Brotherly love?

People who do not enjoy Test Match cricket often do not understand that cricket is a metaphor for life itself. On the other hand, cricket lovers are blessed with an appreciation that the question of a whether good will ultimately score more runs than evil is a question of philosophy as deep as that ultimate question - what is the meaning of life?

It's a sunny day at Trent Bridge, as Salman Butt calls correctly, and decides that Pakistan should bat first. He hopes that Danish Kaneria will be able to obtain turn and bounce in the final innings. But it isn't long before he regrets his haste to bat, as Stuart Broad gets one to lift past his nose. He manages to get his gloves out of the way and survives, but at the other end, Imran Farhat is less lucky, nicking James Anderson into the gloves of the waiting Matt Prior. But Azhar Ali shows why he is highly regarded with some attractive strokeplay. Despite all that, it's a quiet first session, and Pakistan are reasonably well placed on 78-1 at lunch.

The clouds close in during the lunchbreak, however, and when they take the field after a round of sandwiches, England's bowlers get much more assistance from the conditions. Salman Butt is the first to perish; he chops on an in-dipper from Steven Finn. The next over sees Azhar Ali dismissed by Broad: away swinger, pitched up, prod forward, indecisive foot movement, click of ball against edge, deviation to first slip, diving Graeme Swann, jubilant Broad. Umar Amin follows the following over, and two overs later Shoaib Malik is dismissed by a catch from a leaping Collingwood that rolls back the years.

However, the Akmal brothers aren't known as the most annoying cricketing brothers since Mike and David Hussey for no reason, and using a series of fresh air drives and niggles to the leg side, Kamran and Umar Akmal are able to keep out the England bowlers. Tea comes, tea goes. Eventually, at close of play, the two little men have restored parity to the game with the score at 248-5 (Umar Akmal 78*, Kamran Akmal 78*).

The second morning is overcast and there is much talk about how England's bowlers will take advantage of the swing available. But the Akmal brothers adopt the Steve and Mark Waugh model to lose their wickets. After adding just three to his overnight score, Umar goes for what the Sky Sports commentators call a "suicidal single". Unhappily, Kamran does not respond, and the brothers are left facing each other at the non-striker's end. There ensues a bitter argument between the two of them about which of them is out, and eventually umpire Simon Taufel has to mediate by flipping a coin. Kamran is the unlucky man. With an inter-Akmal argument going on in the dressing room, the Pakistani lower order is able to offer scant further resistance and England are able to dismiss the Pakistanis for 298 (Akmal 81, Akmal 81).

Happily for them, the Pakistani bowlers bowl splendidly, and for some time there is real doubt about whether England can even achieve the follow-on total of 98. Mohammad Aamer bowls with pace and hostility, and is able to make batsmen of the calibre of Andrew Strauss and Kevin Pietersen look slightly foolish. England's lowest ebb is at 35-5, whereupon Matt Prior joins Eoin Morgan at the crease. Prior approaches Morgan mid-pitch.

"So remind me, how do you spell your first name again?" asks the Sussex 'keeper.

"Maiden mhaith. Breathnu ar an scorchlar." replies the diminutive Irishman.

Morgan and Prior bat beautifully together. There is initially a little confusion in the running between the wickets, when Morgan calls "Fanacht" and Prior does not understand, but that is soon resolved and they run as one. Sometimes, cricket transcends international boundaries.

Anyway, both score hundreds, and although Prior is out trying just before close of play trying to hit Danish Kaneria into the River Trent for a second time, it's England who are in charge on 303-6 (Prior 124, Morgan 118*).

Three is said to be the magic number, and the third day's play at Trent Bridge is indeed splendid. First, we should applaud the brave and innovative batting from England in the morning. Congratulations in particular to Northamptonshire born spinner Graeme Swann, on his first test match hundred, scored off 72 balls. With three overs to go before lunch, England finally declare on 478 for 8, some 180 runs ahead.

Salman and Imran survive those first three overs, but both fall in the first over after lunch from Stuart Broad. Umar Amin is able to put up good resistance with Azhar Ali, and by tea time they are both playing with a flair reminiscent of Javed Miandad. After tea, Ali is undone by a clever slower ball from Paul Collingwood which flies to Morgan at point, and Amin is bowled through the gate next over from Swann. When Shoaib Malik nicks the ball on to his pad and the ball flies to substitute fielder Rob Newton, it seems that Pakistan's only hope of cricketing salvation lies once again with the brothers Akmal. Remarkably, there is a run-out action replay: this time, Kamran calls Umar for a quick single and Umar is beaten by a smart throw from Collingwood. Conspiracy, fate or just coincidence? You decide. Anyway, Pakistan are six wickets down, and just six ahead, when the sun goes down on Saturday night.

