Next Week's Scoreboard's Christmas Message: A Christmas Carol

Picture the scene. It is Christmas Eve in a small room in the Premier Inn in Durban.

Geoffrey is tired. It's been a long day, and not unusually for him, he isn't happy. He'd gone back to the hotel early, following the Test Match Special Christmas Party. The evening had got off to a bad start, so far as he was concerned, after Jonathan Agnew had been teased him about his new hat. Some people just have no respect, Geoffrey thinks: 8,114 test runs at 47.72, and the fools in the commentary box still couldn't recognise that he was better than them. And when the sommelier mixed him up with Tony Greig - well, enough was enough, and he knew he had to storm out.

He lays back on his bed and flicks through the channels on television. He is initially encouraged when he sees on the on-screen guide that Desmond Tutu's Top 50 Christmas Songs Ever! is on, but after enduring The Frog Song covered in Afrikaans, he decides that enough is enough and turns out the lights.

Geoffrey falls asleep.

After what seems like a few seconds, a crouched figure gingerly emerges from the room's wardrobe. He is wearing a long white umpire's coat, and a flat white cap on his bespectacled head. He is just putting his notebook away.

"Dickie!" exclaims Geoffrey, "What the heck are you doing here? Oh no - there hasn't been another breakout from the Retired Umpires Home again has there? You and your friends got into a lot of trouble the last time this happened, remember?"

"It was Steve Bucknor's idea to take readings with our light meters in that underground nightclub. Anyway, Geoffrey, you misunderstand me. I am not the real Dickie. No, I am the Ghost of Christmas Past. Tonight, it is my role to take you through some of the cricketing misdemeanours in your past, in order that you can reflect on how you have hurt people."

The umpire pulls out a print-out of Geoffrey's www.wikipedia.com entry from his coat pocket. He scans the front page, frowns and flicks through the next few pages.

"Actually, I think this could take quite some time. We'd better get started."

Several (very colourful) hours later, a very tired Dickie Bird bids Geoffrey farewell. He walks back into the formaldehyde wardrobe from whence he came. Geoffrey ponders a second, lays his head on the pillow and quickly goes back to sleep.

---------------

A few moments later, and a second ghost emerges from the background. It's Nasser Hussain.

"Geoffrey, I am the Ghost of Christmas Present. I am here to show you how other people around you are spending their Christmases, in order that you can watch and learn. cCome with me, please."

The former England captain gestures Geoffrey from his bed, and takes his hand. And, in a trice, Geoffrey finds that he has been whisked through the Durban sky, and is looking in on a hotel room on the other side of the city.

"This is the England team's Christmas Party," explains Hussain. Geoffrey peers inside. The England team are unwrapping their presents: "Secret Santa" explains Hussain, but Geoffrey is embarrassed to admit that is an unfamiliar concept to him. Andrew Strauss is unwrapping
his present. He smiles as he sees it is the latest John Grisham thriller, The Construction Lawyer. Elsewhere, Stuart Broad is delighted to find he has been bought hair cream.

"But they're all happy!" says Geoffrey. "How can this be?"

"It's simple, Geoffrey. They're a team. They work for each other, rather than for themselves."

"Maybe I should make more of an effort to get on with the other commentators. Maybe I'll drop into the TMS party and apologise...hang on, what's going on over there?"

In the far corner, one player is not looking so happy. Ian Bell is sat apart from the rest of the team, quietly weeping into a glass of blackcurrant and lemonade.

"What's wrong with him?" asks Geoffrey.

"Well, Geoffrey, you might ask yourself that question" explains Hussain. "A number of journalists have been calling for him to be dropped; the trouble is he's a bright lad, and he knows the hacks probably have a point."

Geoffrey looks troubled for a moment, swallows and says: "Maybe I should be a bit more sensitive when I commentate in future."

Hussain smiles at him: "That's what I wanted to hear Geoffrey. It seems that my job here is done."

Within a few moments, Geoffrey finds himself back in his bed. He nods off once more, albeit with a troubled heart.

---------------

But Geoffrey's sleep is short-lived, as no sooner has he started to snore, than has the apparition of Mark Ramprakash arrived: "In case you haven't already guessed, I am the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come," he explains.

After stepping into the Tardis, kindly loaned by Doctor Who to Next Week's Scoreboard for the purposes of this prediction, Ramprakash and Geoffrey find themselves in Birmingham, in 2020. Ramprakash explains that they are attending the Warwickshire County Cricket Club annual awards.

Compere Ashley Giles explains the next award: "Now, to celebrate the achievements of Warwickshire's greatest ever batsman, can you please give a big hand to Ian Bell, who this year scored his 100,000th first class run!"

The room stands to give Bell a worthy ovation, but Geoffrey is incredulous.

"100,000 first class runs? That's extraordinary. How many of them were test runs? Surely he must have been England's greatest ever test batsman as well - better even than me?"

"That's the tragedy, Geoffrey," laments Ramprakash, "he only scored about 4,000 test runs. Due to constant carping from commentators, his confidence was shot and he was dropped after the 2009-10 series to South Africa. He carried on scoring runs at will for Warwickshire, but the national selectors just couldn't trust him to pull his finger out at international level. He was, in short, just like me but better."

"This is awful news; what a waste! Why couldn't someone sort him out?" asks Geoffrey.

"There is one piece of good news. It does not need to be this way. It is not too late for someone to get a grip of him and coach him into the international batsman which his talent merits. The majority of those 100,000 first class runs could still be scored for England. But it needs someone to take action now, Geoffrey. Someone outside the England set-up, someone with experience. Someone with gravitas. Get my drift, Geoffrey?"

"Clearly" says Geoffrey, before he is transmuted back to his present day bed in RSA.

---------------

The next morning, Geoffrey is a changed man. He is happy, for he knows what his life's mission now is. The first person to experience his bonhomie is Ian Bell, upon whose door Geoffrey knocks at 7:00 am on Christmas Day. A bleary eyed Bell eventually responds.

"You're coming with me, lad" says Geoffrey as he grabs the Warwickshire man by the ear, "we're spending Christmas in t' nets".

Several hours later, both men walk back to the England hotel, feeling progress has been made.

---------------

It is now 5:05 pm on the final day of the Durban Test Match. Graeme Smith gesticulates to his bowlers. He knows this has been too easy for England. He had set them a target of 370 for the last day, and he had assumed that England were defeated when he had them 4 down before lunch with only 52 on the board.

But something extraordinary had happened. Ian Bell had started slowly, but had built up steam; and now he seemed unstoppable. At the other end, Jonathan Trott had batted steadily. Now, England were on 367 for 4, and just needed 3 to win. The only question was whether or not Bell could reach the double century which had eluded him at Lords years earlier. He was on 195: surely he couldn't hit a six?

Dale Steyn started his run up. He was clearly wearied, but was still doing the right thing by his country. Picking up speed, he approached the wicket. He leaped, and hurled down the ball. Short-pitched, it rose towards Bell's face. Smith dreaded the thought of Bell hooking it for six. Bell shaped to hit the ball into the stands, just as Smith feared.

But as he hit the ball, he rolled his wrists over the shot, and hit the ball into the turf before it could reach the boundary. It became clear he had preferred the boring over the bold.

"That's my lad," smiled Geoffrey, without realising he was talking out loud. And for the first time in his life, he felt a special feeling in his heart. Was this happiness, he asked himself?

