[Australia's next Great White Hope. Will Pucowski, 20, on scoring his first first-class century. Photo/AAP.]
Aghastee's,
Breaking news! Shock! Horror! Marsh Bros. dropped! The bemused nation cries as one: "about bloody time!" Off they go. To the wilderness. When the Chairmen of the Three Wise Men, TV Hohns, says of the Marshes "the door is certainly not closed" it's code for the thing being well and truly slammed shut, and out the back door you go without so much as a sausage. The Stats Guru has been complaining long and loud about their continued presence in the team. We know that. But he was quick with the abacus to prove his point. SE Marsh has washed up with 38 matches under his Baggy at a very poor batting average of 34.41, while the "all-rounder" MR Marsh has a worse average at 25.39, while his bowling was all but useless, taking a grand total of 35 wickets in 31 games conceding 44 runs per wicket. The only question now is who is going to get the compromising photographs of the selectors that the Marsh Bros. were given by Shane "Figjam" Watson? Who, by the way, still holds the world's record for the most number of times out in the 40's and 90's. Australia hasn't had a genuine all-rounder since Keith Miller. And they sure could use Smiffy at No.3, just quietly.
The new face of the batting lineup, Will Pucovski is an interesting sort of character; the Good Lady Wife says he'll be popular with the Ladies, he suffered a nervous breakdown while scoring 243 for Vic v WA in the Shield, then took a break to deal with his demons, and he's also had a habit of being donged on the bonce by fast bowling too many times and being ruled out with concussion on more than one occasion. He's now reportedly been heavily reminded of the No.1 coaching tip for young batsmen..."watch the ball". And "Pucks" is not yet 21. Good luck to the kid, he'll need it.
You'll remember Perth as a low, slow [match average run-rate? 2.69] quirky aberration in the uncharted territory of a new ground where the curator could do little more than put the pitch out of its misery with the heavy roller, while the Boxing Day Test was just plain baffling. Only two wickets had fallen by lunch on the second grinding day, then 15 bit the dust on the third. My Spy at The Ground shot through a telegraph message at stumps that day in Melbourne "Can someone please tell me WTF happened today?" Nup.
Did note that during the Sydney test, MJ Clarke said on Indian television that Cheteshwar Pujara reminded him of Brian Lara and Sachin Tendulkar. Hello? Has the great man gone mad? Has he been looking at an entirely different player than me? What kind of drugs are you on Pup? What ever they are - don't want them. Or is he just pandering to his teeming legions of newfound TV fans? More likely. Mr Grand Poobah Sir is not even remotely in the same league as those two legends of the game, not by a very long shot - you never hear anything about his style & grace at the crease, because he's got none. He's known as the New Wall for a reason - in reference to his predecessor Rahul "The Wall" Dravid. Ian Chappelli was quoted as saying after Pujabs had tonked up his big ton in Sydney, "he is the best blunter of any bowling attack in the world today". Chetters is just about the most mind-numbing player to watch, and he encapsulated his view of the game on interview after his SCG hundred saying "my job is to score runs, and that's all that matters to me". If only DJ Trump! knew about the New Wall as a cost effective solution to his current difficulties. Purajra could stand on the Mexican border with bat in hand, and there would be no way in the world he'd let any Mexicans, let alone Chinamen, through his defences, he'd just flick 'em all away to the leg side and roll 'em over the boundary.
A personal note of contrition here; all good intentions and genuine attempts to see Test cricket at HQ this year were yet again thwarted at every turn.
The fifth day of the game dawned bleak here in Sydney's Armpit and stayed that way all day. There was a wash of an all pervading grey, as a low cloud cover hung over the megalopolis, and first thing the GLW said to me was "mmm...the light's not looking good". A summer sea fog had drifted in from the coast, meeting moist air rolling off the mountains, and the really bloody annoying result was a fine 'mizzle' - the air misty and the ground damp - but it's not actually raining. Not much cricket had been played anyway since a memorable third day [weatherwise, only], as Straya's batting collapsed in the extreme 38 degree heat...then a swarm of small powerful thunderstorms swept over town, the mercury dropped 15 degrees as a Southerly Buster blew thru', and some parts got two inches in the rain gauge. Prior to that, the care factor in watching the most boring batsman in the known world poke and scratch around for the first two days was less than zero, plus the ground would have been swarming with flies it was so fookin' hot. Call me weak if you like, a "fair-weather fan" [like all Sydneysiders], but that was that.
Called off after tea on "moving day" with India's 600+ on a belter a no shit winning score as thunderbolts and lightning very very frightening boomed and flashed all over the Emerald City as if we were in the wet season tropics. Hardly any play was possible on the fourth day due in most part to the poor light, and not a ball was bowed on the mizzly fifth. A "weather-ruined" test match as far as the Swami Army goes - they wuz dead-set robbed blind of certain victory in the dead rubber - but they went absolutely apeshit on Royal Antler anyway, in the knowledge that the coveted Border-Gavaskar Trophy was already in the dilly bag at 2-1; the first time these Indian gentlemen [with the notable exception of their Captain Kunting King Kohli, to whom the honorific does not apply] had ever won a series, ever, in the Wide Brown Land in 70 odd years of trying. And in the final paralysis, all it took to do it was the suspension of the Strayan top order.
As for the Australian "B" side, well, after being asked to follow on for the first time in Sydney in 31 years, they were miraculously saved by gloom. Nuff said.
An unsatisfactory end to an unsatisfactory start to the first double-header test season in yonks. Simply can't remember the last time a Test match was scheduled for the third day to be played on Australia Day [not in Adelaide tho', that "tradition" is so long gone now it might as well be back in the Dark Ages], let alone a Test in February. Cripes! Who knows what The Lankan Filling Station will dish up at the Gabba and at Manuka? In the current climate of doom, only The Shadow knows.
