder, be wary
State school: Probably an intruder. Call security.

Sreesanth decides to teach the South Africans a lesson after they hid his hairbrush © AFP

Wednesday, 15th December
Steven Smith has been told not to worry too much about runs or wickets. His main role will be to bring the fun.

“For me it is about making sure I am having fun and making sure everyone else around me is having fun.”

Selector Hilditch, who has been receiving treatment for a nervous tic and a tendency to cackle insanely at inappropriate moments, said that Smith’s comedic abilities were essential if Australia were to regain the Ashes.

“Nothing is more vital to a successful team than forced jollity ha ha, he he! Tomorrow you will see a different team. There will be fixed grins all round, some of the players are experimenting with red noses and custard pies will be issued at the drinks break.”

Smith has apparently studied for a Masters degree in Practical Pleasantries at the Allan Lamb Centre for Irritating Personality Traits and is keen to put his skills to work, bringing the fun back to the Aussie team.

“After all, everyone else is laughing at us, so it’s about time we learned to laugh at ourselves,” said Smith, before squirting journalists with water from a plastic daisy attached to his lapel.

Thursday, 16th December
It appears that lie detector tests are to be introduced to root out corrupt players. Steve Waugh put the case for their use: “If a bloke’s got nothing to hide, why not?”

Fair enough, I’m convinced. And this opens up all kinds of possibilities. I understand that the ICC are considering going one step further and reintroducing the ducking stool, a popular device from the Middle Ages. Players suspected of naughtiness will be seated in the contraption and repeatedly ducked under water. If they drown, their innocence will be proven and their posthumous reputations restored. If they fail to drown, then clearly they must be in league with evil forces and should therefore be burned at the stake, or possibly forced to go on Shane Warne’s new chat show.

Friday, 17th December
India may be losing the Test, but coiffure-wise, they are well ahead. Jacques Kallis is undoubtedly hairier than he was before, but having come into such splendid follicular good fortune, he hasn’t yet decided what he is going to do with it, the result being a kind of floppy-fringed insouciance. And the rest of the South Africans have always been resolutely of the “short back and sides” school.

Not so the tourists. Ishant’s locks are as luxuriant as ever, but even he is eclipsed, (literally, depending on the angle of the sun) by Sreesanth’s ‘do. With his big bold hairband and big bad hair, he is a one-man celebration of the late 1970s. Indeed, with all that pouting, shouting and complaining, he is starting to resemble an Asian McEnroe, although the former Wimbledon champion would probably make a better mid-on.

Meanwhile, back home, I have seen some alarming pictures from Eden Gardens that appear to show a building site engaged in a fight with a cricket stadium with the outcome of the contest still in the balance. The BCCI are on the case, and have given every assurance that things will be ready on time, but if you are thinking of going to any of the World Cup games at that venue, it might be a good idea to pack a screwdriver and a hard hat.

Wasim Bari (trusty Wrist-Slapper of Doom not in picture) © AFP

Saturday, 11th December
What is the key to defeating corruption in cricket? Tough sentences for those caught and convicted? Full disclosure of cricketers’ financial dealings and assets? Nope. The secret, apparently, is education. So the PCB have assigned to Wasim Bari the vital task of explaining to Pakistani cricketers that it is wrong to take money in exchange for fixing the results of cricket matches.

The PCB have spared no expense in backing Bari with a hard-hitting poster campaign. Designed by Ijaz Butt’s great-grandson and utilising the latest in wax-colouration technology, the poster features a cartoon cricketer receiving a bundle of money from a suspicious looking man in a fedora. Below this startling visual representation of all that is wrong with the modern game is printed the word, “Bad” in bold capitals.

And Mr Bari has an uncompromising message for the cricketers of Pakistan:

“It has never been acceptable for players to get involved in fixing, apart from when it was, but it certainly isn’t anymore, not even if you don’t get caught.”

Sunday, 12th December
Following the revelation that Nathan Hauritz has sold some of his cricket memorabilia in a fit of pique, Cricket Australia have retaliated by putting Hauritz up for sale on eBay, along with an assortment of discarded spinners including a Krezja, a Doherty, a Casson and a McGain.

The full listing describes the job lot of offspinners, left-armers and leggies as:

“Unwanted selections, barely used, some slight wear and tear around the edges. Would make lovely gift for struggling village cricket team. Could also make eye-catching garden ornaments or theatrical dummies for West End. Baggy green caps and lingering feeling of resentment included.”

Monday, 13th December
Michael Beer isn’t the only new face in the Australian squad. Johnson Mitchell is an exciting prospect: a dashing young fast bowler known for his immaculate dental hygiene and uncanny ability to land at least three balls an over on the cut strip. The young lad apparently celebrated his call-up by getting a tattoo of a pitch drawn on his left forearm, featuring helpful arrows indicating where to bowl.

One or two irresponsible journalists have suggested that Johnson Mitchell bears an uncanny resemblance to Aussie reject and all-round no-hoper Mitchell Johnson, an accusation that Andrew Hilditch, wearing a foil hat, was quick to refute.

“Mitchell Johnson is a failed pie-chucker who simply cannot be relied upon in a crucial Ashes battle; he is a luxury we can’t afford. Johnson Mitchell, on the other hand, is a deadly fast bowler who will cause the English batsmen sleepless nights, particularly since we had that radar device fitted to his cranium.”

Tuesday, 14th December
The news that the 96-year-old politician and part-time spinner Sanath Jayasuriya has been selected for Sri Lanka’s provisional World Cup squad has drawn a swift response from the ICC’s Dignity Department.

“Mr Jayasuriya hasn’t reached double figures since 2007 and this selection is a violation of his human rights, specifically, his right not to be forced to embarrass himself in public We all remember watching Mike Gatting lumbering out to bat in 1993 and surely no one wants to see a repeat of those horrific scenes.”

