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The greatest series yet to be played

A tongue-in-cheek look at the Ashes by Rohit Brijnath

BURDEN ON HIS SHOULDERS: The England team has a few weak spots to plug, and Andrew Flintoff will be a worried man ahead of the first Test against Australia in the Ashes series. — PHOTO: AFP

Careful investigation and thorough analysis have preceded any prognostication about this Ashes series. No one is leaping to any rapid conclusions. Except that at 1-9 against New South Wales, England's tour was doomed; at 2-95 it was evident their preparation had been particularly sound; at 3-95 no one could doubt the English batting had more holes in it than the spectator's brain who yelled at Monty to speak in "Indian", whatever that is; and at 4-256 it was clear this was the greatest English batting line-up ever seen in the history of this glorious game since 2005.

Did I mention that everyone in Australia is going insane about the Ashes? This is, indisputably, the greatest series ever yet to be played. So much so, that even Borat is in town wearing pads. Apparently he is the only man on this island who does not have an opinion on whether Kevin Pietersen has a problem with hooking.

Every stroke manufactured, face made, quote uttered and ball spun this Ashes series is being poked at delicately as a conservationist might at elephant droppings to see what secrets can be unlocked from it.

The first Test is still a week away and already we can tell you that: a) Shane Warne has done absolutely nothing to upset anyone which in turn has upset touring tabloid headline writers; b) MacGill's zero overs for NSW against England was part of a Buchanan-inspired Machiavellian plan which will shortly be slipped under the visiting team's door; c) McGrath hasn't said "bunny" in a week which is most unsettling; and d) Australia had better win this Ashes else an entire country will need to be on Prozac.

Masterful sledge

Nothing apparently is what it seems to be. Warney, dear fellow, said the other day that Flintoff looked well rested, which led immediately to a television newsreader exclaiming that this was a masterful sledge. After all, it would be hideous, wouldn't it, if Warne was just being friendly, a type of unwarranted behaviour that has been strongly condemned by Allan Border and Merv Hughes, who probably think smiles should have a quota. A further report that stated Trescothick would not receive "extra sledging" (i.e. just the normal dose) from the Australians for his stress-related problems will in some quarters be seen as throwing in the towel.

In between, a terrible silence has fallen over loud office arguments about the merits of Waugh and Taylor's captaincy after Richie Benaud named Ponting as captain of his best Ashes team of the past 30 years in a magazine. Could Richie be wrong? Wait. Is it allowed under the law to say Richie is wrong? Wait, wait. Could this be Richie-style elegant mental disintegration, confusing the English who don't think much of Ponting.

Subject of fascination

The breathlessness stakes have been won, meanwhile, by an English sports commentator who informed us that batting, bowling, captaincy aside, Flintoff has to even field. God forbid. From his hair-cut to his tattoos, the England captain has been a subject of endless fascination down under, as if everyone is working out ways to understand and then fell this amiable giant.

A generous man has been mostly receiving generous press, though his team is not as highly thought of, as demonstrated in the headline after England's thrashing in the opening game which read somewhere along the lines of How Did We Lose To This Mob Last Time. It brought back memories of the triumphant (but premature) headline that followed India's first day in the first Test at Brisbane last time around, which bellowed "Indian Summer Over". A gracious sub-editor was kind enough to insert a question mark.

Finally, rumours that the Australians will take the field with their faces painted with Garnier Wrinkle Lift are desperately untrue, though the moment Dennis Lillee gently alluded to this team's age Damien Martyn put down his walking stick and began throwing punches. Most countries tiptoe around the Australian team's advanced age because it's no fun advertising the fact that you're getting whipped by fellows with dentures. Still, this is, surely, a last glimpse of a grand team, who know that no anti-ageing cream can erase the wrinkles in their games. This is an era's last stand.

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