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North hits his straps, Hughes withers under the short ball

It's a somewhat futile exercise micro-analysing the Australians' form in a single tour game, as if the destiny of the Ashes depends on a single innings. However, as the 1st Test doesn't start until for another 3 days, well, I've got nothing better to do. So what does Australia's tour game with the England lions tell us?

The good news is our two main form concerns, Mike Hussey and Marcus North, have found good form. In particular, North scored a mammoth 191 not out in the second digs - his last innings before the Test series. I can testify that nothing boosts confidence like a long innings out in the middle. Frankly, this innings is a relief. Australia had no #6 backup so North is all we've got.

Similarly, Mitchell Johnson came good in the dying sessions of the game taking several wickets while Brett Lee continues to show good bowling form. And perversely, I'm happy to see Nathan Hauritz put in a poor performance. I'm usually the first to bang the drum for spinners but Hauritz just doesn't cut it at Test level. It's hard to see him making more contribution than Lee, Siddle or Clark. Four quicks for Cardiff, I say.

Lastly, the one concern coming from the tour game was Phil Hughes' vulnerability to the short ball. The English bowling attack will be licking their lips at the prospect of a short ball barrage. However, I think Hughes will be okay - better to expose this weakness now and have a few days to work on it in the nets than in heat of Ashes battle. I'm eagerly anticipating the opening overs of the 1st Test, particularly if Australia bats. Could be another classic Ashes confrontation like Harmison pummelling the Aussie batsmen at Lords in 2005.

Aloof Theory Part 8: MIA

I had to drive several hours out of town on the day of this week's game. I optimistically calculated I could be back roughly in time, perhaps just missing the start. A little too optimistic. By the time I finally arrived at the isolated cricket field in the middle of nowhere, the game had been going for nearly 2 hours!

The batting side were looking pretty dejected. They looked up hopefully when I arrived. "Are you playing with us?" they asked. I inform them I'm with the fielding side. "Great, as if you guys didn't have enough!" It turns out the opposition only had 8 players turn up. I quickly consulted the scorebook to find they're 4 down with only 60 runs on the board. Hmm, we're doing okay. Effectively 5 down as their opening bat from last week failed to turn up. With our team languishing towards the bottom of the ladder, I bear their misfortune with great fortitude and rush onto the field.

I receive a healthy amount of sledging from my teammates for turning up so late. Fair cop. Watching the opposition bat for a few overs, it turns out our meagre first innings total of 154 runs is imminently defendable. The field is soaked, giving a suction noise whenever I try to lift my feet off the ground. It really is swampland! It doesn't hurt that we batted on a dry field last week! The batsmen are finding it difficult getting the ball off the square, let alone score runs. After a couple more overs, a wicket falls. 5 for 66. First innings points are looking pretty good.

The next partnership is stubborn. A young guy drops anchor at one end, an older guy tonks it around at the other end. Finally, Craig gets one to cut in through the gate and the old guy is bowled. 6 for 81. The next guy comes and goes, also bowled by Craig. He's bowling medium pace darts off a 2 step run-up. Hmm, maybe I need to rethink my 6 step run-up - think of all that unnecessary energy expended!

The last wicket falls several overs later and we win first innings points with 67 runs to spare (CriciWiki Scorecard). Finally, our second win of the season (out of 5 games). Although it's within our captain's right to continue the game, he asks the opposition if they want to continue. I lobby that we kick on. I'd hardly had time to raise a sweat! However, our captain is thinking about the beer at the clubhouse. Forget the beer, I want to play cricket! The opposition go into a huddle and emerge, deciding to call it quits. The game ends several hours early and we all head back to the clubhouse.

Feeling a bit frustrated at missing out on any action, I persuade Dexter to have a net session where we both bowl spin for a good hour. At least I got some cricket under my belt today. Next week, we play the only other team we've defeated this season. Perhaps a quiet word in the captain's ear about how I took 3 wickets in an over against these guys might get me a bowl.

A glut of quicks, a dearth of batsmen

The exciting news for Australia heading into the 1st Ashes Test next Wednesday is Brett Lee has got his groove back. In the tour game against the England Lions, Lee took for 5 for 53, narrowly missing out on a hattrick at one point. Most importantly, his second spell found lethal reverse swing. England fans everywhere will be cursing the ECB who in their 2005 triumph couldn't be bothered hanging onto Troy Cooley.

More concerning is the form slump of Marcus North. In the first 3 tour games, he's managed only 13 runs. Why is the woes of a #6 batsman so worrisome? Because we don't have a single batsman to replace him. In their infuriating quest for an all-rounder, the selectors chose THREE ordinary all-rounders in the Australian squad. Not a single back-up batsman in the squad. When will they learn to select quality over mediocrity? We saw this coming back in May when the squad was announced.

I'm not even going to talk about Australia's spin options.

A million reasons why Australia lost the 2005 Ashes

There has been a lot of blame cast around for Australia's infamous 2005 Ashes loss. Ricky Ponting blamed Billy Bowden. I blamed Ricky Ponting. Nathan Bracken blamed breath mints. Cricket Australia blamed the WAGS. Matt Hayden blamed God.