However, a delighted Jayasuriya has stated that he hopes to be in contention for the 2015 tournament and, dodgy hip permitting, the 2019 and 2023 editions as well.

“You’re only as young as you feel,” quipped the elderly bat-swisher, “And I don’t feel a day over 67.”

"My first move as India captain will be to stop the Indian people going so nuts about this clown here" © AFP

Wednesday, 8th December
I’m not convinced by this wheeze of the IPL’s to swap all the players around. For one thing, certain players have become synonymous with their team. Can you imagine the Kings XI without Sreesanth? Or Chennai without Napoleon Einstein? Worse still, there is the danger that Sourav Ganguly might not be playing for a franchise in IPL4, which would be unforgivable and quite possibly illegal. I can understand why Kolkata might want to get rid of all of their players, but not Sourav, surely.

I do, however, see the merit in giving this idea a try in international cricket. Every January, the ICC could hold a ceremony at which all Test players have to put their passports into The Passport Randomising Machine. By mixing things up, IPL-style, the tired old format will be rejuvenated at a stroke. Who knows what we could end up with? Harbhajan playing for Australia? Ricky Ponting the captain of India? South Africans playing for South Africa?

Thursday, 9th December
The West Indian tour of Sri Lanka has ended a little earlier than planned.

“We can’t control the weather,” admitted Mr Ernest Hilaire, whilst standing in a puddle right up to his middle, holding a Viv Richards umbrella. It wasn’t for the want of trying. The WICB had issued legal proceedings against the Almighty on the grounds that the incessant Sri Lankan downpour constituted a breach of contract, as set out in the book of Genesis.

However, despite a personal intervention from Mr Hilaire, who flew up in his helicopter to address the weather via a loud hailer, the clouds continued to permit rain to fall and an irresponsible lightning strike singed his official executive tie. Having thus failed to successfully organise the meteorological conditions, the WICB must now concentrate on failing to organise West Indian cricket instead.

Friday, 10th December
Selecting a spinner is like choosing a pair of shoes. But more specifically, it is like choosing a pair of shoes for a middle-aged man. A spinner should be picked, not because he is fashionable, but for his potential to endure a regular pounding on flat surfaces without falling apart. A spinner must be worn in over a period of time, he must be given time to mould himself to the shape that the team needs and, if he starts to sag a little, he shouldn’t be thrown out, but repaired. *

Andrew Hilditch, however, is the Imelda Marcos of selectors. Sometimes even the rumour of a shiny new spinner is enough to get him reaching for the telephone. Mr Doherty is the latest hot new item to end up in the bag for the charity shop and who knows how long Steven Smith or Michael Beer will last? Mr Hilditch would be best served by sticking to a sturdy brand, like the Hauritz. It may not turn heads (or indeed cricket balls) but it won’t let you down. Much.

* My thanks to Hogwash Publications for allowing me to reproduce this theory from John Buchanan’s bestseller, “Unlikely Analogies for Cricket Coaches Volume One”. Readers interested in pursuing this metaphor further may wish to read the same author’s idea that coaching cricketers is very much like repairing shoes, as outlined in the seminal, “Let’s Talk Cobblers: The Buchanan Method”.

The only way to investigate such mysterious occurences is to trick them into occurring and then secretly videotape them © Cricinfo Ltd

Saturday, 4th December
It can’t be easy to be a fan of the Royals, the Kings XI or the Kochi Calamaties. Should you bin your Ramesh Powar tea cosy, unstitch your embroidered Graeme Smith underpants and try to learn the theme tune of the Super Kings? Or do you put your fingers in your ears when the IPL news is on and look forward to the player auction (whenever it may be) as though nothing has happened?

We don’t yet know, for example, whether Rajasthan will be involved in IPL4, but they are being allowed to take part in the auction. This is rather like letting your daughter choose some new goodies from the toy shop but warning her that she might not be allowed to play with them when she gets home. At the time of writing, we don’t know how many teams will be taking part, what the format will be or who will be playing for whom. By the time the IPL gets a grip, we may no longer care.

Sunday, 5th December
Congratulations to Darren Sammy and his chaps. Not losing is a significant step forward for Caribbean cricket and not losing in Sri Lanka is almost as praiseworthy an achievement as not losing in India. And though there was more than a hint of dampness around, the West Indians were not, unlike our favourite cousins from the Antipodes, praying for it. The rain merely spoilt the series, it didn’t decide it.

But it is heartening to see that complaining about the weather is just as popular in Sri Lanka as it is England. Speaking for elderly women at bus stops everywhere, Kumar Sangakkara complained that, “The weather’s all topsy turvy these days”. He wants the authorities to investigate rainfall patterns, but to be honest, I’m not sure the ICC will prove any more adept at meteorology than it is at cricket administration.

Monday, 6th December
Australia’s inability to take a wicket is becoming baffling. They’ve tried everything: wide balls, full-tosses, half-volleys, balls that don’t spin, non-swinging balls, slow balls: nothing has worked. Some are suggesting Australia are losing because they are too nice and have forgotten how to be snarly and growly. Cricket is a manly game, for men with hairy chests and incidents such as Ricky’s complaints about the sledging on the first day are a namby-pamby embarrassment.

But, aside from being an interesting insight into the peculiarities of the Australian psyche, this is a misrepresentation of the facts. Ricky was not complaining about the unpleasantness of the sledging, but the feebleness of it. The legacy of the Chuckle brothers and of Dennis, Rod and Jeff was being insulted by the dainty name-calling and wishy-washy chat of Prior, Anderson and baby Finn. Michael Vaughan, on Test Match Special, described it as “chirping”. Chirping is a high-pitched sing-song noise made by delicate little creatures that can become intensely irritating. Sounds about right.

