Fellow Aghastees,
It was like watching a bright beacon as it suddenly, without warning, just disappeared with a final flicker over the horizon, signifying the loss of all hope of salvation.
Found myself on the deck outside the Colin Egar Bar at the southern end of Adelbrain Oval when it happened.
Waiting very patiently for stumps on Day Four with my 100th beer of the day in hand, when KP Pietersen bowled what would have been the second last ball of the day - a nothing ball - and MJ Clarke played a nothing stroke, somehow contriving to put a huge inside edge on it that could be heard resonating around the ground, which short leg duly trousered.
Never mind what happend before or after that moment.
Out for 80. Four down and a long, long way behind.
One brain explosion and it was game over in the blink of an eye.
Just at that instant, Cricket Australia sent me a text message saying "we're officially fooked".
Believed them, for once.
Mind you, did get to see Pup put together a tidy well-made half century between tea and stumps, and that was more than welcome relief after watching The Evil Empire bat for a two full days, and then some.
Still the best exponent of the late cut in the modern game, some lovely work against the spinner, leg side play, as usual, impeccable; the classical on-drive to a vacant field will always give you value for your shots, while he doesn't mind the odd straight hit that clangs into the sightboard.
But it was precious little consolation.
Could, but won't, take you through the Abomination in Adelbrain chapter and verse - nothing good would come of it given the utterly miserable woefulness of the entire experience; the torture was just too hideous.
Suffice to say that after Straya lost any chance of winning in the first 16 minutes of a five day match, the local fishwrap, The Advertiser, was moved to comment in the next day's edition:
"the pictureseque outlook at the Oval and the festive atmosphere of the opening day soon gave way to scenes of unspeakable horror".
With the Ridiculous Little Urn now safely locked up at Lords, surely the Chairman and the Three Wise Men must take the only honourable course of action available to them and sack themselves, after RT Ponting has fallen on his sword.