International Rescue

Beneath his tired navy blue training cap, bestowed upon him by an insistent sponsor, a series of creases is etched into Andrew Strauss' forehead. He has a sense of unease as he looks across the Centurion outfield to the nets where the England fast bowlers are warming up. For some reason, Jimmy Anderson has stopped bowling. A minute later, his very worst fears are confirmed. England have lost their premier fast bowler to injury. What with Graeme Swann's depressing decision to abandon the First Test Match to appear in the Celebrity X-Factor Christmas Special, England are in trouble before the series has even begun. Adil Rashid and Luke Wright, anybody?

Strauss goes back to the dressing room to ponder a solution. Seeking inspiration, he plugs into the team i-Pod. His gloom is lifted a touch by the enthralling opening bars of 633 Squadron. [Click on the box on the right hand side of the screen for a simulation of Strauss' experience. Can't you feel his gloom lift?]

And then, destiny decides to intervene in international cricket.

At first, the crowd hear the rumble of the de Havilland Mosquito's engines, before she rolls over the horizon towards the ground. What is going on? The South African crowd believe it is a fly-past, and stand to applaud. But over the ground, two parachutists leap out of the crate, before it turns and drones out of view. The cameras pan in on the parachutists: who could they be? Stuntmen? Sacha Baron Cohen? No. First, the Sky Sports commentators identify Andrew Flintoff. Then, with his patka blustering in the breeze, they focus in on the smiling Monty Panesar.

Defying all of Galileo's best work, Flintoff lands on the outfield a couple of minutes before Panesar. There is something of a thump as he lands on his backside, but he helps himself up and explains to a delighted Strauss that the two Ashes heroes have come to save England one last time. But there's no time to explain pleasantries, as Strauss has to toss up with an apparently peeved Graeme Smith. Smith wins the toss, and on a pitch which looks like the eighteenth green at Royal Lytham St. Annes, he invites England to bat.

It's not long before the treachery of the pitch is exposed. In the second over, Dale Steyn breaks Andrew Strauss' finger. The England physio suggests he should go off; but he waspishly responds "Be off with you! This is a Test Match. I am playing for England, and to go off now would be improper of me. "

And whilst Alastair Cook perishes to a bouncing delivery which catches his glove, Strauss' pain apparently improves his batting. Or perhaps it is just the sun which has come out, drying off the pitch. In any event, by lunch England are on 99-1 (Strauss 52*, Trott 24). After lunch, the pitch is becalmed; runs follow runs, and Strauss reaches his hundred in front of a disappointed crowd of tanned, semi-dressed beefburgers croaking indecipherable insults at the English batsmen, to the amusement of nobody but themselves. At the other end, Jonathan Trott is batting steadily.

Finally, Strauss is gone. Paul Harris is bowling awfully, and Geoff Boycott is annoying the SuperSports viewers by banging on about stealing candy off a child. But finally he gets one to turn off a dead dandelion in the pitch, and Umpire Rauf raises his finger. He is clearly not out, but later explains that for the England captain to bother using the referral system would be "improper".

Enter Kevin Pietersen. The South African crowd tries to boo him, but with their unfortunate accents even that comes out wrong, as "Baa!". Pietersen is puzzled, and wonders if they don't like his new Kevin Keegan style hair-cut.

In any event, he uses the abuse to inspire him. Scratchy at first, he improves as the overs roll by. At the other end, Trott is batting steadily. But Graeme Smith can't help express his irritation that they can't dismiss the two South African batsmen. "Why are you two playing for England?" he asks them.

"It's a better country than South Africa," responds Pietersen.

In any case, Pietersen bats steadily, and by the close of play on day one, England are in pole position at 333-2. Asked by David Gower what his strategy is for the next day's play, Trott explains that he plans "to bat steadily".

On the second day, Pietersen picks up the pace, as Trott bats steadily. When England eventually declare after tea on 656 for 3, mop-headed Pietersen has just retired, having reached 332. He explains that his decision to pull out was out of deference for Graham Gooch's epic 333 against India. In his interview at the end of the day, Trott explains to David Gower that he is satisfied that he batted steadily.

Before that, there is just time for Flintoff to steam-roller in for a few express overs. It's been a few months since he picked up a cricket ball, and his heavy footsteps make the bails fall off at the non-striker's end a couple of times, but once that is all sorted out, he gets the ball up to 93 mph to dismiss Graeme Smith. But there are no more breakthroughs for England that evening and South Africa close at 69-1.

The third morning is a turgid affair. Tim Bresnan and Monty Panesar bowl an extraordinary 22 consecutive maidens to Jacques Kallis and Hashim Amla, and Kallis seems very lucky to survive three close lbw shouts to Panesar. Meanwhile, in the TMS commentary box, the new policy of having two guest commentators on at the same time is leading to some interesting exchanges. "Why are these South African batsmen so lucky? Well, I believe it is that they have benefited from the blessing I gave them last Sunday" asserts Archbishop Desmond Tutu. But Matthew Hoggard is unimpressed: "Nay, be buggered."

Finally, though, Kallis perishes to a rising ball from the persisting Stuart Broad. And stripped of his partner, Amla misjudges a flighted delivery from Panesar in the next over, and is stumped after dancing past the ball. From that point on, every few overs the England team make a breakthrough, until Steyn's off-stump is uprooted by a Panesar quicker ball - measured at 85 mph. South Africa are out for a rather miserable 256: so exactly 400 runs behind. Back in the dressing room, Strauss is not sure what to do; but he turns to see that Andrew Flintoff has already changed his shirt, has gone out to the middle and is marking out his run-up. His inspiring presence is again too much for Graeme Smith: he shoulders arms to an inswinger, and a moment later a splinter from his middle stump has become wedged in Matthew Prior's pads. But that's all folks; a few moment later Umpire Rauf raises his light meter to the sky, nods, and walks off.

The fourth day is lost to rain.

The morning of the fifth day is lost to rain as well.

But by the afternoon, Strauss has been able to persuade Umpires Rauf and Bowden to take the field. Naturally, Graeme Smith moans - but as Umpire Bowden says at the time, when doesn't he? England are only able to use their slower bowlers. Trott bowls steadily. Panesar bowls beautifully; but without luck. Is the game a draw? Not quite: Kevin Pietersen is at hand, and when he dismisses two of his former countrymen in one over, there is more disquiet on the South African dressing room. On a drying pitch, Panesar finds the right pace and becomes a real handful. Whilst Kallis is still batting steadily, JP Duminy and AB de Villiers lost out to become further victims of the Sussex twirler's wizardry.

Wicket follows wicket: but over follows over. Finally, there is one over left. There is one wicket left. Kallis is batting. Panesar is bowling. Who will it be? The most boring batsman since Boycott retired, or the cheery spin trickster? Let me give you a clue: Father Christmas has a beard, and delivers presents to children across the world at this time of year. But this time, someone else with a beard delivers the England fans a Christmas present they will never forget.

NWS Review of the Ashes Series, 2010-11

With many apologies for the delay, following the successful conclusion of the 2009 Ashes series, now seems like the perfect time to pick out some of the highlights of the return "rubber" in Australia, during the 2010/2011 winter series.

1st Test Match, Brisbane

England win the match at the Gabba by fifteen runs, following the brave decision by England captain Andrew Strauss to bat first with a batting line-weakened by injury. Really, the game should have been remembered for the superb 155* hit by Northamptonshire's Alex Wakely on his debut, but the real story of this match is the introduction of Digi-Ump, the successor to Hawkeye.

