Pakistan v England Series: Controlled Chaos

In engineering, most students are taught Chaos Theory at some stage of their degree. My time came somewhere in the middle of my final year. Back then I was too rogue a student to get a grip on it, which to be fair, does not require much brains to fathom. Five years later, during my last month home trip, I was sitting with my father watching the highlights of the 4^th day’s play of the second Test. When the highlights finished, my father-- who has been an academic for more than 45 years-- asked me what I knew about the theory and how the English capitulation of 72 all out could be related to it. Quizzed and being only able to tell the basic concept I knew of the theory, I gave in and requested him to surprise me. What transpired then is a gift I shall forever treasure.

The sensitivity to the conditions in which an orderly system finds itself in is an essential element to induce chaos. It is supplemented by the Butterfly Effect which represents the reliance of a minor change resulting in major disturbance in the system’s state; kind of what Saeed Ajmal did with his ‘Teesra’ – which to everyone, except the English XI, never seemed to exist; and which in reality is an innocuous change playing with their heads, the modern cricketing equivalent of Spacey’s greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn’t exist.

Moreover, the sensitivity of seemingly orderly English batsmen to quality spin and the ineptitude to control the damage caused by it since the very first session till the 33rd session of the series, proved to be a fair example of Poincare recurrence-- the duration required to return to the initial state. Add to it the consistent pattern through which it happened makes a good case for the exemplification of chaos theory.

Control of chaos is another aspect of chaos theory. It involves applying a tiny perturbation in the system to obtain a desirable dynamical state. This control also helps in synchronization of the chaotic systems which becomes clear in any example where two different systems start from initial points and then end up being different exponentially. More like Ajmal with his usual variety psyching out the current best top seven of the world right from day one, along with the bamboozling by a till-then novel Rehman and the criminally underrated Hafeez. The end product was a camouflaged destruction of the powerhouse of the game.

Logical prognosis was defied through a methodological framework to madness, time and again during the series; whether it was running havoc in a batting line-up boasting matches and runs ten times their own or by setting up fields that would force the likes of Kevin Pietersen to play village cricket shots. Fractal repetition of planned out modes of targeting their preys were executed, typified by certain little things that had disproportionate effects; prompting the flapping of the butterfly wings. A colossal mindfuck, safe to say, was triggered. A mindfuck of sorts with which Gene Hackman and his paranoia in The Conversation could concur-- executed, in an alternate form, by a number one ranked English team.

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Expecting the historically spin-handicapped England to read Ajmal off the hand was always going to be a Herculean task, but the staggering aspect was their inability to read Rehman and Hafeez’s conventional finger spin and the indecision whether to play all three of them forward or back. The minimum of feet usage was another abject demeanour of the English top order culminating in a regular procession of wickets. The failure to develop counters against spin and the schooling of the top ranked batsmen through it, had enough material to produce a DVD enriched with comical errors.

The fact that Pakistan came back twice in the series from the brink of seemingly dead positions bears testimony to their character for which alone, they deserved to be the worthy victors. At 54/4 in the 2^nd innings at Abu Dhabi with still 16 runs behind England’s lead, Strauss and co had them under the cosh with Monty and Swann on top of their game and with the top Pakistani batsmen back in the pavilion. At that point, came the grind that for many Pakistanis has to be the defining phase of this series and one which epitomizes all the goodness in this team. With a mere 30 Test caps between them, Azhar Ali and Asad Shafiq sewed together a finely composed bond that, for the situation and the eventual outcome, brought Pakistan back in the game in a pretty enthralling fashion.

The second instance had even more promise and pride attached with it. Having been 44/7 in the first morning of the 3^rd Test, few would have taken the stand against the betting market. But right then started a comeback of immense proportions which would ultimately end up joining the holy pantheon of Calcutta and Karachi. What unearthed there session after session was the naked exhibition of fortitude and mettle, a batting lesson in form of the contrasting hundreds of Younis and Azhar, a defence of the target by careful disintegration of the opposition which was already mentally shot to monstrous measure.

