Canine fanciers,
It’s fairly clear that MJ Clarke can’t get enough of batting at the ‘Gabba!
And what a way to kick off a season with nothing less than a classic test match hundred if ever there was one.
The whole purpose of a big test match hundred is to bat the opposition clean out of the game, and that, along with The Great MEK, is exactly what he did.
Spend all the time in the world getting your eye in at five, scratch around for a 50 while seeing to it that you see off the second new ball, and then get on with the job.
Only took a close interest in the first session on day two as I was otherwise engaged for the rest of the day [isn’t it always the way when your bloke’s batting?!!], but it was enough to reveal that the kiddie has certainly not been idle on the workbench over the off season.
Defence is much more compact than it used to – up, back, and cover all the stumps like he hasn’t done before, dramatically reducing the risk of getting out leg before, which has been his major problem in the past.
None of this swishing and wishing, or probing for rubbish outside off stump.
The footwork is as sweet as ever, with a classic example being the lofted off drive off Murali that hit that fence on the full – working left and right sets of toes like a stage dancer on point.
All the shots of course, with some Bradmanesque cover driving; the sort of collision of bat and ball that induces a collective short intake of breath in the crowd, then smiles and the ripple of applause, as they slowly realize they are in the presence of greatness.
The speed of the ball off the blade will always beat anyone forward of square on the off side as it sizzles its way to the boundary.
And no one in the modern game off cuts the ball, more often than not just backward of square, with such surety and ferocity.
Seems to have shed a few pounds too, but admitted that he was “completely buggered” after the day’s play, and after a good feed, ended up in bed, alone, and fast asleep at 8.30pm.
The laddie does like his sleep.
While 550 was obviously enough, you would have thought that Punter, with the time equation heavily in his favour, would have waited a few extra minutes - despite the worries about the light - to allow the bloke to get his 150 – don’t they still count for something a little extra in the record books these days?
And what’s this I read in the Daily Telegraph mid week of his love life being nothing short of sheer domestic bliss despite the recent slobbering incident in South Africa?
And that there’s even “off the record” talk of the pitter patter of tiny feet.
Joisus!
And I also hear a little birdie singing that MJ Clarke has been recently smeared with the holy ointments in a secret ceremony in the temple at Jolimont, on account of being the “natural successor” as the next Strayan captain.
Let’s just hope it doesn’t all go to his head.
Pup professed on the radio this morning that his sole purpose this season is to “cement my place in the side”, so surely, even at his tender age, he would be acutely aware of the distinct possibility of it all going pear shaped, or even ending up as a smouldering train wreck as it did two seasons ago, in what can be the cruelest of games.