Following a successful trial in a one day match between Somerset and Leicestershire, the onfield umpires have been replaced by two special HD video cameras, sitting on tripods where the umpires would ordinarily stand. The cameras record what has happened, and using special bluetooth technology they communicate with each other to calculate whether the batsman is out. As inventor Trevor Bayliss explains, Digi-Ump's main purpose is to improve accuracy in decision making, but he also hopes that Digi-Ump's pleasant female voice when calling "over" will calm down over-excitable players.

Unfortunately, that is not the effect: Peter Siddle is fined his entire match fee for attacking Digi-Ump when she turns down a vociferous appeal for LBW. The experiment is finally abandoned when Digi-Ump short circuits, after water from an unexpectedly ferocious cloudburst gets into her systems.

2nd Test Match, Adelaide

Match tied. Chasing 129 in the final innings, it looks for all the world that the Australians will reach their target: at 81-1, they must think they will win. At 110-4, surely they will win. Even at 127-7, surely an England escape is impossible. But cometh the hour, cometh Stuart Broad...

3rd Test Match, Perth

The WACA match is a fast-bowling war.

Bowling in the first innings, Mitchell Johnson starts bowling what is billed by the local media as "Revenge for Bodyline". Reaching speeds of 94 mph, he bowls leg-theory at the batting sensation of the English summer, Ravi Bopara. Johnson's leg-trap comprises the wicketkeeper standing at leg slip, one leg gully and two short-legs. On the boundary, there are two deep mid-wickets. As Australia just have two fieldsmen behind square, Umpire Bowden is powerless to no-ball Johnson. On seeing what the field being put in place, Bopara calls on the physio, who straps a pillow round his torso. He is able to wear the necessary blows, and is eventually out for a magnificent, brave, but above all sweaty 177.

The England bowlers are piqued by the Australians' conduct, and Captain Strauss is unable to calm down Saj Mahmood in particular. In a spell as furious as anything Bob Willis delivered, Mahmood bowls faster and faster, at one point hitting 97.7 mph. Concerned that he is somewhere else, Mahmood's teammates try to speak to him. But he does not hear them; instead, like a Cyberman preparing for battle, he looks vacantly into the middle distance. and continues about his business. Whenever he takes a wicket, he does not celebrate; he merely asks the umpires to bring him another Australian batsman, and walks to the back of his mark and waits. He only comes out of his fast bowling trance having taken 7-17.

Unfortunately, days four and five are lost to a heavy rainstorm, and the match finishes in a draw.

4th Test Match, Melborne

It is arguable that Bay 13 at the MCG serves a useful purpose, for without poor crowd behaviour we would not be able to recognise good behaviour. If that is the case, then after this performance it should be particularly easy to appreciate the polite clapping of the members in the next Lords Test Match.

Australia try to regain the initiative by preparing a "dust bowl" and playing four spinners. Unfortunately, the strategy does not work, as one of the elected spinners is Nathan Hauritz and another is Beau Casson; they are unable to contribute a single wicket between them. Nevertheless, the surfeit of tweak does inspire England batsman Kevin Pietersen to bring out his unique double-sided cricket bat. He explains that it is intended to facilitate his switch-hit, and indeed, he thwacks Casson into the crowd with his trademark reverse slog-sweep.

This incenses the contents of Bay 13, who start to chant tired, predictable and homophobic jibes about Pietersen swinging it both ways. Quite properly, he responds in the next over by hitting a ball from Hauritz straight into infamous mob. Knowing that Pietersen has the better of them, they start to riot. The game is stopped, and they only quieten several hours later when Billy Bowden sensibly suggests that they should doused using the sprinkler normally used to water the outfield. Still, the delay to the match is just enough to help Australia to a draw.

5th Test Match, Sydney

Obviously I could tell you whether or not England are able to hang on to a draw, so you would know whether they claim a series victory, but I'm not going to, because that would spoil the surprise. As The Supremes once sang in a different context, you'll just have to wait.

However, I will say that the principal feature of this match is a hugely brave performance from Paul Collingwood, who has been flown in from England as emergency cover for the injured Joe Denly. Unfortunately, Denly hurt his knee playing football in the warm-up to net practice, 48 hours before the game. Owing to a booking error by British Airways, Collingwood only arrives an hour before the start of play. Still very jet lagged, Collingwood is pressed into early action as Michael Clarke wins the toss, and England have to field first. Collingwood struggles on as the Australians score six hundred; then England are skittled and have to follow-on. Danger: Strauss, Bopara and Pietersen are out cheaply second time round. With still twenty minutes to play on the fourth day, Collingwood is forced by Strauss to bat again, battling Australians and exhaustion as he tries to see England to stumps. He manages that, but how long can he survive on the fifth day?

Wearing sunglasses to protect his weary eyes, he grinds onwards and onwards, keeping the increasingly desperate Antipodeans out. With an hour to go, Collingwood is dismissed for 132, and England are in trouble again with seven wickets down. Once Collingwood has taken his pads off, Strauss graciously lets him get some well-earned sleep. But will he wake up to the rosy smell of an England series victory, or will it be the sickly whiff of Australians spraying themselves with champagne?

The Greatest Story Ever Told

"Heads it is then Ricky."

"I think we'll have a bowl" decides Ponting, after some reflection "It's a flat pitch and a beautifully sunny day, so we'll need to do well to bowl England out twice. If we field first, we can get started on that early."

"Er...right. OK. Andrew, your thoughts?" asks Sky TV's Paul Allott.

"Well, we'll need to make sure we don't collapse like a house of cards this morning, but if we can show some spine we should be well placed for the rest of the match. As it's a flat pitch, we've gone for the extra bowler and we've brought back Andrew Flintoff and Monty Panesar for Ravi Bopara and Graeme Onions. I'm not telling you who's batting at three because you'll think I'm being silly."

"Perhaps that's Monty then. Have you got any message for the fans that you so let down so feebly in Leeds?"

"As it happens, I do. Firstly, we sincerely apologise. It will not happen again. Secondly, we don't want you to boo Ricky Ponting when he comes out to bat. There's little point in us beating the Australians if our fans are going to behave like them."

Unfortunately, though, the early signs are that England's batting has not improved since Headingley: Alastair Cook tries to drive the third ball of Ben Hilfenhaus' third over, but only succeeds in spooning the point to mid-off. The mystery of the England number three is then resolved, as Stuart Broad walks out of the England dressing room. Hilfenhaus pitches the ball up, trying to tempt Broad into playing the same shot as that which accounted for Cook. But Broad does not move his feet, and just misses the ball together. Next ball, same delivery, different result. Broad strides forward, strikes through the heart of the ball, and a second or so later it has skimmed past mid-off and hit the advertising hoardings for an emphatic boundary.

Batting at the other end, Strauss pushes a quick single to put Broad back on strike. Mitchell Johnson tries a bouncer outside off-stump; Broad's hook shot is out of control, but such is the power of his shot that the ball flies over the slip cordon for six. And as Broad plays shot after shot, England's tactic is becoming clear: Broad has been sent in as the first pinch-hitter in Test Match history. In a splendid innings that sets the Oval alight, he hits 86 before skying Simon Katich, twenty minutes before the luncheon interval. By the time that the players sit down for lunch, England have made a pulsating start and are at 141-2.

The afternoon's cricket is remarkable for the heat; the temperature at the Oval hits 32 degrees centigrade. Certainly by the evening session, the Australian pacemen are wearying, as the England batsmen strike boundary after boundary. A close of play, it's 412 for 5 (Strauss 158, Broad 86, Bell 86) and Flintoff and Prior are at the crease.