A new scapegoat has emerged. Damien Martyn has cast blame on the 2005 Ashes loss on Australian coach, John Buchanan:

"All comments by Warne and MacGill are right and you'd find that 99% of the group from that era would agree. They're just the only guys who've got [the courage] to say it. The management team didn't plan right, we had a not-very-good, quick preparation in Brisbane and then we landed and away we went.

We played a Twenty20 against England, which England still talk about, flogging us down in Hampshire. Buck was saying, 'It's only a muck-around game, don't worry about it' and we trained for four hours on the morning. So we went from the nets next door, busting a gut, into a T20 game where they rolled up playing it like a Test match and flogged us. There were a lot of mistakes made and a lot will never come out.

We got slack, everything clicked for them, they haven't played that well since then and they won't ever again. They built themselves up so much for the Ashes when the Ashes for us had dropped off because we'd won it so many times. For us it was conquering all things, World Cups, Champions Trophy, the subcontinent. The Ashes was just another series but for England it was their pinnacle and we just went underprepared."

Come on, Damo, you gotta release a book listing the "million behind-the-scenes reasons" for the series defeat. You've already got your title, "1,000,000 reasons why we lost the Ashes". Well, maybe trim it down to a few thousand reasons to keep the pages at manageable levels. Would make a fine counterpoint to Ricky Ponting's Captain's Diary.

Thommo rips Punter a new one

Jeff Thomson talks like he bowls - slinging volleys that rip, destroy and ruin their intended target. He once rated Shane Watson lower than an allrounder's arsehole. Now he lets loose on Ricky Ponting's captaincy abilities:

"I thought Ricky was crap when he was first captain in 2004 and nothing much has improved since then. I'm not the only one who thinks that. I've always bagged him and everyone at home thinks he's s*** at the captaincy. He's a great player but captaincy is a totally different thing.

I couldn't believe it when he'd been picked as captain. There was no-one else to pick but Ponting still had no experience. He'd only captained one side ever before. How did he get to lead Australia with that sort of experience?

He was in a side that had very good players and now he's got a side that has average players. He's still left wanting. You see it on him - he gets frustrated. He worries when the players don't do what he's used to with the ball when he passes it to them."

Tell us what you really think, Thommo! Still, it's hard to disagree. In a scene reminiscent of that Simpsons episode where Ned Flanders cracks it and sledges everyone in range, Thommo then moves onto Nathan Hauritz:

"This is half the reason he's got a bloke in there who can't even spin a ball. Simon Katich and Michael Clarke have more chance of taking a wicket than Hauritz. Why go for a guy like that? I don't rate Hauritz."

Just when Punter was taking a deep sigh of relief, thinking he was out of Thommo's sights, he returned back to Ponting's captaincy:

"The choices he (Ponting) makes, his field settings and the things he does are never right. England have the edge in the captaincy department. But while England have a better captain, Australia have a better line-up."

Who else can Thommo spray at? How about Brett Lee?

"I don't see a place for Brett Lee in this side. He hasn't played for such a long time."

Phew, Binger got off pretty light. Finally, Thommo moves onto Mitchell Johnson:

"Mitchell Johnson is a handy bowler but what's really added another string to his bow is his batting - he's a really good batsman. He bats properly and is a good hitter of the ball. He's got defence and attack."

Wow, Mitchell Johnson might as well retire now. Compliments from Thommo has to be the pinnacle of any cricketer's career.

Aloof Theory Part 7: donkey dropper and cannon fodder

Last week, I suffered the indignity of walking out to bat without any pads on: a feat so monumentally stupid, even Jrod saw fit to comment. This week, we turned up to the ground to find teenagers in the outfield pegging cricket balls at stumps. Get off our field, you whippersnappers! Turns out Pappy got his wires crossed and we were at the wrong ground. Another cracking start to the day!

We rush into our cars and speed off to the new location which turns out to be the most God forsaken cricket field I've ever played on. As Pappy described it on the mobile to some teammates struggling to find the area: "Drive for ages along Peel Rd, then turn left at Antarctica".

As we drive there, Will complains to Pappy about why the captain never gives him a bowl, particularly after he won the bowling trophy a season or two ago. I remember making a similar complaint to Pappy a few weeks ago (except the bit about the bowling trophy, no such luck). I realised just about every guy in the team is busting to have a bowl but there's only two ends of the pitch to bowl from. My dream of being a frontline spinner is turning out to be a tad more difficult than first realised.

When we finally arrived at the address, all we saw was a football field and a dirt road trailing off into bushland. We followed the dirt road which wound through what looked like a swamp, turning a corner to find a cricket field nestled in amongst the reeds. The location was so obscure, I was inspired this week to add a Google Maps feature to CriciWiki to help clubs more easily locate their cricket grounds. Here's where we played:

Our season is in dire straits - out of 4 games, we'd only won once. This game was crucial. Our captain, Thommo (named after his slinging bowling action), won the toss and batted. I was written down as #5 so I made myself comfortable, basked in the winter sun and found myself dozing off. Finally to rouse myself, I got Pappy and Dexter to bowl some balls at me. Just as they were finishing up, the 3rd wicket fell. I strode out to the wicket, patting myself down to ensure I was wearing all the requisite pieces of equipment.