What makes Pakistan bat so well on Sunday morning? It may be that they were given a heavy team talk by their coach Waqar Younis, or it may be that they are inspired by their former teammate Shahid Afridi's maiden performance on Strictly Come Dancing. In any case, they perform splendidly, and whilst they lose wickets occasionally, they are able to score 156 runs in the session. With Danish Kaneria the final man to go on the stroke of lunch, England are set 162 to win.

Mohammad Asif and his floppy hair has little difficulty getting the best out of the pitch, and there is little surprise when he induces Alastair Cook to prod forward, such that he edges the ball to slip. But Strauss and Jonathan Trott are able to guide England to victory. The Pakistani supporters and their vuvuzelas are silenced as England press home their advantage, until finally, at 3.02 on Sunday afternoon, Jonathan Trott caresses a leg break from Kaneria into a gap on the off-side to score the winning runs.

The man of the match award is given to Eoin Morgan for his excellent innings. As he picks up his award, he takes the microphone from Nasser Hussain and says "Go raibh maith agat, Nasser."

Meanwhile, down in South West London, the greatest bowler of all staggers on his toes towards the television set. He looks intrigued as willow thwacks against leather. He turns to his father and smiles. He is only 13 months old. He has no idea what greatness he will achieve; he probably has no idea even what cricket is. But the countdown to the 2030 Ashes series has begun for this little boy.

Raindrops keep falling on my head

"Heads!" cheers Shakib al Hasan as Andrew Strauss tosses the King George VI gold sovereign into the bright Manchester sky. But as Sir Ian Botham peers down toward the coin as sits on the pitch, he sees the rear end of the former monarch looking back at him. It's tails, and Strauss decides he will bat. His joy is nevertheless short-lived, for the first drops of rain fall upon the Old Trafford pitch just a few moments later, whilst Strauss imparts to Ryan Sidebottom the sad news than Ajmal Shahzad has won Tim Bresnan's place in the team. It's not long before the Pennines disappear behind a wall of cloud every bit as black as the New Zealand team's one-day kit, and at 11:15 Billy Bowden and Rudi Koertzen decide to abandon play for the day.

Hoping against home, the teams reconvene the next morning. Unhappily, the previous day's downpour has led to damp patches on the bowlers' run ups. Shakib maintains he doesn't mind because his team don't have any proper quick bowlers anyway, but Umpire Bowden's mind is made up, and play is only able to start at 3:15. In the penultimate over before tea, the Bangladeshis are able to make a breakthrough, as Alistair Cook plays Shahadat Hossain onto his stumps. The forces of boredom are given a boost as Jonathan Trott, bless him, walks out to bat. He and Strauss bat out a wholly uninspiring evening's cricket, with England leaving the field on 126-1.

The third day is, unfortunately, lost to rain.

The fourth day offers a splendid day's cricket. The cricket gods have somehow got the better of meteorological fate. Strauss is inspired by the weather, and tells Trott to retire out, in order that Kevin Pietersen can accelerate the England innings. Pietersen is, however, out first ball to Shakib al Hasan's left arm darters, but Eoin Morgan uses his Gaelic charms to spirit a quick fifty. At the other end, Strauss reaches his hundred in under an hour, England declare on 276-1.

The England bowlers come out firing. Shahzad is a bowling sensation, achieving pace and bounce on his Test Match debut. Even Tamim Iqbal, who in 2013 will surpass Brian Lara's record 400" in a magnificent innings at the Gabba, is unable to keep the Yorkshire quick out. At lunch, things look ugly for the Bangladeshis at 35 for 5. The ground clouds over after lunch, and batting becomes impossible for the Tigers. They are eventually bundled out for a miserable 69. Surely, Strauss will enforce the follow-on?