In retrospect, to call this clean sweep and all these numbers and records - which are Salvador Dali-esque in nature-- a product of the seminal metamorphosis Pakistan cricket went through in the last 30 months, won’t be an exaggeration. To have risen from the debris in which they would find themselves periodically, most of it due to their own doing, in such an overwhelming manner says a lot about the current crop and the men who have been in charge of them. To have shut the most venomous of critics and strongest of doubters through a constant wave of progress only instills and strengthens the faith that this is a side which believes in itself, does not only weave moments of inspirations together and knows the method to madness, something rarely associated with the ‘mercurial’ and ‘unpredictable’ tagged Pakistan of past years.

Call it method to madness, even if there is a slightest of it in Misbah's men. Or call it controlled chaos. History's equilibrium has been disturbed.

- This post was first published at The Sight Screen.

A sad day for the authentic man's game

This is not about raising your flags up for feminism, neither it is about women rights. It is not about putting it to the misogynists and anything that demeans the gentleman's game. This is about trampling every principle, every notion and every manly aesthetic that this beautiful game stands for. It is a sheer loss of a sizable faith in humanity and this game for many cricket payers, followers and enthusiasts.

Let's be honest, the very grace of this sports has been dented today. The appointment of Stuart Barbie Broad as England's T20 captain is an utter humiliation on immense levels. It is nothing less than picking George W. Bush as your Bentley's chauffeur, embracing Kamran Akmal as your butler or buying Asif Ali Zardari as your dog. Here is a serial petulant, a lunatic twat and a shameless absconder who has been chosen to take command of the men of the land from where the game originated. Above all, a human being who has been wanted for years for her crimes against masculinity has been handed the job. And with credible candidates like Bell, KP and others deserving the honor way before her, the very notions of merit and justice have been degraded. This is beyond sane human comprehension and exceeds many of the what-the-fuck moments in cricket.

And today it is for T20, God knows how much this game will suffer, how many mental and phsyical casualties occur and what exactly would transpire if this miscreant is tipped to be leading England in other formats sometime later. One can only pray that more dreadful days don't come.

The only sense one can make out of this diabolical decision is that ECB and Giles Clarke have started importing the C-grade ganja from Ijaz fucking Butt on cheap prices. Also, they may have given in to all the feminazis who never stopped moaning about how the men version of this game needs an incentive for them to have their voices and agendas heard. There is another school of thought which believes that this decision is a shining example for all those fucking wankers who have their faith in their daddies and their name taking them to places. Chris papa Broad has ultimately done it for his girl, after shielding him for years being as a shambolic and disgraceful match referee.

Moreover, few people have also termed it as an effect of the incessant pressure English men used to put on ECB about how their birds don't take interest in this game anymore. When there is a religious and maddening devotion to football in the country and overload of manly disguised cunts such as the Ferdinands, Rooneys and the Nevilles, cricket has been taking a grave battering for several years now and almost all the female folk has given in to footy. Hence, the tactic of having a vaginal scum and an allegedly promiscuous woman leading the present World Champions in T20 format should influence more viewing and work for the betterment of this aspect. We can only assume.

Having said that, 5th May 2011 is and will be embedded in history as an extremely sad day in English cricket, Notts county and the game. It's a damning day for all the sports in the world, honesty speaking. This day shall be remembered for the clamping down by one of cricket's central authorities on it's country's youth and their enthusiasm, for running out of inspirations to drag them in the game and to tarnish it's elegance. Those who are responsible for it will have to answer for this one day. They will be prosecuted for such a crime against the upcoming generations of English cricket and for the conscience of this game.

And this decision, been announced at the perennial home of cricket, that is Lord's is a shame in itself.