Will of the 4 coffees was at the other end. Fortunately he hadn't had a chance to O.D. on caffeine this morning. I found myself facing a young quick bowler, possibly still in his teens. Will advised me he wasn't getting much movement. His first ball speared towards off stump, I stepped out to it but it swung away. I let it go through, nice delivery, good leave. Once again, thanks for the heads up, Will. The next ball was similar, towards off stump, but this one didn't move away. In fact, it cut back in off the pitch, a cracker of a follow-up delivery. Being just short of a length, I let it pass over the stumps. Even nicer leave. Great bowling but I confess I was quite proud of how I handled it. Would've been nice to know he was moving it both ways, though, Will!

Next ball was on the pads so I leg glanced for two. Then he bowled a full toss outside off and I drove as hard as I could. The ball shot hard and low straight at point, reaching the fielder at about shin height. He bent down but didn't get a finger on it and it shot off to the boundary. Thank goodness for crappy B-grade club fielding. Good first over.

At the other end, the bowler was channelling the spirits of Lasith Malinga and Jeff Thomson. He had one of the longest run-ups I'd seen in a club game, pounding in like he was about to hurl a javelin in an Olympic final. He had a huge slinging action. But the delivery, well, it was lively but a bit of an anti-climax after all the initial build-up. Nevertheless, the slinging action was like a red flag to Will who batted patiently against the other bowlers, steadily approaching his half-century. Against this guy, he tried to smash every ball out of the park. Finally, Slinger got one on the stumps, Will tried to deposit it over cow's corner and his off stump was neatly plucked out of the ground.

In came Pappy. Slinger bowled a chest high full toss. Pappy deftly steered it over third man for six (lamentably, the scorers only marked it as 4). I saw off the teenager at the other end and their opening bowler replaced him. This guy bowled useful outswing although the ball was 50 overs old at this point and not doing much. But it did enough to get past Pappy's bat and he was trapped LBW in front.

Next, out came Mick. He only had one shot in his repertoire and sure enough, first delivery, backs away, clears his front leg and smashes the ball over mid-on's head for two. Typical sighter for Mick. Next delivery, exactly the same shot, the ball goes to exactly the same spot. Unfortunately for Mick, mid-on had moved back twenty metres and comfortably takes the catch. I've only been out there for 7 overs and 3 wickets have already fallen. After watching 9 wickets fall from the non-striker's end last week, I'm beginning to think maybe I'm a bad luck charm. I decided I wasn't going to block my way to another red inker this week. This time, I'm going out swinging.

The slinger is replaced by an off-spinner. Perfect, love facing spin. At the start of the over, I cast a greedy eye over the vast expanses from deep mid-on to deep mid-wicket. Plenty of runs out there. First ball was flighty and full. I stepped out to it, tried to smash across the line to the on-side, played over it and was bowled. Beaten by the very thing that snaffled me so many wickets - greed, under-estimating the bowler, pre-meditation, brain explosion, take your pick!

I trudged back, deeply dissatisfied with only 7 runs. My season average suffered a Husseyesque plunge from 46 to 37 (noting that I've not yet notched a score higher than 34). Predictably, our innings didn't take long to wrap up, all out for 154. Afterwards, Mick tells me some of the team were discussing batting me at #3. The comment was quite flattering. He then elaborated with "that way, we can shield our good batsmen from the new ball". Okay, thanks for clarifying, Mick! So I'm to be the sacrificial lamb that takes the polish off the ball. At least I know my role in the team now. Donkey dropper and cannon fodder.

I think I'm ready to concede that last season's experiment to reinvent myself as a tailend batsman and frontline spinner is all but a dismal failure. So maybe I should just go with this #3 thing. I must admit after last week's 3 hour stint, I feel a lot more comfortable at the crease. It was only when I played a stupid shot that I got myself dismissed this week.

We take the field with only 8 overs to bowl. Our captain Thommo bowls himself from one end. There really should be a law against slinging bowling - he bowls 7 wides in 4 overs, rarely causing the batsman to play at the ball. Defending only 154, those sundries are gold for the opposition. One bright point, Pappy bowling his miserly chinamen from the other end takes a wicket on the last ball of the day. 1 for 24. Can we defend our total next week? Can we finally win a game? And most importantly, will I get a bowl? These questions and more...

In progress scorecard courtesy of CriciWiki

Shane Watson is injured (true story)

If you know nothing about cricket, are from another planet or have been living under a rock for the last few years, you might be surprised to hear Shane Watson was injured at training two weeks before the Ashes begins. Some have already questioned if Shane Watson could last through 5 days of hard Test cricket. Or 4 overs of bowling in a Twenty20 game. Or a night in a haunted castle.