Indeed. But this time, the Bangladesh batting line up perform much more successfully. Although Tamim is out first ball, Junaid Siddique and Imrul Kayes bat sensibly to defy England until tea. 56-1. Although Siddique is trapped in front by one of Trott's little dobbers, Mohammed Ashraful defies the commentators who have said he is a Flash Harry, by producing an innings of calm certainty. However, with Kayes have dropped anchor as well, the Bangladeshis are unable to make significant progress againsst the first innings deficit. And at close of play on the fourth day, Bangladesh are still 144 runs bebind.

There is much speculation amongst the commentators about whether England have the firepower to bowl out the Tigers once more. Unfortunately, we will never know, as the fifth and final day is lost to rain. The match is drawn. Captain Strauss graciously collects the delightful Habibul Bashar Trophy, which is awarded to the winner of each series between England and Bangladesh.

But back in London there are dark moves afoot to prevent this type of rain-soaked debacle in the future. In a back office in Whitehall, new Minister for Sport Hugh Robertson smiles, as he puts the finishing touches to the Cricket (Prevention of Rain Delays) Act 2010, which will ban any future Test Matches from being staged at any venue north of Edgbaston.

Crime never pays

Tamim Iqbal: what a splendid player he is. After Shakib al Hasan calls correctly, he opens up against lanky England paceman Steven Finn. Finn gets one to rise outside off-stump, and Tamim effortlessly guides the ball into the crowds behind third man Eoin Morgan. This is the foretaste of an innings of innocent magnificent from Tamim, and he is richly applauded as he reaches his century on the last ball before lunch. 167-1.

His stay after lunch is short-lived, though, as Graeme Swann is able to trap him in front of middle, as he attempts a reverse scoop-sweep. The procession of batsman following his dismissal is reminiscent King George VI's funeral, as Bangladeshi after Bangladeshi plays inadequate shots against aggressive bowling from the England seamers. By teatime, 167-1 has morphed to 219-7.

But at tea time, something happens that will change the course of cricketing history. In the Lords Room, the England players applaud, as unveiled is a beautiful portrait of Mike Gatting helping himself to some Victoria Sponge. But it is not that which is important: back in the changing rooms is mischief is undertaken. Mohammed Ashraful has smuggled in some special chilli powder, and empties the entire pot into the pasta bake eaten by the England bowlers. Within seconds of tucking into their fodder, the fast bowling thoroughbreds are reduced to tears. Even Tim Bresnan, with his big tummy, is unable to resume the field of play.

After Bangladesh coach Jamie Siddons admits he was behind the prank, Rule 168.27 of the Laws of Cricket is instigated. Keen followers of cricket will know this reads:

"If any player knowingly interferes with the gastrointestinal tract of an opposition player then he shall be guilty of an offence, and five penalty runs shall be awarded to the opposition team."

This has the interesting effect that England start their innings before the conclusion of the Bangladeshi innings. But the joy of that paradox, and indeed the award of five runs, is scant reward for an England team denied its premier bowlers. After trying Ravi Bopara, Ian Bell, Kevin Pietersen and Alistair Cook, Andrew Strauss turns to Morgan in desperation. Morgan admits he hasn't bowled before, but says he will have a go. He limbers up, with a fluid motion, and releases the ball with a mild tweak. The ball grips on the pitch and catches the edge of Ashraful's bat. The ball leaps to silly point, and England are on their way again. In the next over, Bopara finishes off the Bangladesh innings, at 267. England amass 43-1 before the day is closed by bad light. Andrew Strauss is outwitted by Rubel Hussain, despite the Bangladeshi's increasing irritation at being called "Barney" by his teammates.

Friday is, unfortunately, lost to rain.

Saturday is, however, splendid. Under the brilliant sunlight, the Tigers' bowlers struggle to maintain a consistent line and length, and Ian Bell milks boundary after boundary. Try as they might, the Bangladeshis are unable to contain him. The cameras zoom into his face, and Sky lip-readers observe him repeatedly saying "I may have ginger hair, but if I work on my game I can be at least as good as Ricky Ponting". It later transpires that this is part of his new hypnotic treatment to improve his confidence. Anyway, it works: by teatime he has guided England pass Bangladesh's score, to 302-2.

They say that a child born on the Sabbath Day is bonny and blithe and good and gay. But there is nothing of that nature in Sunday's play at Lords. What a miserable day of play it is, as Abdur Razzak continuously fires the ball from outside the leg-stump into the England batsmen's pads. Most of the England batsmen play safe, and it is only Kevin Pietersen who can find a way to combat the tactic, with his innovative reverse cover drive. But England grind their way to a sizable first innings lead: they eventually declare exactly 300 runs ahead of Bangladesh on 567-7, just after tea. An early close is caused by more bad light without Bangladesh losing any wickets.