In the indoor nets after play has finished, Monty Panesar is bowling poorly. With a worried look on his face, coach Andy Flower says something quietly to Andrew Strauss, standing alongside him. The Australian spy standing on the balcony lipreads the words "Operation Big Boy" but can't work out what that could mean.

Three hours later, a plane takes off from Delhi Airport, bound for London Heathrow.

Friday morning sees another beautiful day, but not for the Australians. Flintoff makes his intentions quite clear, as he casually lifts Stuart Clark's third ball into the crowd behind mid-off. And then, in scenes mirroring Stuart Broad's innings on the previous day, he savages the Australian bowling. Then, in a scene this time mirroring his century at Lords in 2003, he splits his bat in two, before perishing two balls later to a slower one from Peter Siddle for a violent 105. But it's still 578 for 7 at lunch. After lunch, Graeme Swann inflicts some final misery on the Australians before England declare at 700 for 9 with twenty minutes to go until tea.

Andrew Flintoff takes the new ball with Steve Harmison, but it is the Durham man who strikes first blood as he has Shane Watson caught at gully. Ponting walks out - thankfully to the dignified applause from both the England players and their fans which is worthy of one of the greatest batsmen of his age - and he is able to shepherd the Australian innings safely to tea.

Indeed, he does more than that after tea, as the Australian innings starts to take off. None of Harmison, Flintoff, James Anderson, Swann nor Panesar can get past either Ponting and Simon Katich. Indeed, Panesar looks positively dejected as Australia look a good deal more secure at 111-1 at the close of play. But Captain Strauss looks cheerful. Commentator Agnew asks why, as he interviews him on BBC Test Match Special. Enigmatically, Strauss just smiles and says that he's read Next Week's Scoreboard and knows what's coming in the rest of the match.

As the Australians leave for their hotel that evening, there is a "media scrum", as England smuggle their secret, missing, ingredient from a taxi into the indoor nets. As he is covered by a blanket, and as the balcony has now been closed off, it's impossible to know who "Big Boy" is.

By the following morning, if the Australian batsmen do not know, they must have a fair idea. Monty Panesar is looking elated, but somewhat tired. Although he was asked by Strauss not to talk to the media, he later admits he was bowling in the nets until five in the morning. Given the first over against Ponting, his second ball turns and bounces. This disconcerts Ponting, who plays no shot to the following delivery. But this ball does not turn, and just thuds sadly into Ponting's front pad. Umpire Billy Bowden raises his finger as confirmation, but Ponting had already walked. The following ball is pitched into the developing rough patch outside Mike Hussey's off-stump. Foolishly, he leaves the ball. It spits from the ground and strikes him on the pad; once again, Bowden confirms the dismissal. Panesar on a hat-trick; Michael Clarke on strike. He confidently takes guard. Monty trots in; Clarke presses forward as the ball floats above his eyeline. But he beaten somehow by the flight of the ball; he is through his shot too early. The ball passes his bat. The ball strikes his back leg, which he has shifted accross to protect his stumps, but this is fooling nobody. Least of Umpire Bowden, who completes a personal hat trick of lbw dismissals, as Northamptonshire twirler Panesar goes berserk.

Up on the England balcony, the door to the dressing room opens. Out steps Bishen Bedi,wearing an England sweater. He looks tired but pleased with his work. It suddenly becomes clear to a crestfallen Ponting who "Big Boy" is.

Australia are in all sorts of trouble at 172-6 at lunch (Ponting 68, Panesar 4-54). But after lunch, some rich hitting from Mitchell Johnson and Brad Haddin, bravely batting with a broken finger, sees the Australians recover, before Flintoff uproots Haddin's off-stump. Eventually, Panesar claims three more wickets, and with an hour to go, Australia are all out for 325. Strauss enforces the follow-on, but the England players are unable to take the field, as a stray sirocco strikes South West London. The groundsmen move quickly, but some sand still gets on the pitch. Climate change, indeed.

Oh, what a Himalayan task it is that is set in front of the Australian batsmen on the morning of the fourth day, as they face up to the daunting task of batting out two days against resurgent spin-twins Panesar and Swann, on a pitch offering turn, bounce and sand, and requiring 415 just to make England bat again. But they start well, and it is 11:35 before Panesar takes his first, catching Watson's outside edge to have him caught at slip. Ponting comes out - to more dignified applause - and he is immediately surrounded by fieldsmen. But he survives a couple of testing overs from Panesar, and in the end, it is Katich who fails; he too edges one that turns and bounces, this time from the last ball of Swann's over.

When Ponting pushes a single off the first ball of Panesar's next over, Hussey faces the unwelcome challenge of avoiding a king pair. Panesar stairs him in the eyes, like a prowling cat. As the ball buzzes through the air, and lands in the rough that outdid him in the first innings, Hussey is faced with Morton's Fork: can he afford to leave the ball and risk a second, humiliating, lbw, or should he play a shot and risk a bat/pad catch? Surely, he would have been out either way, but in the end he is caught by Bell at silly point for his second golden duck of the match.

With the England pacemen struggling with a sand affected ball, progress is slow thereafter. Panesar picks up wickets intermittently, but Ponting is playing well at the other end. By tea, the Australians are on 214 for 5. Panesar takes two more, taking his haul to seven, before Nathan Hauritz digs in with Ponting. Finally, Swann traps Hauritz lbw with one that turns sharply from a Mitchell Johnson foothole, before Panesar traps Siddle in the same fashion the following over. Nine down - surely the Australians cannot hold out?

But with Ponting, now having passed a hundred, taking the bulk of the strike, the England spinners cannot break through. For an hour, Panesar and Swann bowl unchanged. With Ponting on 145, Panesar asks for a break. The ball is thrown to Andrew Flintoff. With his fifth ball, he manages to achieve some reverse swing; the ball starts outside off, but swings in over the last third of the pitch. The tired Ponting is unable to get his bat down on to the ball, and it strikes him on the toe. He is hurting, but this warrior is not ready to give up. He looks up, hoping Bowden will forgive him. But the Kiwi Umpire has made his mind up, and he signals game, set and match with his right index finger. Australia are all out for 317, and England have won the Ashes 2-1.

An hour later, as the light fades, Andrew Strauss holds up the (replica) Ashes in celebration. As the Australians sportingly applaud, there is suddenly the roar of jet engines. The Red Arrows fly past. They use red, blue and white smoke to leave a special message across the sky "THANKS FOR EVERYTHING FREDDIE."

As Henry Blofeld in the TMS commentary box says that this is "really rather splendid", the giant
Lancastrian just stands on the England balcony, nods in appreciation and takes another swig of Boddingtons.

Revenge of the Shermanator

Having arrived a day early, owing to their bemusement at the idea that an Ashes Test Match could possibly begin on a Friday, both teams feel entirely well prepared as the two captains toss up thirty minutes before play. Ricky Ponting calls incorrectly, and Andrew Strauss decides to bat first as the Sky TV cameras catch a glimpse of dirty cotton wool in the background skies. Will it rain? Only time will tell. In the meantime, Strauss is coy about whether Andrew Flintoff will bowl, or whether he will just play as specialist batsman.

As it happens, the cloud spied by the Sky cameras passes by Headingley and showers Skipton instead, as England make a spectacular start. Mitchell Johnson's run-up is disturbed as the wind broadsides him like a floundering yacht, and he is not able to control the direction of the ball. After three overs, and 38 runs, Ponting asks "Gillespie 05" (as he is now called by his teammates) to take a break. Soon after, with the score on 43 for 0, the rain starts falling. Play is abandoned for the day at 3:30, as the cameras follow a Cocker Spaniel playing in a puddle on the outfield. At least someone is enjoying the unseasonal conditions.