Watson has had an unlucky run with injuries. Even the tour of England has been one mishap after another. He pulled a hamstring on the escalator at Heathrow Airport, dislocated his right shoulder attempting to pick up his luggage and got a paper cut reading the morning paper. Cotton wool share prices were said to soar when the Australian squad arrived as the coaching staff looked to buy up all available stock. However, they haven't been able to wrap Watson enough to get him through to the First Test unscathed.

End Of Ashes Dream For Vaughan And Harmison

Michael Vaughan and Steve Harmison have been left out of England's 16-man Ashes training squad - which suggests their Ashes dreams are over.

Whilst Vaughan is centrally contracted, only a man with a brain the size of Phil Tufnell's could make a case for him starting any of this summer's Tests. He has been woefully out of form ever since...well...2005.

I reckon Harmison's unlucky - despite coming from the Shane Watson school of needing a hand to hold at all times. He's bang in form - a fairly rare occurance - with 16 wickets in his last two championship games. Plus, home soil usually minimises the chances of him falling to pieces - that said, the first match is in Wales, which is enough to give the hardiest of folk the jitters.

Here's our squad of bizarrely-named warriors in full: Andrew Strauss (captain), James Anderson, Ian Bell, Ravinder Bopara, Tim Bresnan, Stuart Broad, Paul Collingwood, Alastair Cook, Andrew Flintoff, Graham Onions, Monty Panesar, Kevin Pietersen, Matt Prior, Adil Rashid, Ryan Sidebottom, Graeme Swann.

By the way, a popular pastime has emerged over here - laughing at Nathan Hauritz and the fact he doesn't appear to be very good. Think we're missing something closer to home - if you want a laugh, check out Monty Panesar's record so far this year. Jeez. Is it just me, or was Tuffers looking in decent shape in the video...

Tuffers sings, cricket (and music) fans cringe

He was crap at cricket. Turns out he's even more crap at singing. Here's Phil Tufnell's attempt to rile Australia in musical form:

Now I love a good ribbing as much as the next guy. I enjoyed Tufnell's sledging the Aussies at the Allan Border Medal night. But this is just wrong. So wrong. If an Australian produced something this awful, I'd be ashamed.

Still, gotta laugh when their most optimistic prediction is a 3-2 victory... probably.

South Africa and the C-word

Sure, Australia were knocked out of the Twenty20 World Cup pretty much from the get-go. But that bitter pill is at least sweetened with South Africa choking in the semi-final against Pakistan. Naturally the c-word was going to be mentioned to Graeme Smith who responded:

"Every time we lose an important game like this, the word is going to be thrown around, it's around the team, and it was natural if we didn't win today people were going to raise that comment. This tournament is almost a knock-out from the word go. Maybe other teams choked in the Super Eights phase."

So according to the South African world view, everyone is a choker except the ultimate winner of the tournament. We live in a world full of chokers. Chokers to the left of me, chokers to the right.

But on the other hand, the rest of the world didn't enter this tournament as raging favourites, playing unbeaten until crunch time in the semi-finals. Nope, Graeme Smith can spin it anyway he likes it. But the C-word is imprinted on his and his teammates' foreheads more firmly than ever.

Aloof Theory Part 6: Aloofness run amock

Having survived to stumps last week, I spent the first part of this week imagining going out to bat again and gradually getting more anxious about what might happen. I pictured getting dismissed in the first over of the day after sweating it out for a week. Fortunately, the Wednesday night net session cleared my head. I came out of it resolved to focus solely on picking the line and length as quickly as possible and get my feet into the right position. That and sticking around until we'd chased down the 194 runs required for victory.

So come Saturday, I had achieved a zen state of Aloof Theory when I arrived at the ground. The entire opposition team were there, I was the first to arrive from ours. Three minutes from the start of play, only two other team members had arrived. Finally Willy, my batting partner arrives, pretty much dead on the start of play. He rushes to get padded up and we walk out. As I approach the pitch, one of the fielders calls out to me, "Mate, aren't you wearing pads?" I look down aghast. I'd forgotten to put pads on! Out of all the most ridiculous things I've ever done on a cricket field, this was first, daylight second. Sure, I have to concentrate on the ball but this is aloofness run amock! I rush to the boundary, throw on the pads, run back and arrive at the crease, breathless and flustered as I prepare to face the first ball. Perfect start to the day!

I was disappointed to learn their legspinner was not playing today, replaced by their usual opening bowler. Less spin, more quicks, not a good equation. Their opener was bowling the first over to me. He bowls fast, with outswing, tight line and length. Despite the less than ideal preparation, I manage to defend my way through the first over. Willy defends the next over. We bat out several maidens. The bowlers are giving us nothing but a lot of sledging. Constant chirping between deliveries, particularly from the smart mouthed cover fieldsman (the guy I nearly brained last week). Finally, Willy snaps and swings across the line, trying to smash the ball into the trees past deep-mid wicket. He misses and off stump flies out of the ground. Later, he confesses he'd drank 4 cups of coffee that morning, was all keyed up and the chirping got to him. Sledging and caffeine, a lethal cocktail on the cricket field. 2 for 39.