So, it's the final day. Monday morning. Can England take the ten wickets needed to win victory at headquarters? How will the England bowlers claim their revenge against Ashraful's dastardly behaviour? Will David Cameron visit Lords? How many wickets will Eoin Morgan take, with his newly developed left-arm spinners?

So many questions.

So few answers.

NWS - An Apology

It will not have evaded any of Next Week's Scoreboard's esteemed readership that this website did not cover the England Tour of Bangladesh, which took place earlier this year.

This post intends to both apologise for and explain the omission.

NWS is aware that this omission will have upset - perhaps even unbalanced - its readers. It is also aware just how many people rely on this website in order to plan their televisual viewing. With all that in mind, NWS is truly sorry for not previewing the two test matches in question. It will not happen again (well, certainly not until the next time, anyway).

The national press has tried to explain why this happened. Michael Atherton in the The Times thought it was a protest against Bangladesh holding Test Match status, whilst The Telegraph interpreted NWS' silence as a statement that a prediction of a Test Match involving Bangladesh was unnecessary. On the airwaves, Jonathan Agnew on TMS thought it could have been because the writer of NWS had moved house and didn't have access to a computer, whilst Nasser Hussain on Sky said it was because he was admitted to hospital for a hernia repair. The on-screen graphics demonstrating the operation looked painful.

Whilst there is some truth in all four of these explanations, a far more serious concern was at the heart of NWS's failure to publish. NWS has always been aware of its responsibility not to disturb the space-time continuum by letting the players know in advance what is going to happen in the matches in which they play.

But now, a new peril has become known to NWS. It transpires that illegal bookmakers have been relying on the accuracy and clarity of NWS' predictions to make huge sums of money. This was discovered after William Hill reported irregular betting patterns to NWS, following the conclusion of the South Africa tour. Happily, close cooperation between NWS, the ECB and the Indian Police led to the successful conviction last week of the ringleader of an illegal betting circle in Mumbai.

(Naturally, NWS couldn't publish this apology any earlier, as that could have prejudiced the court case.)

Anyway, now the villains are behind bars, roll on the Bangladesh Tour of England, 2010.

Changes

"Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself" - Leo Tolstoy, Russian novelist and mystic (1828-1910)

"'Underprepared' is how I would describe this pitch," comments Sir Ian Botham, explaining to the already tortured Sky viewers just how difficult it will be to bat on a green Johannesburg track, "and any captain worth his salt will want to bowl first on this. He'll be asking his bowlers to aim at this area, just short of a length, where you can see a bloom of mushrooms has grown under the plastic covers."

Well, Graeme Smith is worth his salt as captain, and when Andrew Strauss calls incorrectly, he does indeed insert England. Smith sneers as Strauss looks him in the eye, thanks him and adds that he is looking forward to a good match. Smith goes back to his dressing room and tells Morne Morkel and Dale Steyn that he wants to hear Alastair Cook squeal with pain.

Smith's plan bears fruit very quickly. Strauss and Cook defend as well as they can, but debutant Wayne Parnell rattles Strauss' stumps with a ball that holds its off-stump line. Well done that lad: Wasim Akram would have been proud of that ball.

Cook follows the next over to a good one from Steyn, and Kevin Pietersen is brought to the crease. As he plays and misses his first three balls, he is left to reflect that the angry mob of young men who tormented his walk through the tunnel to the crease could just as easily be a metaphor for the demons running around his head.

"Out here, we either fight or we die" says fellow batsman Jonathan Trott. Pietersen pauses a moment, and then stops shaking. He walks back to his mark to face Steyn once more. The ball is on a length just outside on off-stump; the audience pause to see if he will play or leave. But a moment later they gasp, as he gets down on one knee, and sweeps the ball for six, in the style of England one day great Malachy Loye. As the ball flies through the thin air, the anxiety is almost visibly seen to leave Pietersen, like a cloud passing from a granite Welsh hilltop. By lunch, England are on 147-2 (Pietersen 85*, Trott 32*). Smith berates his bowlers.

Although Pietersen falls soon after lunch for an entertaining 109, his innings has by itself directed the flow of the match, and by close of play, England are looking in good shape on 347-5 (Trott Pietersen 109, Trott 128, Parnell 3-48).