Tuesday, 7th December
The Dilscoop is a circus shot that cannot fail to entertain. If it comes off, it’s an “oooh look at that” moment, like a daring highwire somersault. If it fails, it is funnier than a collapsible three-wheeled-van packed full of clowns. Today’s effort from Brendon, The Incredible Tattooed Man, was of the latter variety. Bravely, he went down on one knee, wafted his bat up and down like he was trying to fan a small fire, missed the ball entirely and finally toppled over into the dirt. It was quite possibly my favourite Dilfail of 2010.

"I'm warning you, if you don't use my haircare tips you're destined to end up getting rugs like Bollinger" © Getty Images

Saturday, 27th November
Kochi are in. Rajasthan were out but they might be in again. That said, Kochi might still be out. The head of the BCCI said he would need some time to study the latest developments. I don’t blame him. I’ve put some of my brainiest brain cells onto the job and I still can’t make any sense of the thing. Then again, business talk always numbs my neurons. Share options, equity, consortium… excuse me, did I nod off there? Most of these IPL stories could be repackaged as lullabies.

Besides, I much preferred the old IPL, the one where all the dodgy stuff was done behind the curtains. You knew it probably stank, but they at least had the decency to keep the mess out of sight. No one wants to go and watch a play in which the director spends the first hour explaining why the set is a bit rickety and the plot is full of holes. All this openness and probity is a big yawn. Let’s get back to what it’s all about: silly hype, silly money and silly cricket. With fireworks. And blimps.

Sunday, 28th November
“Owww!”

What on earth could that be at three o clock in the morning? A night prowler falling foul of a well-placed bear trap? Mitchell Johnson striving for extra accuracy and catching the square-leg umpire on the ankle?

Nope, it is the sound that David Gower makes when Nasser Hussain drives a chair leg into his toe. I’ve every sympathy for DG. No one wants to be woken up suddenly like that, especially not when they’re at work. Of course it could be that the chair thing was just a fabrication, to cover up the true reason for Gower’s existential yowl: the realisation that he might have to watch Alastair Cook bat for three days.

Monday, 29th November
A tricky time of year for those of us obliged to take part in Christmas festivities has just been made a whole lot easier. Got a cricket-loving adolescent in the family? Then they’ll love the new James Anderson book, Sledging for Beginners. Page after page of barely audible insinuations, surefire pouting tips and lower-lip workouts. Aimed at 10-year-olds, or possibly eight-year-olds with attitude, it is set to be a bestseller.

As a little taste of what the reader can expect, stump microphones in Brisbane picked up this exchange during Australia’s sleepy second innings:

Anderson: “Mumble mumble mumble.”
Batsman: “I’m sorry could you say that again?”
Anderson: “Oh you heard!”
Batsman: “Actually, no I didn’t.”
Anderson: “Yeah right, mumble, mumble.”
Batsman: “I’m sorry, I really have no idea what you’re saying…”

Ouch! Vicious stuff, I’m sure you’ll agree.

Tuesday, 30th November
You might think that getting selected for the Pakistan team is a straightforward affair. A chap only needs to remain out of jail and in possession of a passport and a bat to get a go. But it isn’t as easy as all that. You still need some kind of hook, some catchy selling point. And, if you’re Kamran Akmal, you need a damn good one if you’re going to grab that 17th chance to prove yourself.

So Akmal fans will be pleased to hear that the toothy one has spotted an opportunity.

“Every Pakistan team needs a scapegoat, but at the moment we don’t really have one. So I’ve been working hard on certain areas of my game, like taking the blame, copping the flak and being the fall guy. If I get another chance, I believe I’ve got many years of being called names at the top level left in me.”

An appropriate though delayed reaction from Mike Hussey after he's told Australia are indeed playing England © Getty Images

Wednesday, 24th November
It’s the Ashes! Finally, the big day had dawned and SKY were beside themselves with excitement. Their pre-game package appeared to have been put together by a producer who’d overdosed on sugary sweets and espresso. Rushed interviews, curtailed opinions, frantic ad breaks, an orchestral crescendo, more ads, a chat with Graeme Swann, a few bars of thumping music, a fast-forward two minute review of the 1986-87 series, another advert and oh my god it’s the Ashes! The Ashes!

The whirlwind of hype reached a shrieking frenzy at around 23:45 GMT with an uptight Nasser and a rudely tanned Sir Beefy breathlessly chanting, “The pressure’s on Australia, never write off the Aussies, the pressure’s on Australia, never write off the Aussies…” whilst both looking as though they really badly needed to go pee. And when Strauss was out in the first over, the coverage moved into the higher registers where only bats, dolphins and highly sensitive dogs could enjoy it.

And then it got a bit dull. Admittedly, Test cricket isn’t designed for late-night television where constant stimulation is necessary to keep your audience from slipping into unconsciousness. But there’s another problem. Let’s be honest, this is a mid-ranking tiff between two unremarkable teams squabbling for the right to be considered not quite as good as Sri Lanka. By 00:20, my snacks depleted, I had begun to scratch a Trott-style line in my sofa. By 00:35 I was taking an interest in the shopping channel. By 00:45 I was asleep. It’s the Ashes! Wake me up when it’s over.

Thursday, 25th November
You’ve got to hand it to Mr Modi and I’m not just talking about legal notices. The great man has been speaking to his people via Modivision, his personal Youtube channel.

"Of course we made some mistakes, but if we hadn't made some mistakes, I wouldn't have corrected them and made it better and that is why we are the world's hottest league".