Our best batsman, Craig, strides in. He immediately starts middling the ball and hits several powerful boundaries over the bowler's head. Meanwhile, I'm happily nudging the ball around for singles so I can sit back and enjoy the fireworks. A new bowler comes on, a young, fit looking bloke. He bowls quick but doesn't move the ball around much. He spears one in at Craig's pads. He tries to turn the ball to the legside but misses. The ball spoons off his pads and dribbles onto the stumps. 3 for 77.

His brother Dan replaces him. Not quite as talented a batsman as Craig but still hits the ball pretty hard. Two balls later, he plays a forward defensive shot, inside edging it onto his stumps. 4 for 77. Okay, now I'm starting to worry. Pappy waddles out. He's old, overweight but a tough character - if anyone can grit his way through this situation, it's Pappy. But I'm surprised to see him struggling against the bowling. He's stuck on the crease, sparring at the ball, playing and missing a fair bit. Finally, he wafts at one outside off and plays onto his stumps. 5 for 84.

The ball isn't moving around much - it's about 50 overs old by now. But they're bowling with discipline, maintaining line and length and not giving us much to hit. I've been out there for nearly two hours but still don't feel like I'm timing the ball. The smart mouth comes in right under my nose, challenging me to cover drive. He's so close, it's a fairly risk-free shot and the next full ball, I drive hard straight at him. It narrowly misses him, flying past his right side, but he's unperturbed. "That's batter 1, fielder nil. Gonna try again?" I drive the next full one, this one flies past his left side. "Third time lucky maybe", I reply. He withdraws back to cover. The exchange keeps him quiet for at least a few deliveries.

Meanwhile, wickets continue to fall at the other end. One of our tailenders come out and I nearly have a heart attack when on his first ball, he backs away and tries to smash the ball over cover. It turns out that's the only shot in his repertoire as he continues to smash everything and manages to connect most of the time. He smashes a huge shot over deep mid-on that narrowly misses six. Our partnership reached 22 and suddenly the runs required fall less than 100. Next ball is a knee high full toss, he mishits it to mid-on who pouches the ball comfortably. 7 for 108.

Next comes our captain. Fairly dodgy technique but can hit the ball hard. "Let's save this game," he mutters as he reaches the pitch. Inspiring captain's words, I almost believe we can do it. A couple of overs later, he edges it to the slips, out for a duck. 8 for 111. The final two tailenders both fall for ducks and our innings ends on 115, a gaping 79 runs short. I batted for 3 hours, the longest I'd spent at the crease but only managed to amass 34 runs. It was satisfying being out there for so long but I never felt in, never really timed the ball well. When wickets started falling, I aimed to preserve my wicket, tried to build some partnerships. Maybe I should've batted more aggressively, challenged the bowlers, upped the run rate. Hard to say. One thing I know, I'm going to have to develop more scoring shots than the leg glance and nick through slips.

Before I know it, we're back in the field. We only have 1 hour left to play so the goal is to take as many wickets as possible, score some bonus points. I sidle up to the captain and suggest if we're after quick wickets, maybe some flighty leg spin would do the trick. He says he was actually thinking the same thing. Hmm, maybe you do need to sell yourself a little to get a bowl in this game. Only problem, every muscle in my body is aching, I wonder if I can muster the strength to send the ball all the way to the other end of the pitch. Good thing I'm a donkey dropper, not a fast bowler.

Trev is taking wickets at one end but Dan is getting hammered at the other end. After a 4, 6, 4 in the first 3 balls of his third over, the captain calls out, "Cookie, you're on at Dan's end next over". Gotta feel for Dan but well, someone has to make way for the leggie. To add insult to injury, the last ball of the over is smashed in my direction, I misfield and it rolls over the boundary. Dan does not look happy.

In the next over, Trev dismisses their top opener who had just smashed Dan out of the attack. So two young guys at the crease as I come on to bowl. I fancy my chances. My second ball is a dead set pie, short, wide down the leg side and he rightly smashes it for four. Next few deliveries are well flighted outside off, including a play and miss. For the fifth delivery, I consider the quicker arm ball but as I run in, I change my mind and bowl wide of the crease, attempting to confound him with the different angle. It pitches outside off and he reverse sweeps it over gully's head for two. Dang, should've gone with the arm ball. I try the arm ball next but he defends. That horse had already bolted.

Next over, I try giving the ball more flight, coaxing a wicket. First ball, he smashes it towards long off. Ouch. No, wait, there's a man out there. It's the captain. He's sprinting towards the ball. Can he get there? He gets there! The ball flies through his fingers, into his shoulder and spills onto the ground. Ouch again. They manage to get to two more of my donkey droppers on the full, milking a few twos. Last few balls, they defend and I end my second over with figures of 0 for 12.

