"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.
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