On the second day, the ground is abuzz with speculation, following Paul Collingwood's inflammatory comments in The Johannesburg Telegraph that he is planning to "set his stall out" and bat out for the remaining four days for a draw. The South Africans are rattled, and the Sky cameras spy heated exchanges between Smith and Mickey Arthur before play. In any event, the conclusion of Smith and Arthur's "discussion" is that the England batsmen will be surrounded by close fieldsmen. This aggressive field placings enable overnight batsmen Collingwood and Matthew Prior to get off to a flyer, scoring 74 off the first ten overs, before Collingwood eventually starts giggling and admits the whole story about batting out the match was just a wind-up. Normal field settings then resume, but England have the initiative. They press on through the day, with Stuart Broad clouting a quickfire 72. England declare on 646 for 8, with ten overs of the day remaining.

Back in the Proteas' dressing room, Smith is furious with his bowlers. But he looks slightly foolish a few moments later, when he is trapped in front by a splendid ball from Graham Onions, that dips into the South African captain's pads at the last moment. Hashim Amla cannot do anything with the next ball, which pitches on middle and leg before swinging late to glide past his defensive shot onto his off-stump. Jacques Kallis keeps out the hat-trick ball though, and the South Africans are on 32-2 at the close of play. Back in the dressing room, Kallis jokes with Smith that even if Collingwood won't bat out the match, Kallis might; Smith guffaws, before pausing a moment to check that Kallis is actually joking.

By day 3, the sun and the wind have combined to relax the pitch at the Bull Ring, and the local South African crowd are treated to some excellent cricket. England bowl well, with Graeme Swann intelligently exploiting Parnell's foot-holes; but the South Africans bat better, and in the course of the day, England are only able to take four wickets. The accuracy of England's bowlers enable them to restrict the scoring, however, and whilst Jacques Kallis does score 124, he does take almost the entire day in doing so. It's not quite clear which team this benefits, but South Africa look safe at 378-6 (Kallis 124, Prince 99). The more significant question seems to be whether they can put England under any degree of pressure in the remaining two days.

Day 4 also seems some interesting cricket. The South African lower order bats with enterprise, and it's not long before the surpass the follow-on target 447. Since by that stage, South Africa are nine wickets down, there seems little point in continuing and Smith declares. So: England are 199 runs ahead, with five and a half sessions to play. South African hopes of victory are soon raised, as Strauss and Cook again fail: surely Collingwood won't be required to play another long one? Well, not immediately anyway, as Trott and Pietersen once again play enduring innings. This is a different sort of an innings from Pietersen though - it is clear he wants to grind the South Africans down. Likewise, nothing seems to break Trott's concentration. Even when tempers flare between Pietersen and Ashwell Prince (following some unsavoury "sledging" from Prince about Pietersen's golden retriever), Trott gazes calmly into the mid-distance, with that Mona Lisa half-smile so reminiscent of Duncan Fletcher. Trott is finally dismissed for 99, but following a rare Collingwood failure Ian Bell accompanies Pietersen to the close.

The final day is a miserable one for the South Africans. England finally declare an hour before tea, setting the South Africans exactly 500 to win in exactly 50 overs. James Anderson sees that Smith completes his pair, before the game is declared a draw as a thunderstorm rolls in. Smith wonders if the reaction by The Johannesburg Telegraph to the series defeat will also be thunderous.

Smith smiles politely at the presentation ceremony, but somewhere inside, he is suddenly struck by sadness. He realises he's been a fool for the previous seven years. Yes, he'd been trying to improve his team; perhaps even to inspire the Rainbow Nation as a whole in some way. But where has is left him? An embittered man, playing bitter and ill-spirited cricket. Was this it? He suddenly realised that despite all that history: the early years with the Pollock brothers, international isolation, re-emergence, and the Hansie Cronje affair, no lessons had been learned. But there it was, before him: the Basil D'Oliveira Trophy. The name said it all. Suddenly, Smith understood why people played cricket, and resolved to make a change.

G11

As the weather section in The Cape Town Sun will tell you, it's difficult to predict the weather down South. The clouds can roll down Table Mountain and envelop the ground in a matter of minutes. So, whilst the downpour forty-five minutes before play was due to begin was unpredicted, it might be misleading to say it was unexpected. In any case, the toss is delayed as both captains re-assess their team options.