The captain brings on spin from the other end, a blood lab technician with the inspired nickname of Dexter. He takes a wicket with his third delivery as the batsman bunts the ball feebly to short mid-wicket. Wickets are falling freely. The opposition captain runs out and offers to end the game early. There's still 10 overs to go but our captain accepts. As we walk off, I mention that the opposition were perhaps concerned about the bonus points we were accruing with the wickets. Captain replies that he was mainly thinking about the beer back at the club house.

So a day of mixed feelings. To carry the bat is a satisfying achievement. To score only 34 runs in 3 hours, not so impressive. And the bottom line, we failed to chase 194 runs and lost the first innings points. We're going to need some good results in the last 4 games to salvage the season.

Final CriciWiki scorecard here...

Aloof Theory Part 5: remaining aloof in the face of frustration

Our last two games were rained out. One of these was against a team featuring three girls who played in the Queensland State side - the only club team I'd encountered with females. The other team were the easy beats languishing at the bottom of the table. We were all champing at the bit to take on both teams (for different reasons) only to be frustrated by weather. Thank goodness the sun finally came out this weekend.

Today was our first two-dayer of the season. We were playing the team that narrowly pipped us in the season's first one dayer. Time for some payback. They won the toss and batted (yep, bat first theory back in vogue again). I didn't mind fielding. I was eagerly anticipating bowling some legspin in the longer form of the game.

The innings unfolded. Wickets fell at regular intervals. The captain made bowling change after bowling change. Finally he brought on some legspin. Only problem, not me. The other guy sent down half-tracker after half-tracker, getting smashed through the legside regularly. He got spelled. My frustration grew. 6 bowlers used, then the captain started going through the opening bowlers again.

I attempted sending brainwave signals to the captain. No luck. I tried the oldest trick in the book, the old windmill warm-up. Nada. Didn't 3 wickets in an over prove I was worth throwing the ball to? We get no respect, us donkey droppers. Finally, after 4 hours, with the team on 8 for 194, the captain called, "Cookie, you're on next over".

The umpire called drinks. Okay, I've waited four hours, a few minutes longer won't kill me. As we walked off the field, the opposition captain called out that he was declaring. Oh, crap! Couldn't he wait a few more overs?!

The captain began asking around for openers. Noone was leaping at the opportunity to bat after 4 hours in the field. I was asked if I wanted to open. There was about an hour to go until stumps. I replied with a curt no. I know, not exactly playing for the team. But I was feeling stiff, sore and surly.

Our openers went out with the intent of lasting to stumps. Penitent after turning down the opener position, I offered to bat first drop and padded up. The clock ticked on. About 20 minutes from stumps, a legspinner came on. I watched from the boundary with interest. This guy was pretty good. Not quite donkey drop material but landing it fairly consistently on a good length.

With 10 minutes to go, the legspinner bowled one of our openers with the last ball of his over. Is it my imagination or do I play the part of nightwatchman an awful lot? I walked out with 3 overs to go, thinking if I got dismissed before stumps, I would probably explode with frustration. Not a good frame of mind. Hardly textbook Aloof Theory.

Willy defended stoutly through one over. This is the same Willy who got off the mark with a six last time I batted with him. This time, he had taken 20 overs to amass a total of 1 run. He was part Rahul Dravid, part Chris Tavare, part Jason Gillespie. The defensive parts, that is.

Next over, I was on strike. I asked Willy did he bowl legspin? Yes. Did he do anything else with the ball? No. My thoughts flashed back to that time I was stumped in the last over of the day. There was no way I was leaving the crease. The fielders closed in, silly mid-on, silly mid-off. First ball, straight on a good length, I dead batted it down at my feet. Second ball, another on a good length, pitching just outside off. I prepared to leave, the ball spun back in, a well placed wrong 'un. I hadn't picked it at all but the delivery was slow enough for me to dead bat it once again. Thanks for the heads up, Willy!

The captain immediately sent in two more close-in fielders. They went into sledging overdrive, chirping away that I wasn't picking the spin, had no idea what the ball was doing, a wicket was just around the corner, yadda yadda. It was all designed to put me off my game. In truth, I was loving it. One of my goals of the season was to be on the receiving end of some decent sledging. In the past, I'd never really posed enough of a threat to the opposition to be worth the effort of some good, creative sledging. These guys, on the other hand, had declared, risking a first innings loss in the effort to gain some wickets before stumps. Bring on the chirp, boys.

Next ball was a genuine donkey drop, short, pitched outside leg. Although there was only an over and a half left before stumps, I couldn't knock this back - I pulled it as hard as I could. The ball rocketed away over square leg, missing silly mid-on's unhelmeted head by inches. Off the mark with a boundary. Coincidentally, silly mid-on was the chirpiest of all the close-in fielders.

The next delivery was another on a good length, pitching around off stump. Hesitant about which way it was spinning, I was caught flat footed on the crease. The ball was a legspinner and I pulled the bat away but too late - the ball struck the bat and squirted away just wide of first slip. The wicket keeper groaned in anguish. Next ball, another good length ball, I got well forward and defended. Last ball of the over, short down the leg side. I tried to smash it for four again but missed. So did the wicket keeper and we ran two byes. End of the over.