Nice work, Mr M. A lesser man admitting to his mistakes might suggest as a defence that yes, he did a few things wrong, but that he’s learnt his lesson. But that is not the Modi way. Here the blessed Lalit is suggesting that without his mistakes, the IPL wouldn’t be as good as it is and so really, he should be thanked for instituting those vital mistakes and can he have his job back please? I’m not sure if he has a lawyer, but then again, I’m not sure that he needs one.

Saturday, 27th November
Ajantha Mendis is a bowling machine set to “random”. Trying to pick him must be like trying to work out what kind of liquorice allsort will be next out of the packet. A googly without the turn. A kind of offbreak. A carrom ball. One that sort of hangs there. A range of loopy ones that look like they might break left or right but don’t. A straight fast one. A curvy straight fast one. A slightly slower straight one.

But in the end, liquorice allsorts all taste like, well, liquorice. You can have enough liquorice is what I’m saying. Watching him bowl is exhausting to watch, faintly hypnotic, but also a little infuriating. He’s like a magician performing the same trick over and over again. “Ta-da!” says Ajantha as he pulls yet another new breed of rabbit out of his top hat to polite but dwindling applause. “Look at this one though,” he protests, “It’s got slightly longer ears than the others!”

It was evident Bhajji had bowled for far too long with no luck when he threw a tantrum after mistaking the popping crease for a zebra-crossing © Getty Images

Tuesday, 16th November
IPL fans will be pleased to hear that preparations for the next installment of the world’s favourite Indian cricket league have been unaffected, despite all of the litigious shenanigans of recent weeks. There have though been one or two changes to the format. IPL 4 will consist of an initial round-robin stage of legal actions, counter suits and disciplinary hearings, at the end of which the last franchise to be disbanded will claim the title. In the event of two franchises being banned at the same time, the one with the fewest of Lalit Modi’s relatives on its board will be declared the winner.

Wednesday, 17th November
Giles Clarke’s ongoing campaign to ensure that no one can see the England team play cricket today suffered a setback. It emerged that ITV will be showing highlights of the Ashes for free. Yes, you heard it right, for free. It’s a scandal. Fortunately, the highlights will be on the middle of the night and viewers will have to apply to the ECB for a special exemption certificate if they want to partake in this act of wanton selfishness. And of course, it’s on ITV, which is itself something of a deterrent.

The big question is who will be in the studio? Normally, the advantage of employing ex-internationals is that they can offer us valuable insights. But this is the Ashes. The only thing that the likes of Alec Stewart and Graeme Hick can tell us about playing against Australia is how to lose in the shortest possible time. They probably won’t even show up until the last Test, when, with the pressure off and expectations suitably low, the men from the nineties will turn in a stirring, but ultimately futile display of punditry.

Thursday, 18th November
The Ashes offers many opportunities for spin-off publications and I see no reason not to cash in. I am currently working on my own book, entitled “Deconstructing the Soundbite: Semantics in the Post Modern Sporting and Media Milieu. For Dummies”. There is no shortage of material. Take this from Troy Cooley:

“Mitch brings a nice set of skills to our team and we accept that with his action, he’s not going to get 100 balls in the right area at the right time.”

What does this tell us? Firstly it reveals the enormous admiration Cooley has for the tattooed slinger. He looks upon Mitch as a figure of prodigious strength and power, reminiscent of the mythical giant Briareus, capable of bowling 100 balls simultaneously. But at the same time he is preparing us for the possibility that not every one of Mitch’s 100 arms will be functioning with optimum accuracy and that low flying aircraft in the Brisbane area should take particular care next week.

Friday, 19th November
Harbhajan isn’t happy, a situation that is not good for India, for Indian cricket or for the furniture in Bhajji’s apartment. According to India’s premier allrounder, most of the pitches in that part of the world are like roads. Coincidentally, many Indian roads are like five-day old pitches. Perhaps some sort of exchange programme between groundsmen and road maintenance engineers might be the answer?

Sreesanth: Portrait of a Fruitcake as a Man of Restraint © Getty Images

Saturday, 13th November
Diligently reading through the pre-Ashes news each morning is like taking a regular dose of cod liver oil. It’s hard to swallow, it leaves a nasty taste in your mouth, and it has no discernible benefits. I know players have certain media obligations, but every now and then couldn’t they just say “No comment” rather than straining for soundbites? Today we heard from the England captain, who appears to have fallen out with the English language and is treating it most roughly:

“The last thing we can do is get complacent and pat ourselves on the back, because we are ramping up our preparations.”

Now admittedly I didn’t go to Radley, but even an uneducated oaf like what I am can spot that this is devoid of meaning, a reheated soup of unrelated phrases and gristly jargon. Ramping? It sounds like something you might do to male sheep. Or possibly an extreme outdoor sport. But I have no idea what it has to do with preparing for a game of cricket, unless the plan is for Mr Strauss and chums to pile into a truck and drive as fast as they can towards a sharp incline. In which case, carry on chaps.

Sunday 14th November
Tendulkar isn’t bad with a bat, and one or two of the others know which end to hold, but frankly there’s only one Indian batsman we want to watch these days. Mr Harbhajan Singh is an unstoppable force. He combines the wide-eyed audacity of a tailender who keeps getting lucky with the swagger of an undefeated boxer. No matter how fast or wily the bowling, he just keeps swinging until your eyebrows can rise no further and you have no words left to express your surprise.

Monday, 15th November
You might think that naming an enormous squad 10 days before the first Test is a tad premature and even suggestive of an element of indecision on the part of Cricket Australia. But you’d be wrong. By out-selecting Geoff Miller’s panel by 17 names to 16, Chappell and Co have secured an important early edge. With 6% more players to choose from, Australia are already ahead of the game. But there’s more to it than that. This isn’t just a selection process. It’s a psychological experiment.

