Revellers,
Dropped by the Front Bar at The Local the morning after going 2-0 up with the Annihilation in Adelbrain, and found The Philosopher in his usual corner toying with this week's favoured tipple - a screwdriver with a slice of lemon and a red glace cherry on top.
[Turns out a barmaid had fooled him with a line of nonsense about how cherries are good for you; a health-giving fruit].
Asked him what the name of the lunatic asylum in Perth is, on account of there will be an entire England cricket team in there this time next week in an extremely distressed state after going down 3-0 and finding the ASHES GORN!
Suprisingly, the Philosopher didn't know the answer to the question, so he batted it along the bar until some other sage replied "The place is called 'Graylands'. At Mt Claremont, I think you'll find. One of the finest metal institutions in the country. X-Block is particularly good for the terminally disturbed, apparently".
Tried to get the Brown Bros to join in a rousing rendition of the well-worn refrain "Poms on toast! Poms on toast! Poms on toast!", but they weren't in it, smarting as they were from New Zealand having been cruelly robbed by rain of certain victory over the West Indies.
They were fair glum, eh bro?
In a match chock full of "tipping points" it's difficult to pin-point the one that sent Captain Cook completely bonkers.
Was it is own dismissal in the 1st innings, bowled neck & crop by Joke Johnno [now there's a phoenix rising from the ashes if ever there was one, after his papers were clearly marked "never to play for Australia again" Whappun]?
Or was it Pup's brilliant catch, on the leap in slips away to his right to take out Swann, before tumbling to the ground all arms and legs while still managing to hold onto the ball, to hammer the final nail into the English coffin as JJ went through them like a dose of salts at almost a hundred miles an hour?
Or maybe it was Clarkey's extraordinary 148 under the circumstances, when he was obviously far from 100% fit?
Lucky if he was 65%.
He was forced to largely put away the trademark cover driving, and his chronic case of Shagger's Back meant square cutting and straight hitting was out of the question; too much pain and muscle strain.
Happy and content just scoring most of his runs through his richly rewarding leg side play - there's no finer exponent of the leg glance in the modern game - and just nurdling it off his hips for one's, two's, and three's.
Not his most spectacular knock by any means, but in the context of the match and the series, one of his best; absolutely priceless.
Robbed of the Man-of-the-Match award, for mine.
No doubt he would have arranged to have Arnie's Spinal Tap Machine shipped west for a thorough work out before the WACA.
Or was it Pup's superlative captaincy, with clever rotation of the bowling, relentlessly setting traps left-right-and-centre for hapless Pommie batsmen; always one step ahead of the opposition in the field?
Who knows?
There is no doubt MJ Clarke has very seriously messed with Cook's head - he's at his wits end and is now paralysed into inaction; doesn't know whether he's Arthur or Martha, or whether he's coming or going
After the match, Cook was such a quivering mass of nerve endings that he was unable to speak coherently, and later, the Flower Pot Man wouldn't be pressed beyond describing the recent results as "difficult", but was heard to say under his breath "can't bat, can't bowl, can't field in Australian conditions"
They must be really encouraged by the reaction of the Pommie Press - who've never been known for holding back it when it comes to bagging their own - with the Adelbrain performance variously headlined in the britarse fishwraps as "wretched - weak - timid - gormless."
He's not one to gloat or anything, but The Stats Guru was eager to point out that the winning target set by Australia was more than the England aggregate of runs in the then three test innings to date at that point.
Never mind the fear in the eyes of the Englishmen.
They'd no doubt be aware of the brown paper sandwich bags stuffed full of cash that would have arrived in the Curator's Shed at the Western Australian Cricket Association Ground under the cover of darkness, just to make certain that the pitch is well and truly doctored to suit the home team.
A sideways glance at the weather forecast for Perth for the five days of the match with predicted maximum degrees celsius temperatures of 38, 38, 38, 39, & 37 would leave the pasty Poms frothing at the mouth.
Do idea at all what they think of Day One being Friday the 13th.
But, doubt that the tourists will enjoy the Festive Season all that much.