Willy was left to face the last over. Again, he defended with the laser-like concentration of a nightwatchman, refusing to play a shot. At the other end, I mentally resolved to avoid running a single at all cost. And before we knew it, stumps was called. I walked off with a sense of elation - finally something went right today.

A week of anticipation should make it hard to achieve a zen like aloof state by next Saturday. To exacerbate matters, Wendy has offered to stay and watch next weekend. Conditions to almost guarantee an early failure. But with a whole afternoon to bat and 158 runs required to win first innings points, I have one simple strategy. Block the good balls, smash the bad ones. Hopefully I'll last long enough to have a good tussle with that legspinner - looking forward to that battle.

CriciWiki scorecard (still in progress)

Blink and you miss it. Australia out of the T20 World Cup

I was half heartedly considering staying up and watching Australia progress through the Twenty20 World Cup. I missed the first game and the second game wasn't televised. And now suddenly, it's over. Australia have been knocked out of the World Cup.

You could see it coming. Even when we were dominating every other form of the game a few years back, the players couldn't help show their ambivalence towards Twenty20. Back when cricket was criticised for being so predictable because Australia always won, suddenly a form of the game emerged where they might lose.

Now that we're struggling to win 50 over games and even Test series, well, these days Australia are happy to even eke out a single Twenty20 victory. We haven't won one in our last 5 outings. But on the bright side, it does allow me to save all my sleep deprivation for the Ashes. And at least we didn't lose to Holland.

Roy finally laid to rest

Roy has been sent home from England. This latest infringement (drinking while watching State of Origin, shocking stuff) was the straw that broke the camel's back. Not that I think Roy was drinking the beer through a straw. Drinking like a camel, maybe.

You'd have to say Australian cricket has come a long way since those days when David Boon downed 54 beers on the flight from Australia to England. Times are different now. Drunkeness is frowned upon in the Australian squad. Of course, that didn't stop Ricky Ponting from wearing a VB cap at the press conference.

Of course, this should have no bearing on the cricket that matters - the Ashes. Roy was never on the Test squad for which I'm thankful. Nevertheless, I'm having a deja vu moment to the last time Australia toured England in 2005, beginning with Roy getting himself booted off the squad for drinking followed by an upset defeat at the hands of Bangladesh and then losing the Ashes. Good times, 2005. Let's hope the aftermath doesn't repeat itself in 2009.

However, despite the fact that I've frequently lobbied for Symonds to be dropped from the Australian team, it's not good form to kick a man while he's down. So let's remember some of the good times - the following moment has to be one of Roy's career highlights:

Aloof Theory Part 4: Revenge of the donkey droppers

Having lost our first two games of the season, the boys were hungry for a win this week. The opposition won the toss and sent us in. Well, that destroys my theory of club cricketers always wanting to bat first. My teammates were all surprised by the decision too, maybe the theory just applies to our team. Our openers got us off to a great start, putting on 123 runs in 18 overs. With two wickets to fall before I had to bat, an off spinner came on. First ball had heaps of flight, almost as much as mine. Hmm, wouldn't mind facing this guy (I've often wished I could face myself). In his second over, he got our #3 out caught at cover. The next batsman had one sighter, then charged him and was stumped for his troubles. So before I knew it, I was walking out to face the off spinner. Be careful what you wish for.

Craig, the non-striker, offered a quick assessment: "This guy just bowls donkey drops like you". Uh, thanks Craig. His first ball was a long hop wide outside off-stump. I don't bowl those, do I?! I threw everything at it and smashed it forward of point for four. Next ball was straight on a good length, I defended watchfully. Third ball outside off, slightly short, I cut, bottom edged it, dropped by the keeper. Phew, dodged a bullet there. Donkey dropper nearly had 3 wickets in an over. We're a much maligned form of bowler but we do get results.

There's a quick guy coming in from the other end. I'm on strike for several dot balls, can't get him away. Not a big fan of the pace bowling, much prefer the spinners. Then a new bowler came on to replace him. I'm on strike, no idea what he bowls. Keeper stands up at the wicket. Good sign, I'm thinking and hoping spinner. I scrutinise his hand motions as he bowls a few practice deliveries to a fielder. Looks like another offie. I'll take that! First ball, straight full toss, I sweep it behind square for two. Next ball, full toss on the pads, I hoick this one, top edge it and it sails over fine leg's head for a lucky boundary. Spinners from both ends, I'm liking this.

Penultimate over from the donkey dropper. Craig at the other end is in devastating form, hitting a steady stream of sixes and fours. My goal is to get him on strike as quickly as possible. Any good balls, I paddle over mid-wicket's head for a single. Last ball of the over, he bowls one down the leg side. Knowing there was noone behind square, I knew this was a gift and one thought went through my head - "don't miss it, don't waste it". I connect and the ball shoots off to the fine-leg boundary.