All those extra spinners and middle-order batsmen are there for a reason: to put the wind up Messrs Hussey, North and Hauritz. Will it work? Ricky thinks so. He says that nerves bring out the best in his players. But if that’s so, why stop there? If being nervous makes them better players, think how much greater they would be if they were absolutely terrified. What about suspending Nathan Hauritz above a tank of tarantulas for 10 days or tampering with the brakes on Michael Hussey’s car? It’s the new frontier in sports motivation: better performance through blind panic.

Tuesday, 16th November
Now I know that Sreesanth isn’t everyone’s favourite petulant fast-medium no-ball merchant. But even Sreephobes could not deny that the man makes for great television. By the time I tuned in to the second Test in Hyderabad, McCullum already had his double-century and everyone was losing interest. Everyone, that is, apart from Sree. In he ran, tearing to the crease like a schoolkid pumped up on sugary sweets doing a Dennis Lillee impersonation. Thanks to this loose-limbed, face-pulling, big-haired, permanently chattering disco diva, I carried on watching a game that was already over. For the sake of Test cricket, we need more Sreesanths.

Customer service professionals the world over, beware, Bhajji's got a bat and we're afraid he's going to use it © AFP

Tuesday, 9th November
Historic news: the ICC have eradicated corruption! Things were looking dicey for a while there, but the chaps in Dubai have pretty much cleared the whole thing up thanks to a non-binding voluntary declaration. The breakthrough was confirmed by a smiling Haroon Lorgat as he descended the steps of his plane waving a sheet of A4. “I have in my hand a piece of paper,” he announced, promising “No fixing in our time!”

The news sparked scenes of global jubilation and long queues of match-fixers anxious to hand themselves in began to form at police stations around the world. One illegal bookie, who did not wish to be named, admitted that it would be all but impossible for him to operate in future, now that the ICC had brought out their declaration, so he was chucking it all in and starting a llama farm in the Andes.

Wednesday, 10th November
Another day, another Ashes news item. Well, I say “news” but I’m using that word in its loosest possible sense. Like lumbering, exhausted boxers in the 12th round, the two sides in the pre-Ashes trash-talk title bout are punching on empty, flailing about with weary aspersions and jaded insinuations in the vague hope of hitting the target.

Today it was Ricky “The Australian Captain” Ponting who lashed out with a media upper-cut. He alleged that England will not be able to adapt to the green and bouncy Gabba wicket. Pow! His comment is even more devastating to the English psyche when you look at their squad and realise that apart from Broad, Finn and Tremlett, it is utterly devoid of tall seam bowlers who might exploit such conditions.

Thursday, 11th November
Brave whilstleblower/cynical attention-seeker/wicketkeeper Zulqarnain Haider has suggested tapping the telephones of cricketers. I’m not so sure. The idea has already been trialled, with mixed results, as this extract from one of the transcripts reveals:

Player X: Greetings, telephone person, my name is Bhaji and I wish to –
Helpline: For complaints, press 1. For technical support press 2 –
Player X: Bloody automated nonsense! There, I pressed 2. Now what?
Helpline: Thank you. If you have a problem with your wrist position, say “wrist”. If you are having trouble with your doosra, say “doosra”. If –
Player X: Doosra!
Helpline: Thank you. You said, “moose”. If this is correct, say “yes” after the tone.
Player X: Moose? I haven’t got a moose!
Helpline: If your moose is unwell, press 1. If your moose is depressed, press 2. If you have lost your moose, press 3.
Player X: Useless piece of junk! I am going to come down there and give you all a damn good thrashing or my name isn’t –
Operator: Hello, I am Ravi, how can I help you?
Player X: At last. I’ve mislaid my doosra.
Operator: That is bad news, sir. If you give me all the details, we will have your doosra back faster than a tracer bullet.
Player X: What are you talking about, tracer bullet? And why are you shouting?
Operator: I am not shouting, sir. I am projecting my voice for the sake of my customer. Don’t worry, I’m sure we can knock your problem into row Z.
Player X: It’s very simple, peasant phone-operating person. I had my doosra. I lost it. Now I want to know what you are going to do about it.
Operator: Have you tried being taller?
Player X: What?
Operator: A lot of our spin bowling clients find that being over six feet tall is a real advantage.
Player X: Are you an imbecile?
Operator: No, I am fully on board with your issue sir. Now let’s get ready to rock! Putting you on hold.
Player X: Wait –

We hear a jazz version of “Eye of the Tiger” by Survivor

Player X: Right, that’s it! I am going to slap you to within an inch of your existence, you worthless piece of telecommunication equipment! Take that! And that! And that also! Ah, not so smug now, are you! Wait till I pull your socket out of the wall! Then we’ll see who -

Too late Mickey Arthur realised as his molars cracked that the aliens had tampered with his toffee © Getty Images

Wednesday, 3rd November
The head of some company or other responsible for producing a kind of digital whatchamacallit today tried to reassure reluctant Indian cricketers that there is nothing to be scared of, that everything is perfectly safe.

“We need to spend time with umpires and players, captains of teams, so that we can open up the entire Pandora’s box of the technology…”

I’m not sure this is a great sales pitch. Pandora’s box, as we know, was a container reputed to contain all the plagues, evils and diseases of the world, which, once released, could never be returned. No wonder Sachin wants nothing to do with it.

Thursday, 4th November
According to our chums with the laptops and laminated passes, Marcus North is either clinging on to his Test spot by his fingernails or about to be made captain, or possibly both. Furthermore the Australian dressing room is riven with infighting and yet, at the same time, the epitome of loving harmony; whilst Michael Clarke, depending on which paper you read, is a commanding leader of great sagacity and authority or an incompetent fool who can barely be trusted to arrange his knife and fork, let alone a 5-4 field.