But at 3.45 pm, Graeme Smith is able to lob his Rand coin high in the air at the toss. Andrew Strauss calls heads; but the coin lands tails up, and Smith is forced to choose. He elects to bat - a decision he will come to regret. Then, both captains explain their selection decisions; Strauss explains that England have been forced into a difficult selection: Graeme Smith is still piqued at the revelation in The Cape Town Sun that Paul Collingwood actually injured his finger sabotaging the South African team bus - not in a team warm-up as claimed - so he has refused to let England use the Newlands outfield to allow Collingwood to demonstrate his fitness. So Strauss and Andy Flower have decided to play safe and leave him out. Luke Wright is the beneficiary of Collingwood's misery. On the Protean side, there is an outbreak of common sense as Makhaya Ntini makes way for Friedel de Wet.

In the very first over, Smith is poleaxed by an Anderson in-swinger, so reminiscent of Matthew Hoggard's pearler years before. The resulting lbw decision is the first of a cluster of wickets which fall on the first day: Anderson takes three, and Luke Wright claims two of his own as South Africa slump to a hapless 108-7 at the close of play. The bellwether of the South African batting line-up, Jacques Kallis, top edges a wide long-hop from Luke Wright to Matthew Prior. Coach Andy Flower notes that Wright has a knack of taking wickets with bad balls. He can't think of who last did that on a regular basis, but he is sure there was somebody.

The second day crowd is treated to more clement weather. The crowd is dominated by a tired Barmy Army. The South African tail puts up good resistance to the England fast bowling attack, and eventually the Proteas are dismissed for 185. Well under par, but as they had been 96-7, they couldn't really grumble. Well, actually Graeme Smith does grumble, but even by his own standards he looks churlish in doing so.

Alastair Cook and Strauss make a steady start against Dale Steyn and Morne Morkel. England are well placed at 51-0, when Strauss edges de Wet to AB de Villiers at second slip, ten minutes before lunch. Unfortunately for Jonathan Trott, just a few moments prior to the dismissal, nature had called - a problem which will dog him throughout his long England career. As Trott sits helplessly behind a door marked "Engaged", Ian Bell gratefully walks to bat at three. Despite Jacques Kallis' unnecessary jibes that he resembles Jimmy Krankie, Bell makes it through to lunch with his wicket undisturbed.

Sadly for England, a succession of wickets fall in the afternoon and at tea, England look ill-positioned at 145-4. A succession of batsmen play outside the wrong line to balls from Paul Harris, on the incorrect assumption that he is a spin bowler. In fact, he is later forced to admit he's just a slow bowler, but by then it's too late for Messrs Cook, Trott and Pietersen. Never mind: the evening session brings an England recovery the stewardship of three lions, Ian Bell, Matthew Prior and Stuart Broad. There is, however, further excitement at the end of the second day: Broad's off-stump is removed by a Steyn yorker. This brings debutant Wright to the crease. His first ball is a half-volley outside off-stump; he is unsure how to respond. England are in a tight position and he has been told by Andy Flower to look after his wicket, but the temptation is just to great and he cannot resist climbing into it. The ball is last seen soaring like a bird over mid-off, in a lager-fuelled and lobster-tanned member of the Barmy Army singing in the stands. A little surprised, Flower tries to think bat to the last time an England player hit his first ball for six. Again, he can't quite place it.

Worryingly, Wright is missing from the Team England breakfast meeting prior to the third day. Andy Flower is worried he may have been kidnapped by the South African Cricket Association, but he need not have worried. With twenty minutes to go before play, Flower is finalising his press release explaining Wright's absence, but he looks up to see the Sussex all-rounder walking towards the Newlands from the direction of the nearby Castle Brewery factory. There seems to be a hint of blusher to Wright's cheeks, but as he is otherwise ready for play, nobody stops him from continuing his innings.