Happily, the players are met with slightly better conditions on Saturday, and play is able to start on time. Alastair Cook is quickly out, as Hilfenhaus gets a ball to straighten into his pad. Ravi Bopara comes to the crease, and then plays and misses Hilfenhaus. He also plays and misses Peter Siddle on three further occasions, before realising that by doing so, he is winding up the Australian bowler. Bopara deliberately plays inside the line of three further balls, and Siddle is incensed. He accelerates his run-up, but loses his rhythm and bowls a giant no-ball. Now furious, he bowls Bopara a long-hop which the Essex man clubs for six. To protect the innocence of viewers who can lip-read, Sky TV take the precaution of pixelating Siddle's mouth during the remainder of the day's television footage.

In any event, Strauss plays solidly during the morning, and whilst Bopara has the occasional scare against the improving Johnson, the Australians are not able to take any further wickets during the morning session. At lunch, England are on 143-1, having added exactly 100 during the morning session.

As the morning comes, so the afternoon follows, and under brightening skies, England progress slowly during the Saturday afternoon session. Having realised they are unlikely to dismiss the English batsmen with an old ball, the Australians decide to bowl negative lines in order to restrict the run-scoring. The only moment of real interest arises when Bopara loses patience with Simon Katich's chinamen, and clubs the Australian into the crowd for a giant six. The ball strikes a man dressed as a racing driver; he makes no effort to evade the ball and he remains unmoved as the ball bounces off his helmet. The only mystery is whether the victim of Bopara's blow is another fancy dress reveller, or whether The Stig has really decided to attend a cricket match. Perhaps we will never know. In any case, England reach 278-1 at tea.

A flurry of wickets fall after tea, as the Australians take the second new ball and the clouds roll in. But England are already well placed, and when the players come off for bad light at 5:30 with England on 343-5, an Australian series victory seems highly remote. And that possibility takes a further nosedive shortly after tea, when the Met Office issues a Severe Weather Warning for the Yorkshire area, promising rain over Headingley during the whole of Sunday and Monday.

And indeed, at 11:30 on Sunday morning, the Australians are sat behind the dressing room window, looking upon a grey Headingley against a grey background. Ponting reflects that the droplets of rain sliding down the pane of glass could just as easily be his tears, as he sees Australia's chances of a series victory slide out of view. Sunday's play is rained off entirely.

But you should never believe Michael Fish, and by 2:00 on Monday, he finds himself batting: after the weather unexpectedly clears up, England declare and Shane Watson promptly departs for a golden duck in the very first over. On his first ball, Ponting faces his a pumped up Steve Harmison. He knows that if he can see off Harmison and build innings, Australia will be safe for this match at least. Unfortunately, he can't: he too is out for a golden duck, and Australia are in a most precarious position at 0-2.

Katich and Michael Hussey try to rebuild the innings against a slightly chaotic England seam-bowling attack, before an inspired bowling change by Andrew Strauss brings another cluster of wickets: in his first over, in spitting rain, Graeme Swann glides a ball through Katich's defensive stroke to hit the stumps, and then three balls later, Hussey is out caught at slip off one that turns and bounces. Michael Clarke is out to Harmison the next over, and the Australian batting card deteriorates further to 42-8. Unfortunately, at that point, it starts raining.

There is great excitement on the next, and final morning. There is speculation about the Australian batting ("Nay, they've now't chance o' survivin'" - Matthew Hoggard). There is speculation about the weather ("We're expecting some areas of unsettled weather in Easterly regions" - Rob McElwee). There is speculation about the England bowling ("My grandmother could play Steve Harmison with a stick of rhubarb" - you know who). It is something of a relief when the reality of play brings an end to the chatter.

Johnson and Siddle bat aggressively to keep the first Australian innings going, and as the Australian total passes 100, there is natural concern that Australia may reach the follow-on total. And when the cloud closes in, Strauss his forced to turn to his slower bowlers in case the light is offered to the Australians. And then; Ian Bell strikes a double blow with his little dobblers. Firstly, Johnson pads up to a ball which swings into him, like a slow-motion of his dismissal to Anderson at Edgbaston, and then the very next ball, Bell curves an in-swinger between Ben Hilfenhaus' bat and pad to rattle the Australian's stumps. Australia are all out for 114, and Strauss naturally decides to enforce the follow-on.

So, it is 11:42, the light is very poor, and Ian Bell and Paul Collingwood are forced to take the new ball. Collingwood takes the first over to Katich, which passes with just one play and miss from the Australian southpaw. Bell runs in gently; he aims the ball half a foot outside Shane Watson's off-stump. Watson raises his bat to leave the ball. But as it enters the batsman's half of the pitch, the ball arcs in, just as it did with Hilfenhaus. This time, the ball thuds into Watson's pad. Bell appeals. The England fielders appeal. The whole of the Western Terrace appeals. After a moment's reflection, Umpire Aleem Dar nods his head, and a further moment later, he raises his right finger. Ian Bell has a Test Match hattrick. Shane Watson has a king pair.

Bell and Collingwood aren't able to take any further wickets in the gloom, so Australia go into lunch on 45-1. As the skies brighten after lunch, Strauss is able to bring back his senior bowlers, who are able to extract pace and bounce on a wearing pitch. Harmison has Ponting caught at short-leg (has the Australian captain got a weakness against the short ball?), and Hussey is caught at third slip off the same bowler. Michael Clarke and Simon Katich dig in, but just before tea, Clarke plays an Anderson in-swinger onto his stumps. As the players tuck into their cheese and pickle sandwiches, the score is 115-4.

In a slightly surprising move, Swann is brought on at the Kirkstall Lane End immediately after tea. He pitches two balls into one of Anderson's footmarks, and they sharply turn away from Marcus North. But the third ball, pitching in the same place, takes no grip and just thumps North's pads, before ricocheting off his gloves into Bell's hands at point. Five down. Two overs later, the same bowler and fieldsman combine again, as Graham Manou falls to an unlucky dismissal: he plays the ball straight onto his boot and up into Bell's hands. Six down. It looks as if England will be able to take an early shower at the scene of Sir Ian Botham's heroics in 1981, but for the second time that day, Mitchell Johnson digs in.

England become desperate, and Andrew Strauss uses all his bowling options. But it is clear Flintoff is not fit to bowl; so, he was playing as a specialist batsman after all. With ten overs to go, Steve Harmison asks to have a bowl. With his third ball, he makes the crucial breakthrough - after his long vigil, Katich is out - caught third slip, just like Hussey. Is there a glimmer of hope for England? Well...yes. The final ball of that over sees Hauritz given lbw to an in-swinging yorker, which he claims he has not seen through the murky light.

With nine overs or two wickets to go, Johnson complains about the light to the umpires as Peter Siddle walks out. Umpire Dar confers with Rudi Koertzen; they discuss the position and Dar holds up his light meter - and they decide to go on with the match. Distracted, Johnson plays no shot to the following delivery from Anderson. Johnson's heart sinks as at first the umpire twitches, before raising his trademark slow finger of death. It looks like the match could come to an immediate conclusion, but Hilfenhaus plays out the over.

