the little paintbrush and the pot of gold paint

Canine fanciers,

Is MJ Clarke the greatest cover driver of the modern era?
The question on everyone’s lips.
Wracking my brain to try and think of a better one, but don’t think there is.
Reminds me more and more of The Great KD Walters as the years press on.
The poise, the footwork, the accuracy, the flashing blade, not to mention the murderous intent, as he puts his head as still as a stone over the ball like Tom Watson at the tee with a No.3 wood in his hand.
The sound of the thwack of leather on willow as it hits the sweet spot, the fieldsmen turned on their heels as the ball glides effortlessly to the boundary, the bowler looking aggrieved when its his own fault, the luscious juiciness of the result, is what got me in from day one.
Still vividly remember the days when he made plenty in the first innings and then smacked a big second innings hundred at Newcastle No.1 back in 2002/2003 with Mark Waugh batting at the other end.
Sublime & sublime.
The quintessential elegance of the cover drive back then hasn’t changed a bit after all these years.
It’s just that the grace and finesse has got better.
Never mind that he spooned a limp-wristed shot to a well laid trap in the first innings, or that he lost his second innings off peg in a flight of fancy to a bog ordinary spinner; in a miserable set of circumstances at Lords, where the dirty rotten cheats at the MCC conspired with the Evil Umpires to rob Straya blind of any chance, at least Pup was one of the very few to hold his head up high as he strode back through the Long Room to see the bloke with the little paintbrush and the pot of gold paint on his stepladder inscribing Clarke, M.J. in gilt on the honour board of test match century makers at the ground.
Just a pity he couldn’t grasp the nettle and go on to become a certified National Hero.
There’s time for that.
Played, son.