It’s all rather baffling for the humble cricket fan, but fortunately help is at hand. The Department of Frivolous Algebra at the University of Fake Science have today explained this strange phenomenon with a useful formula:

Hype = X (Y*Z)

in which X is an event of no significance*, Y is a variable representing the number of journalists who have blagged a holiday to Australia, and Z represents the amount of time said journalists have on their hands once they get there.

In this case it appears that the operation of the Hype Equation is resulting in the inflation of a mid-ranking struggle between an ordinary yet inconsistent team and their inconsistent yet ordinary opponents into the greatest sporting clash since Ali versus Foreman. Meanwhile numbers 1 and 2 in the Test rankings are limbering up for a three-match series in December. Hype anyone? Apparently not.

Friday, 5th November
It seems that South Africans are not yet fully conversant with one of the great literary genres. A cricket autobiography is supposed to be a tiresome collection of dressing-room pranks interspersed with golfing stories, lists of scores and excuses. It is designed to be a birthday present, a draught excluder, a coffee table filler, or if it is large enough, a useful hurling implement with which to stun a charging rhinoceros. It is not, however, intended to be in any way interesting or readable.

Yet last week Herschelle Gibbs released his unputdownable tale of sex, cliques and rock and roll. And now we have a taster of former coach Mickey “Micky” Arthur’s contribution to sporting literature, a manuscript so dangerous that it has already provoked the threat of legal action from the PCB. The passage of the book that has stimulated Ijaz Butt’s sue-reflex relates to a one-day game back in 2007, a game Pakistan lost. As we all now know, match-fixing, spot-fixing or associated general naughtiness is the only possible explanation for a Pakistan defeat:

“How else do you explain a batting side needing only 40 runs with seven wickets in hand and still losing?”

How else indeed, Mickey. Of course it could just have been that Pakistan didn’t play very well. But, hey, who wants to pay R154 to read about that?

* Such as, for example, the news that some guy in a hotel bar reckons he heard some bloke say that he had it on good authority from his uncle’s first wife that a geezer who’d been to school with Ricky Ponting’s cousin met a woman who might have been Greg Chappell’s cleaner, who swore blind that she heard Marcus North or someone who looks very much like him say that he’d like to be Australian captain.

England: they’re in the running, you know © Getty Images

Saturday, 30th October
The Ashes build-up is a carnival of maddening irrelevance; a gigantic sack of junk mail pushed, one envelope at a time, into the letterbox of your consciousness, a carousel of pointlessness upon which the same players go round and round and round, being prompted to say the same things over and over again until we no longer feel like rational human beings, and start to get the strange urge to bludgeon Stuart Broad to death with an enormous haddock. Or perhaps that’s just me.

Anyway, today’s brain fluff came courtesy of Doug Bollinger, who, under pressure to entertain us with his thoughts, came up with the revelation that he might not swear at Kevin Pietersen. He couldn’t rule out swearing at the other English batsmen, or indeed their wives, girlfriends or extended families, but he is not going to swear at KP. Indeed, he hopes to “put him off his game by not saying anything”.

I have my doubts about this strategy. I’m not sure that KP will necessarily go to pieces just because a bowler doesn’t swear at him. In my experience, having people not swear at you is on the whole to be preferred. But Dougie’s plan might have a wider application. I suspect that our quality of life would be greatly improved if, for the next three weeks, everyone concerned with English or Australian cricket adhered rigidly to a “not saying anything” policy.

Sunday, 31st October
Fortunately, in between the speculation about games that haven’t happened yet, there is some real cricket going on. I don’t think I’ve seen too many better demolitions than the one Abdul Razzaq visited on South Africa today. Once again Pakistan got themselves into a tangle, once again it was left to Abdul to extricate his team, and once again he pulled it off, lashing the ball to all parts with the lusty vigour of a farmer taking a scythe to a field of wheat. If he isn’t in the IPL, I won’t be watching.

Monday, 1st November
The latest news from camp England - that Graeme Swann had bruised his thumb whilst trying to pick his nose - sparked pandemonium amongst the gentlemen of the press. With only three weeks to go before the start of that thing we are not going to mention, did this injury mean the team might as well come home right now? Would it traumatise his team-mates? Would Her Majesty react badly to the news and announce her abdication? Did it have any implications for global warming? How many words can we get out of this? What does his cat think…

Tuesday, 2nd November
Herschelle Gibbs’ new autobiography has not gone down well in some quarters. For a start, To The Point is possibly the laziest cricket-related pun ever to feature on the front cover of a soon-to-be-former-sportsman’s collection of anecdotes. Worse than that, Herschelle has used this autobiographical tin opener of truth to crank open a container of non-athropodic invertebrates. He has alleged that there was a “clique” in the South African team. It appears that this clique was made up of “reliable” players who would deliberately attempt to intimidate their more talented colleagues by turning up on time, trying very hard and not getting out in a ridiculous fashion in the first over. And after just 361 internationals, this sinister cabal finally succeeded in removing a promising 36-year-old youngster from the national team on the flimsy grounds that he had only scored 12 or so runs in the preceding five years.

“... And Trotty’s got his car painted. It only took four years too” © Getty Images

Saturday, 23rd October
Flicking wearily through the “Ashes Hype” pull-out section of my daily newspaper, I came across an interesting quote from Professor DK Lillee, of the Perth Institute for Biological Sciences, who has claimed that Nathan Hauritz is “still evolving”. He is confident that by November 25th, Hauritz will have grown an extra thick forefinger (to help him spin the ball) a bat-like echo location system (to help him locate a good length) and the roar of a lion (to deter vultures and Steven Smith).