Last over, their opening bowler comes back on. I'm on 22 and start thinking about what a red inker will do for my batting average (when you've only been dismissed twice that season, it would nearly double it). But hey, those kinds of thoughts violate Aloof Theory! So I decide I won't try to preserve my wicket. If I get on strike, I'll throw everything at it. Craig is on strike. First ball, cover drive for two. Second ball, smashes for four. Next ball hits him on the pads. I scream for a quick single, he sends me back. In hindsight, a wise move. Next ball, smashed over mid-wicket for six. I never could've done that. Another cover drive for two. Then the last ball of the innings, full on the stumps, smashed over long off for six. Okay, wise to keep him on strike. And I get my red inker after all!

We end up reaching 237 off 31 overs (shortened game due to slow over rate). We figure surely this is defendable. But their openers come out and strike boundaries at disturbingly regular intervals. The older guy is seeing it like a beach ball and the outfield is quick. I wonder how I'll go if I have to bowl to him. Then luck strikes, he chances his arm one time too many and his stumps are sent flying. The young middle order panic, a few quick wickets fall including a ludicrous run-out.

The captain lets me know I'm bowling next. We're deep into the middle-order with two new, young batsmen at the crease. The required run-rate now in double figures. I figure I'm either going to go for heaps of runs or bag some wickets. Hopefully the latter.

First ball, shocker, down the leg side. Keeper fumbles, one bye. Next ball, as I run in, the batsman moves two feet towards point, trying to slog me through the legside. Squirts it to mid-wicket, runs a near suicidal single, just makes his crease as I knock off the bails. Next ball, the batsman charges, smashes the ball cleanly, hard and low, directly into the hands of long-on. The fielder does well to hold onto it. 1 for 1 and my first wicket of the season!

Two balls later, I'm bowling to twinkly toes, two feet guy. I decide to try an arm ball, hopefully catch him out if he tries some more creative footwork. However, I completely forget to bowl with the same arm speed and it comes out as a fast, knee high full toss. The batsman slogs, top edges it high into the air towards long on. As the ball swirls down, I think "it's getting big on him, he's gonna put it down". He takes the catch, grasping the ball over his shoulders. 2 for 2!

Next delivery is the last ball of the over. I bowl a stockball legspinner, pitching on leg stump. The batsman lofts me over mid-wicket. Hang on, Craig's out at deep mid-wicket. He runs in, faster than I'd seen him move all day, and takes the catch. Three wickets in my first over. Figures of 3 for 2! On a hattrick!

One of our opening bowlers comes on at the other end. There's only one wicket left in the innings so I call out, "no wickets this over, Smithy". He laughs and calls back, "if it comes your way, you better not drop it". The batsmen safely negotiate the over and I'm coming on for a hattrick ball. I decide to go with flight, as much flight as I can muster. And it really is, I throw it up at an angle of around 45 degrees, ridiculously high. The ball lands straight on a good length, perfectly pitched to tempt him into charging. He just stands there, lets it spin and bounce past him at shoulder height. Oh well, no dream hattrick for me.

Next ball, slightly short, he punches it through the covers for four. Ouch. Next ball, he smashes it straight into the hands of mid-wicket who drops it. Next ball is on the stumps, the batsman paddles it over mid-wicket's head, this one dribbles out to the boundary. The over isn't proceeding well at all, ends up going for 10 runs.

Batsman survive the other end so I come on for a third over. In the nets, I've been experimenting with bowling the odd ball wide of the crease, angling it across the batsman then spinning it across them. The change in trajectory often had the batsman playing and missing. So I try this first ball of the over. It comes out perfectly, lands on leg stump, the batsman swings, misses and the ball sails over the off-stump. Damn bouncy synthetic grass. On a turf pitch, that would have been a perfect Gatting ball. Still, I'm learning that spin bowling isn't about big ripping Gatting balls. It's about using variations in pace, trajectory and spin to prevent the batsman getting settled. That's the theory, anyway. Not so easy to put into practice.

Second ball, batsman charges, lofts it high to long on. Like his last catch, it gets big on him - this time too big and he drops the catch. I bowl one at the pads, he sweeps for four. As we wait for the ball to return from the boundary, the umpire comments that was the best shot of the day. Oh well, better to get hit for four from a quality shot than from bowling a pie. No, I lie, they hurt equally as much.

Next ball even further down the leg side, another sweep for four. Things are going pear shaped after that glorious first over. Final figures 3 for 22. Three wickets and two dropped catches in 3 overs. The captain comes on at the other end and takes the final wicket. Victory by 72 runs.

Ironically, my bowling was of better quality last week. It seems like legspin, more than any other form of bowling, is at the mercy of chance - will those lofted shots find fielders (and at my level of club cricket, will the fielders hold onto the catches). Plus it really makes a difference bowling to the lower order. As I've said before, I'm Warnie to crap batsmen, Bryce McGain to good ones.

So our first win of the season. Not just a win, we smashed them. I know Aloof Theory is all about process, not results, but it's good to finally get on the board with a win and some wickets.

The CriciWiki scoresheet of the game can be found here...