Wright furiously assaults the South African bowling. There is an unusual moment after twenty minutes: on 38, Wright takes an enormous heave at Morkel, falls over and is bowled. But with a silly grin on his face, he calls for his dismissal to be referred to the third umpire. As one, every member of the Barmy Army in the crowd put their respective heads into their respective hands, appalled at the absurdity of Wright's decision to raise a challenge his dismissal with his off-stump smashed into three pieces. But on the England balcony, Andy Flower sucks on his pencil, with a thoughtful look on his face. And then it is the South Africans turn to despair: the replays show that Morkel has bowled yet another no ball which was not spotted by the onfield umpire, and Wright has earned an unexpected reprieve as a result of the referral to the third umpire. Flower gestures over the England physio and asks for a blood sample to be taken from Wright during the lunch break. When he is finally dismissed by JP Duminy's off spin, he has taken 102 off just 45 balls from the South African bowlers. England are eventually dismissed an hour after lunch, having scored 325. Ian Bell is undefeated on 115.

Anderson takes the new ball for England. With Smith's first innings dismissal in his mind, the Lancashire quickie decides to bowl an in-swinger. Smith is of a like mind though, and plays inside the line of the ball, in an expectation that it will curve in. But at the last minute, the ball is caught by a gust of wind and swerve away in the direction of the slips. The ball slides past Smith's outside edge and catches his off-stump. Anderson tells his team-mates that he planned the "straight-onner" all along. The next over, Hashim Amla is caught on his crease by a ball that jags in from Stuart Broad. Dejectedly, he walks back to the pavilion, out lbw. But Jacques Kallis and Ashwell Prince guide the South Africans to tea without further alarm. After tea, the only further wicket for England falls to Graeme Swann, who embarrasses Prince with one that turns and bounces. At close of play on the third day, South Africa are 145-3 (Kallis 56*, de Villiers 56*).

On the fourth day, Anderson is forced to announce in the team meeting that he will not be able to take the field, due to a sore back - to much sniggering from Graeme Swann. Against that background, Broad opens up with Graham Onions. But it's not the bowlers who break through first: it is fielding wizard Michael Carberry, prowling around the covers as substitute for Anderson, who runs out de Villiers in the fourth over of play. Zoom lenses trained on the South African balcony catch Mickey Arthur angrily muttering something in Afrikaans to Graeme Smith: a lip reader brought in by the Sky Sports team claims that Arthur was moaning that Carberry was brought in by England purely as a specialist substitute fielder. Arthur later denies he said anything of the sort.

Whatever, de Villiers' dismissal is the start of trouble for the South Africans. Duminy falls in the next over to Broad, who has now found a consistent line and length, and Onions sends Boucher on his way with a vicious bouncer the following over. There is limited resistance from Morkel, who clouts 16 from an experimental over from Kevin Pietersen, but Luke Wright is able to break the deadlock a few overs later. He bowls a wide half-volley, which Morkel clatters to Ian Bell at cover. In the closing moments of the South African innings, Jacques Kallis finds himself batting with Dale Steyn. From the balcony, Smith urges Kallis to farm the strike and increase his run-rate. But Kallis refuses to move out of his comfort zone: he consistently passes the strike to Steyn, who manfully tries to keep out some big spinners from Swann, whilst quietly building his total at his own pace. "I'm alright, Jacques", scripts the headline writer for The Cape Town Sun. When Steyn finally succumbs to a slower one from Wright, South Africa are but 64 runs ahead. This is a total which Strauss and Cook knock off with aplomb.

Following the conclusion of the match, Andy Flower calls a press conference, amid great excitement. News of Luke Wright's blood tests has been leaked on Twitter, and the hacks at The Cape Town Sun are excitedly awaiting details of Wright's alcohol levels. In front of flashing bulbs and fluffy microphones, Flower reads out the following statement:

"There has been widespread speculation regarding England all-rounder Luke Wright. Following his bold and inspiring performance during the Third Test Match, the England management decided to carry out blood tests. Luke has co-operated at all times with these tests.

Independent scientists have carried out a detailed study of Luke's blood, and have come to two conclusions. Firstly, the results of the tests show that his DNA is almost identical to a number of former England all-rounders. Secondly, it is clear that he has two hearts. Following receipt of these results, the England management have carried out follow-up interviews with Luke and his immediate family about his emergence as an international all-rounder.

On the basis of these results, we have concluded that Luke is the eleventh regeneration of Sir Ian Botham, taking over from Andrew Flintoff and a number of his predecessors, to do battle throughout the history of time with all that is bad in Test Match cricket. And what better place to start than with Graeme Smith and his team?

On behalf of everyone involved with England cricket, I would wish Luke a long and happy career, particularly as we are given to understand that Sir Ian can only regenerate on a maximum of twelve occasions."

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?