Sunday 24th October
As a keen conservationist I was delighted upon tuning in to today’s game from the Nehru Stadium to find that the ground authorities had, by clever use of tarpaulins, arranged a network of lakes, ponds and puddles, clearly designed to encourage the endangered Goan Crested Newt. I spent many happy minutes watching live footage of the water features and listening to the distinctive sounds of the locale, such as the haunting mating call of the wild vuvuzela and the distant crash of a collapsing sightscreen.

Monday, 25th October
There are only 30 press conferences to go until the start of the Ashes and on today’s agenda was Andy Flower, who told a packed assembly of desperate hacks that he expected great things from Kevin Pietersen this winter. In response to a shouted question to “say something interesting that we can use” the England coach followed up his opening remarks by revealing that Alastair Cook had recently had to renew his car tax and that Graeme Swann had had two sausages for breakfast.

He also had to apologise for KP’s absence. The man himself had a prior commitment launching a range of exciting products designed to penetrate new markets as yet untouched by the magic of KP. This Christmas, consumers around the world can look forward to the KP yak-pacifier, the KP luau firelighters, the KP ice-fishing rod and the KP llama poop-scooper. For Ashes couch potatoes, there will also be a new KP beer (shiny can, exciting bouquet, goes flat after a while) and a KP corkscrew, specially designed to make things easy for left-handers.

Meanwhile the UN has expressed concerns that prolonged exposure to pointless Ashes speculation may have negative side effects. Governments around the globe are reporting a dramatic increase in cricket-related ennui, and in China today, several people were arrested trying to deface a 20-foot high poster of Jimmy Anderson. Psychiatrists are also warning of the dangers of an epidemic of post-Brisbane depression when viewers realise that neither of the teams involved is particularly good.

Tuesday, 26th October
The IPL continues to break new ground, even in the realm of boardroom feuds. In an attempt to outdo the internal squabbles at Liverpool FC, the Kochi franchise has become the first sporting club to fall out with itself without ever having put a team onto the field. Nevertheless they are hopeful of being ready in time for the IPL’s Contraction Season 2011 and have already launched their logo. The emblem of the Kochi Calamaties features a pair of bickering elephants rampant, holding court papers in their trunks and carrying enormous sacks of golden coins on their backs.

“Yes, Cosmo want me to be on the cover of their ‘Boys You Could Have Taken Home to Mother But Not Anymore’ issue” © AP

Tuesday, 12th October
We all enjoy watching top-class administrators strut their stuff. Whether it’s live auditing from Dubai or accounts reconciliation at Lord’s, millions of us around the world are avid followers of the bureaucratic superstars of the modern era. But many people worry. Are there enough kids willing to try their hand at pen-pushing? Where are the administrative heroes of tomorrow going to come from?

Well, worry no more, because the Global Cricket Academy, unveiled in Dubai today, will not just be for players or umpires. It will become, in the words of the ICC’s President, “the centre of excellence for cricket’s best and brightest administrators”. This is exciting news and here at the Long Handle we have been fortunate enough to have a glimpse of the curriculum that awaits the chosen form-filling few.

It is a challenging course. Students must first master the “Post-Prandial Committee Meeting Endurance Simulator”, in which they learn how to avoid nodding off in the boardroom when Haroon Lorgat is talking. They will also face a test in which they are given 20 minutes to fill a blank calendar with as many fixtures as they can, and to help them keep on top of corruption, the pen-pushing hopefuls will be taught how to pop down to a newsagent to buy the News of the World.

Wednesday 13th October
After a not entirely successful trip to India and an unfortunate slide to a point some way south of England in the ICC Test rankings (which yesterday prompted the Australian government to declare a national state of emergency) Ricky Ponting has been defending his star No. 4 batsman against recent criticisms.

“Ah look, I don’t buy the argument that he’s not what he used to be. Sure, Pup’s nearly 30, but if you ask me, he’s as pretty as ever. You don’t become an ugly bloke overnight, unless you get your hair done like Doug. I’ve got every confidence that come the Ashes, he’ll be back taking his shirt off in a tasteful way for one of the better women’s magazines.”

Thursday 14th October
At long last, someone is to be held to account for the monstrosity that is the mid-over advertisement. Admittedly it is poor old Lalit Modi, who appears to be in the frame for most of the world’s ills, including, as I understand it, the hole in the ozone layer, the existence of reality television and the assassination of JFK. And technically he is not being charged for foisting this abomination on the cricket viewer, rather for the way that the advertising was sold. Still, it’s a start.

Next we need to go after the people who introduced the rotating sight screen that doubles as an advertising hoarding and mysteriously seizes up at inopportune moments. Let’s bring to justice the man who first thought a blimp would be an exciting addition to the cricket experience. And Interpol must surely by now be on the trail of Shane Warne for aiding and abetting some of the worst adverts in the, admittedly fairly undistinguished, history of the scalp-refurnishing industry.

Friday 15th October
The news that James Anderson has cracked a rib at England’s dangerous training camp for boys is unfortunate. Team England had previously earned some criticism for letting their chaps play football, so they decided to steer away from such risky activities for their end-of-season jaunt, opting instead to have their more important players punch each other in the stomach for an hour or two. The good news is that Jimmy should be fit in time to take on Graeme Swann in the morale boosting pre-Ashes sword-swallowing and scorpion-juggling competitions.