One more wicket to go now. Eight overs available. But Siddle plays out Harmison's over too. And Hilfenhaus sees off a tiring Anderson; seven overs remaining. Then six, then five. As the "Overs Remaining" counter on the scoreboard ticks down to three, then two, it seems the Australians are safe. Harmison has six balls left. He bowls with all his might, and with his penultimate ball he traps Siddle in front of all three stumps. But inexplicably, Dar turns the appeal down. So the match goes into the final over.

Injured or not, Andrew Flintoff decides he is taking the over and marks out his run-up. Hilfenhaus cowers at the other end. Can the England colossus get the final wicket? Can the Australians survive to take the series into the final Test Match at the Oval? Well, that would be telling...

Hijacked

After their lucky win against Northamptonshire, Australia converge on Birmingham with their spirits high. And who can blame them, as the sun beams down on a flat Edgbaston track?


"We'll field" decides Ricky Ponting, after winning the toss.


"Surely that can't be right on a flat deck in the blazing sunshine, Ricky? You do remember what happened in 2005?" queries Paul Allott, who is covering the toss for Sky Sports.


"Well, I know it's right. Because back in my hotel room last night, I had a visitation from the ghost of Don Bradman, and he told me I should definitely field. It was the most amazing experience of my life; I never knew the Don had a mackem accent."



As Shane Warne angrily explains to Sky viewers that this is another "s**thouse decision from a s**t-for-brains captain", Paul Collingwood sits in the England dressing room sniggering.



In any case, a few moments later, Alastair Cook and Ian Bell are batting, Andrew Strauss having decided to move down to three in a reshuffle of a batting order. The change in place seems to suit Bell, as he crafts a series of Johnson half-volleys to the cover point boundary. Ponting changes the bowling around. Between overs, Siddle snarls at Bell like a hungry veloceraptor, but the Englishman is undisturbed and England are attractively placed at 121-0 at lunch.


Things don't get much better for the Australians after lunch. Cook edges Nathan Hauritz to Brad Haddin soon after the break, but Strauss is a more than adequate replacement; 210-1 at tea. Meanwhile, Siddle has lost it, and questions the parentage of each of Strauss, Bell, Ponting and both umpires, all in the space of ten minutes. Bell departs to Hauritz immediately after reaching a triumphant hundred in the evening session, and shortly afterwards, Strauss, Ravi Bopara and Collingwood fall to the new ball in what Jonathan Agnew calls a "mini-collapse"; nevertheless, Matthew Prior and Andrew Flintoff see out the rest of the day, and England are well placed at 345-5.


The weather of the second day is every bit as wonderful as that of the first. After a few minutes, Flintoff is batting with a bead of sweat, as he clouts a series of unworthy deliveries from Johnson to the boundary to set his juices flowing. He cannot stop himself from scoring a hundred before lunch (his favourite - steak and chips). So the day proceeds, and England declare with an hour to go at 602-7 (Flintoff 188, Bell 100). There is just time for Philip Hughes to fall to a Flintoff bouncer, and for Ponting to fall lbw to an Anderson yorker. He complains to the umpire about the decision, but replays clearly show he was out.


Saturday morning is cloudy, and the overcast conditions assist the English swing bowlers. Mike Hussey and Simon Katich play well to keep them out, but after half an hour, Hussey plays no shot to an Anderson in-swinger, and umpire Doctrove raises his finger. Michael Clarke edges the next ball to Flintoff at second slip, and suddenly, Australia are at 78-4. But incoming batsman Shane Watson keeps the England bowlers out until lunchtime.


An ECB press release at Saturday lunchtime explains that Flintoff's knee has worsened, but he intends to play on. After lunch, he shortens his run up to five paces, but still keeps his pace above 90 mph. After three overs, he finally breaks through, making a steepling ball rise into Katich's fingers. The ball flies to Alastair Cook in the gully, and Katich is forced to depart after a composed 68. Once again, one leads to two; and two leads to three, and finally, Siddle has his off-stump uprooted, and Australia are all out for 278. With an hour and a half to go, Strauss decides to enforce the follow-on.


And then the Australians defy the principle that a team following on usually bats better than the first time round. It's not long before they are facing certain defeat at 30-5. Haddin and Clarke dig in, but when they are both snaffled by Flintoff, and when Anderson cleans up Hauritz and Siddle in successive deliveries, it looks as if England may finish the job in three days. But at 79-9, the clouds draw in and the last two Australian batsmen gratefully accept the light. Surely, though, it will not take England long to win on the fourth day.

But overnight, a storm rolls in from the Welsh hills, and in its tail lies hours of persistent drizzle. This is especially unfortunate for Prime Minister Gordon Brown, who decided Sunday would be the best day to be seen at the cricket. He spends the whole day looking miserably across the ground as the rain continues. He wonders to himself why people enjoy cricket so much.

Brown comes back on Monday, but the weather is still poor. Again, drizzle wipes out the morning session. There is some anxiety building in the England dressing-room, who know they need just one more wicket - but can they get out on to the pitch to take it?

Finally, the rain stops at 3:10, and Steve Rouse's team burst into action. Squeegy machines are lorried in from the county grounds at Worcestershire, Nottinghamshire, Leicestershire and Northamptonshire to support the operation. It's a race against both time and elements; but after an epic effort by the groundsmen and a final inspection by the umpires, it is decided that just three overs of play will be possible on the final day.

But oh no: what is this? Another press release from the ECB; Flintoff's knee has worsened. He is unable to run at all. The press release reads on: as he has carried the knee injury into the match, Ponting has declined the England management's sensible suggestion of a substitute fieldsman, so they have decided Flintoff will have to field at slip.

At the resumption, all nine fielders crowd around Johnson. Jimmy Anderson is given the first of the three overs. His very first ball is an in-swinger which strikes Johnson on the pad; but Umpire Doctrove declines the vociferous appeal. The rest of the over passes harmlessly, frustratingly, outside the off-stump. The next over is given to Graeme Swann, but the closest he comes to a wicket is an edge off Hilfenhaus' bat which lands just in front of slip.

At the end of the over, Prior throws Flintoff the ball for him pass on to Anderson, so that he can bowl the final over. But Flintoff does not pass it on; he has decided to bowl himself. He cannot run, so has to stand rooted at the return crease, using his immense upper body strength to bowl at any pace. Johnson is surprised by the pace of his first ball, at 85.7 mph, but he can let it go outside the off-stump. The second and third are quicker, but Johnson can defend. The fourth ball hits 90 mph. The ball strikes Johnson's pad, but Flintoff's appeal is curtailed when he realises the ball has pitched outside the off stump. Amazingly, off no run-up at all, Flintoff bowls the fifth ball at 93 mph. Johnson flails outside the off stump, but the ball just misses his bat. One more ball to go now.

Flintoff goes to Strauss, and explains that he thinks he can manage his full run-up for just one ball. One final effort to bring victory to England. He charges in, raises his arm, and that's it, he bowls. The ball passes outside Johnson's leg stump, through to 'keeper Prior. Johnson celebrates the draw, but as he tries to shake hands with Cook at silly-point, he sees Umpire Doctrove's arm out. No ball. One more delivery to go.

Flintoff comes in again. This time the ball is straighter. Johnson follows the line of the ball, but as it pitches, the ball deviates off the seam. It catches the inside edge of his bat, and knocks out his off stump. Flintoff is stunned; Johnson is stunned. They look into each other's eyes in silence. But the moment is brief, and no sooner has the connection been made, than Flintoff is mobbed by his teammates.

Later on, Gordon Brown smiles as presents the nPower man-of-the-match award to the Lancastrian colossus.

"And now, Andrew, here is your cheque for £5,000 from nPower. But I have a special surprise for you" smiles the prime minister.

"A crate of Boddingtons?" responds an excited Flintoff.

"No" says Brown, gesturing with a waft of his arm to the sky to the West of Birmingham. And at that moment, a red helicopter comes through the sunset. It flies quickly in, and lands on the sodden Edgbaston outfield. The pilot jumps out and opens the door. Gingerly, out steps Her Majesty the Queen. She approaches Flintoff.

"Right, let's get this over with. Down on your knees, please" she orders Flintoff.

"But I haven't done anything to deserve this!" pleads the Lancastrian.

"Cut the cr&p, fat boy. I don't want to do this any more than you do, but it's the Prime Minister's wish and royal protocol requires me to do what he says. I don't need to tell you what happened to the last person who disobeyed the Monarch."

Flintoff finally acquiesces and kneels before her. Her Majesty draws a sword from within her frock and taps him on both shoulders. As the crowd roars, she says those fateful words: "Arise, Sir Andrew!"

A day in the life of...

...Ricky feels the heat burning into his skin. The pressure is bearing down on him. He crouches down at slip as Siddle ran in, the ball pitches, and clonk, that's it. The crowd erupts to salute Monty Panesar as he reaches his double hundred. With Jimmy Anderson also in three figures, and England on 892 for 9, Australia are in trouble...deep trouble...deep trouble...

"Ricky, Ricky, wake up mate. You're having a dream."

...Ricky rolls over, and his sweat-sodden bedclothes immediately shake him awake. He looks up at the alarm clock. 3:00 am. He has been having the same nightmare every night since the conclusion of the First Test Match at Cardiff. He takes a drink from the glass of water on his bedside table, and tries to get back to sleep. He knows he has a big day ahead of him. It is the last day of the Second Test Match at Lords, and Australia are battling to avoid defeat. Tired, he slips away into another bout of disturbed sleep.

---

Fifteen minutes before play, and it's time for the team song, to the theme tune of Neighbours.

"Teammates; everybody needs good teammates;

With a little understanding;

You can find the perfect friend;

Teammates..."

And so on. Ricky knows most of the team feel the lyrics are a tad unimaginative, and feel a bit uncomfortable singing anyway, but he doesn't want to hurt the feelings of Michael Clarke, who is in charge of the team song.

As he sings on with a plastered smile, Ricky drifts away. He contemplates the Australian position in the match: a few minutes before the start of the fifth and final day, and Australia are in some difficulty: Australia failed in their first innings with 233 all out (Harmison 5-48, Swann 3-20), and by the fourth day England declared on 455 for 5, with a commanding lead of 222. Realistically, a draw is the best the Australians can manage on the final day.

---

Sitting on the balcony, Ricky looks up at the clock on the giant video screen. 11:12am. Hughes has not lasted long, predictably falling to a short one in Harmison's second over. With Australia in trouble, it is time for him to bat.

He gets up, and walks purposely downstairs. His spikes crunch against the wooden floor of the Lords Long Room. He feels a sense of history as he walks amongst the artifacts and paintings. But then he shudders, as he makes eye contact with Douglas Jardine's portrait.

He emerges into the sunshine and he knows he's got to have a good day with the bat if Australia are to have any chance to save the match. As he approaches the crease, Kevin Pietersen winks at him.

Umpire Aleem Dar gives him a middle and leg guard, and he scrapes his guard in the ground like a donkey scratching at the dust. Beneath his helmet, he looks around at the field: three slips, gully, mid off, third man, short leg, mid on and deep fine leg.

At the end of his mark, Harmison starts his run. At first, a walk. Then a canter. Then, a gallop, with the Durham man's arms and legs flaying everywhere. Finally, the leap. Ponting hates that leap because he knows what is coming next. He presses half forward, but the ball is just short of a length, so he takes a step back. But the ball is heading for his nose. He tries to get out of the way - but fails. Then he feels the agony as the ball presses his right thumb onto the handle of his bat. He squeals in pain as the ball flies high into the off-side. "Catch it!" goes up the cry.

At gully, a Swann is in full flight. Leaping high to his left, he clutches at the ball: but in the tension of the situation, he grasps too greedily, and is only able to parry the ball into the air. But Alastair Cook at the third slip is alive to the situation, and he takes an easy catch. Ricky Ponting realises his fate and walks sadly back to the pavilion, his hand still wringing.

---

Back in the field, now. 5:20 pm. Australia have just about scrabbled past the England total with a scrappy fifty from Michael Hussey, but now in the final evening, England are chasing a modest target of 36 to win the match. But Australia have, at least, made in-roads into the England innings, with Hilfenhaus sending Cook and Bopara back to the pavilion in the first over. But now, Pietersen is making short work of the remaining runs, and England just need three runs to win.

As Ricky stands at slip, Nathan Hauritz stands at the end of his mark, tossing off-spinners to himself. How Ricky wished he had access to Shane Warne; he was a great leg-spinner, and even if did have a problem with flatulence, he was great to have round the dressing room. As Hauritz trotted in, Ricky realises he is day-dreaming and tries to focus. He stares hard at the disco-lights attached by Pietersen to the back of his bat, which caused so much controversy during his first innings 158.

Hauritz floats the ball up. As he does so, Pietersen brings his right leg round into the stance of a left-hander. But this is no switch-hit: it is something new. He reaches forth to play a reverse shovel-sweep, and lifts the ball over Ricky's head at slip. Ricky sees the Duke emblem on the ball as it flies past his nose, but he is too slow. The ball has flown past him and the crowd cheer as it goes over the rope for the final time. England have won by eight wickets.

---

6:30 now, and Ricky is in the post-match press conference.

"Hard luck Ricky. But where did you think Australia lost it?" asks Jonathan Agnew.

"Well firstly, I would like to congratulate England on their performance. After an aberration in Cardiff, it is now obvious that they are better than us."

"Do you think you will make any changes in personnel for the Third Test Match?" presses Agnew.

"I will keep pestering Warne to come out of retirement, but it's a long shot. He is being paid a lot of money by Sky."

---

It is now 11:45, and apart from Brett Lee's snoring, all is quiet in Ricky's dormitory.

He is just drifting off to sleep, when he hears a muffled but tinny rendition of Waltzing Matilda coming from beneath his pillow. His 'phone is ringing. Dreading another late night rollicking from Kevin Rudd, he answers.

"Who is this?"

"Sorry to disturb you Ricky, it's the Australian Embassy. I'm afraid we've got a problem. Mitchell Johnson's been picked up by the police. Apparently he had a few too many tinnies at the Walkabout, saw a Sky Sports poster of Kevin Pietersen on the tube home and just started laying into it. First he started abusing it, then he really lost it and started kicking and punching it. He's really lost it. I don't suppose you could come and pick him up from the police station?"

"OK, I'm on my way."

He lies back on his pillow, closes his eyes and thinks of Tasmania.

Old friends

As the clean sun plays down on the captains, Ricky Ponting calls wrongly, and Andrew Strauss decides to bat. The captains announce the following teams:

England: Strauss (*), Cook, Bopara, Pietersen, Collingwood, Prior (+), Flintoff, Broad, Swann, Anderson, Panesar

Australia: Hughes, Katich, Ponting (*), Hussey, Clarke, North, Haddin (+), Warne, Johnson, Siddle, Clark

Asked about the inclusion of a certain SK Warne, Strauss shrugs his shoulders and just says "Oh, we found out this was coming last month. We've been practising against Merlin all morning. That whole business about the Sky commentating contract was a cover set up by Rupert Murdoch. Murdoch is, after all, Australian."