Now Harbhajan Singh's kit to come with this logo © Getty Images

Monday, 27th September
The ICC Health and Safety Risk Assessment into the forthcoming series in India has been completed and has made the following recommendations:

1. To avoid any verbal misadventures, all communication on the field of play must be in ancient Greek.
2. In addition, the slip cordon must stand an extra 20 metres back, so as to remain out of the batsman’s earshot at all times.
3. Sledging will be permitted but only if the sledger has sought the permission of the sledgee and submitted the appropriate form (Sledge.1a.) to the match referee’s office prior to the day’s play.
4. A ten-metre exclusion zone will be established around Harbhajan Singh, who will at all times be required to wear black and yellow tape marked: “Danger: Approach with Caution!”
5. Enormous foam shoulder pads will be issued to all bowlers and batsmen, thereby taking the tension and some of the bruising out of those unfortunate mid-pitch collisions.

With these sensible precautions in place, the safety and well-being of all participants should be ensured. Play nicely chaps, and stay safe!

Tuesday, 28th September
Michael Clarke has advised all players in their mid-to-late 20s with multiple advertising deals and a good chance of becoming Test captain in the next year or so to remain loyal to their country rather than favouring the IPL. I’m with you there, MC. I’ve made exactly the same choice; it’s country every time. Admittedly, the IPL has not yet expressed an interest in my services, but it’s the principle that counts.

Wednesday, 29th September
Scotland’s ingenious method of progressing to the final of the ICC Intercontinental Thingy by refusing to tour Zimbabwe (on the grounds that it’s quite hot and they might lose) suggests possibilities for England ahead of the Ashes. All that is needed is for the UK government to produce a similarly bleak assessment of conditions in Australia. There’s plenty to work with: enormous spiders in the toilet, deadly snakes in your sock drawer and seas stuffed full of unnecessarily vigorous marine creatures.

Then there is the hostile local culture to consider, namely the well-documented breakdown of normal standards of civilised behaviour within the average Australian stadium. Sending Ian Bell into that environment could have serious implications for his well-being. A quick recommendation from the Foreign Office advising against all travel to Australia; the series will be forfeit and England retain the Ashes. Hurrah!

Thursday, 30th September
Despite the fact that the “Reports on the Structure of County Cricket” annexe of the British Library already covers seven acres and has its own bus service, the ECB has decided that what we really need right now is a report on the structure of county cricket. Onlookers, perhaps unschooled in the ways of the ECB, might think this a prelude to a drastic reduction in the Friends Provident Twenty20 Endurance Contest that caused most of July’s cricket time to disappear into a black hole of pointlessness.

However, in my experience, the sane cricket enthusiast should approach these things in the same spirit with which one might tune in to a hastily arranged press conference by the Chairman of the PCB*. Expect the unexpected. It is entirely possible that the ECB will decide instead to increase the number of Twenty20 games and make room in the fixture list by settling the County Championship with a series of coin tosses on April 30. You heard it here first.

* On behalf of the Amateur Society of Satirists, I would like to express my heartfelt gratitude to Mr Butt for the support he has given to our industry over the last few months and I’d like to take this opportunity to wish him many more years of top-level administration.

"Confucius? I can do better that that" © Getty Images

Friday, 24th September
Like the build-up to a bout of sumo wrestling, there are many rituals to be observed before the Ashes combatants can get to grips with one another. Today Tim Nielsen ticked off another tradition by declaring that he was unsurprised by the English touring squad. In truth, he would have said the same had the list of names included Admiral Nelson and Coco the Panda. His non-surprise is a given. But he went on:

"We're always well and truly keeping one step ahead of where we are at the moment.”

Wow. Never mind that business about the one hand clapping; this is the mother of all Zen riddles. Even to try to comprehend what this means makes your cranium ache. I suspect Jonathon Trott will still be wrestling with that one all the way out to the crease at the Gabba and all the way back to the pavilion. We pick Tremlett, you hit back with enigmatic lateral-thinking puzzles. Round one to Mr Nielsen, I think.

Saturday 25th September
For many years I was a regular at Edgbaston for international matches. I don’t go so much these days. The prospect of sitting in a glorified beer garden for eight hours surrounded by drunks singing football songs palled after a while, as did the endless Barmy Armying (if I never hear that wretched chant one more time, it will be too soon) and the reek of lager, which took days to get out of one’s panama.

My wanderings took me past the old place today, which, as you may be aware, is currently a construction site. Fancy new buildings are all the rage in domestic cricket at the moment. Having indulged themselves for years by spending money they haven’t got on overseas players they can’t afford, the county set have a new wheeze: siphoning off enormous piles of taxpayer’s cash to fund a “Who can erect the most hideous cricket structure” competition.

Lancashire’s Big Red Hospitality Oblong is the winner at the moment, although Headingley’s homage to an East German secret police headquarters is not far behind. I shudder to think what fevered architectural imagination has in store for Edgbaston, but it won’t do them any good. Fancy architraves and elegant vomitoria are not going to tempt me back. I will not be setting foot in the place until they introduce match-day prohibition (though obviously with exemptions for certain vintages of champagne).

Sunday 26th September
Really, why must Ravi Shastri shout? Does he not trust his microphone? Are Indian audio devices notoriously unreliable? He is without doubt the scariest MC ever to set foot in a sporting arena. Had he been present at the Coliseum, the lions would be cowering in their cages, with their paws over their ears. He stands, bolt upright, like a stunt double from a Terminator film and roars mightily, exhorting, nay demanding, that the crowd get ready to rock. Scared out of their wits, they obey.

Sadly the Shastri crescendo was followed by a tension-slackening shambles as once again players stood around idly whilst someone searched for a tarpaulin to cover a sightscreen that had mysteriously frozen with the sponsor’s name in place. Fortunately television seems wise to this now and the producer steadfastly refused to focus on the offending screen and its corporate decoration. Good work. Good work too by Chennai, but to be honest, the whole tournament left me feeling rather empty. For all of Ravi’s efforts, the Champions League doesn’t grab you like the IPL or the World Twenty20. It swings, certainly, but it doesn’t really rock yet.