"How did you know?" asks Nasser Hussain, who is conducting the interview for Sky.

"Well, Murdoch's got an Australian accent."

"Actually Andrew I was wondering how you knew Warne was making a comeback."

"I can't tell you that without endangering the lives of British operatives working overseas."

In any event, a few moments later the England skipper is facing up to a steamed up Mitchell Johnson. With his partner in crime Peter Siddle, Johnson makes early incisions into the England batting line up, and by 11:30, England seem to be in a precarious position at 30-2, with Ravi Bopara and Kevin Pietersen at the crease. And in that unhappy circumstance, what worse sight could there be but to see Shane Warne mark out his run up? But at 12:00, the bleach-blonde tells Ponting he is "knackered", and goes off to put his feet up. The England men hold firm until lunch; as Andrew Flintoff helps himself to a second helping of bangers and mash, England are on 88 -2. The afternoon session sees more runs to the increasingly bold England batsmen, but thirty minutes into the session, Bopara prods forward to an away swinger from Johnson and is caught by Ponting at slip. It is Paul Collingwood's turn to bat.

But it is not the Durham carrot-top who walks out. Instead, the crowd cheer as they see a familiar lope to the crease. The commentators are confused. As he reaches the crease, the tall batsman chirps "Afternoon boys" with a suggestion of a Yorkshire accent in his tone. But Ricky Ponting is in no mood to exchange pleasantries.

"What the hell are you doing out here? Paul Collingwood's name was on the teamsheet Andrew Strauss gave me this morning."

"Yes, that's me."

"No it's not. You're not Paul Collingwood, you're Michael Vaughan."

"You probably remember me as Michael Vaughan, but I changed my name to 'Paul Collingwood' by deed poll last week. Andy Flower and I hit upon the name change thing as a way of giving you guys a surprise. I just couldn't resist one last test match. Aren't you pleased to see me again after all this time?" asks the former England skipper.

"Michael, you can't..."

"My name's not Michael."

"Sorry, Paul, you can't do this. You retired last week."

"Like Shane Warne retired last year, you mean?"

After an ECB statement explaining the situation, the TMS pressbox decide that to avoid confusion with the batsman more usually known as Paul Collingwood, he should be known as "The Batsman Formerly Known As Vaughan", or "TBFKA Vaughan" forthwith. In any case, he and Pietersen prosper against increasingly rattled Australian bowling, and England close the day on 355-3 (Pietersen 135*, TBFKA Vaughan 106*). A good day's work.

The second day is, unfortunately, lost to rain.

The third day is met with more promising weather, but the Australians are unsettled. They have only arrived ten minutes before play, as the team bus from the Youth Hostel was delayed by a flock of Herdwicks standing in the road just outside Cardiff. As the sun rebounds off the dewy outfield in the lead up towards the start of play, there is another surprise for the Australians: in a highly aggressive move, England have declared on their overnight total.

Once again, the Australians are rattled, and it is not long before Phillip Hughes skies a Stuart Broad bouncer into the waiting hands of Monty Panesar. The ball spills out as he trips over his shoe-laces, but it somehow remains lodged in his trousers, and the batsman is given out. 13-1 becomes 15-2 as in the next over, Ricky Ponting edges Jimmy Anderson to Flintoff at second slip. So it goes on, and at lunch, the Australians are on 66-6. Could they miss the follow on? Surely not.

As the afternoon session opens up, Anderson continues to attack the Australian batting, now represented by Haddin and Siddle. But Siddle shows the Australian top order how it should be done, and Anderson tires. Strauss gestures for Graeme Swann to join Panesar in the bowling line up, and the rewards are immediate. No wicket falls, but Swann's second ball bites and turns to strike an agonised Haddin in what may be delicately described as the "nether regions". It becomes clear the Australian neglected to put his box back on when he came back out after lunch. Whoops, Bradley.

The Australian wicket-keeper bravely soldiers on, but unwilling to make the same mistake twice, he plays at a Panesar delivery that should properly have been left. Strauss makes a difficult catch at slip look easy. Haddin's dismissal unlocks the door to the Australian lower order; they have no answer against the clever spin of Panesar and Swann on a crumbling pitch, and they are finally dismissed for a very poor 123. Strauss decides to enforce the follow on.

Second time round, the Australian batting is a little more robust. Hughes and Simon Katich bat well to score 119 for the first wicket, but Broad again dismisses Hughes, and in the following over, Panesar's arm-ball sinks Ricky Ponting. By the close of play, the Australians are precariously positioned at 136 for 2. England need another eight wickets; their counterparts need another 96 runs, but that's just to make the Englishmen bat again.

The fourth day is, unfortunately, lost to rain.

Happily, the fifth day is bathed in a beautiful, golden, sunshine of a type which almost seems to thank the England spin bowlers for their treasured performances. For Strauss decides to open up with Swann and Panesar, and they do not take long to inflict further wounds into the Australians. Bounding in like a high jumper, Panesar is able to extract turn and bounce from the wearing Cardiff track, and even if his tricks are not enough to remove Katich, the psychological effect surely is. For he charges Panesar, misses altogether and Matt Prior removes the bails. Clarke edges the very next ball to Strauss at slip, and Marcus North is forced to defend the hat-trick ball. He just about manages that, but the next over sees him sky Swann to TBFKA Vaughan. However, just as it is looking like England will win by lunchtime, Haddin and Hussey dig in. They chip away at the deficit, and finally, the Australians are sitting fairer at 198-4 at lunch.

For the first hour after lunch, the Australians proceed without alarm. Panesar and Swann are bowling well, but they just can't find the magic ball. In desperation, Strauss turns to TBFKA Vaughan: "Paul, you were a brilliant captain in the 2005 Ashes. Now I want to become a captaincy master. Graeme Swann and Monty Panesar can't make the vital breakthrough. What must I do?"

The Yorkshireman breathes deeply through his nose and closes his eyes, crunching the lines on his forehead, and flinching his little ears. In a throaty voice, he just says "Patient you must be".

Strauss walks away in awe, and decides to keep the spinners going. And finally, Swann strikes: Hussey is half-forward to an arm-ball, the ball strikes his pad with a deathly thud, and the umpire's finger is inevitable. And Johnson follows soon later, advancing down the pitch to a Swann off-break, running right past it and seeing his stumps dismembered by the England 'keeper. Wicket after wicket follows, until finally, Australia are all out for 255.

24 to win? No problem, sir. Andrew Strauss decides to promote TBFKA Vaughan in to open the batting, as it is his final test match. With the score placed on 22 for 0, Warne hops in to bowl at the former England captain. The round Australian floats up a flighted leg-break. But it is a foot or so too full. TBFKA Vaughan presses half-forward for a moment. He narrows his eyes as he focuses. He hovers momentarily before fully committing his body weight forward. As the ball lands, the centre of his soft, wooden, blade collects the ball and catapults it through the covers. Ponting at extra cover is just too slow, and dives over the ball. Johnson sprints round from the cover boundary to try to cut it off, diving forward to intercept cricketing destiny. He just reaches the ball with his fingertips, but inevitably, his effort is not enough. The ball trickles to the boundary and the match is won.

As the batsmen meander back to the pavilion, against the red sun setting down to rest over the pavilion, the Welsh crowd rise in unison to salute a departing warrior. They say nothing, but the message is clear: thank you, Paul, for being one of the greatest batsmen of your age, and one of the greatest test captains ever.