Let the mourning begin.

p.s. Anyone reading this who is unsure of Barbie Broad's gender should know she has endorsed her sexual orientation many a times. Here's just one of the proofs: Barbie accepts he is a eunuch. (Click the link). Since it is in Punjabi, the literal translation is: "If you're not a girl, you are surely an eunuch." -- yeah mate I agree I think...

Late addition: Barbie's official statements in the morning presser:

1. "I vow to inspire eunuchs, females and castrated men into cricket. I do have a vagina."

2. "I'll make sure the very spirit of the gentleman's game is ripped apart. I shall live upto the stakes of me being the serial absconder."

In loving memory: Mohammad Amir

Broken wings, clipped

It is restful, tragedy, because one knows that there is no more lousy hope left. You know you're caught, caught at last like a rat with all the world on its back. And the only thing left to do is shout -- not moan, or complain, but yell out at the top of your voice whatever it was you had to say. What you've never said before. What perhaps you don't even know till now. - Jean Anouilh

Tragedies are painful to bear. Even more so when they are accompanied with a misery-ridden letdown. They hit with a force so instantaneous and ferocious that enduring them becomes a strenuous battle. A coherent mix of self-denial, shredded emotions and an essence of failure instills in you and it takes time for you to absorb all of it till the reality sinks in eventually. I don't really know what exactly to write here. I have been trying to bring myself to it but I just keep losing the gist of all that has been coalescing with my thought processes. Maybe, its my inability to deal with a loss of something dear, be it in the form of sports; or perhaps the interminable suffering that comes with it.

One can term the story of Mohammad Amir as The calamity of cricket or anything one could relate his catastrophic narrative with, I know it would not suffice. Even all the Shakespearean tragedies feel mellow somehow when I compare them with his. And some of them even have a second coming. But at the end of the day, that is mostly fiction and his is an actuality. However, I can't help but wish the truth that circumscribes all this is stranger than the reality which has surfaced. The inscription on his cricket epitaph has potentially been done, ultimately terminating an embracing attachment on personal level. 

So what precisely is it that makes a person like me take him with such reverence?
His prodigious yet scarcely believable life story? Him being a product of a village unknown to the world, the life threatening dengue fever when he was 15 and having glucose drips 24 hours a day, the cricket upbringing under local coaches and the rest that's related to him coming into the international scene. For most people it maybe, but for me, it was just a filling for the backdrop of what was to be a scintillating affiliation for couple of cricket seasons. Maybe, a simple Wikipedia entry of him may help to complete the thorough picture. It was the Wasim Akram analogy, yes. 

Reliving the legend

If the selection of Amir by Wasim in 2007 for the England U-19 tour was anything to go by, watching him in the 2009 T20 World Cup was the point where he became a subject of genuine interest. In all honesty, it was this reverse swing spell (into 6 mins) in Dunedin, late 2009, that cast the demeanor of permanence in him. Moving it both ways and with remarkable precision, he had already learnt to make the old ball talk like a gnarled old pro, alongwith a shrewd control over the new one. Even the old masters of reverse swing would have been proud of it.  It was mesmerizing to watch and there was a widespread belief already that the cricket world has the next great southpaw after Wasim in making. Till this day, he had been giving hints of what he had to offer, be it the 2009 T20 World Cup in England where he was unearthed for the first time or the test series against Sri Lanka, but this was special. It was simply Wasim-like. This did it for me.

MCG was set alight the very next month with a five-for and made the Aussies notice him, and who better than them to evaluate a rising star in the game? He was easily the lone positive of a shambolic Pakistan tour down under. The T20 World Cup in West Indies and Asia Cup followed, and he was constantly getting polished and rising up the rating scale.

Then came the English summer which was being tipped as the most significant in Pakistani cricket history. With multiple series lined up against two of the world's best sides, he could not have asked for a more grand stage to play on. It started at Edgbaston in the T20 and I was there to watch the kid. He spearheaded the attack in presence of Akhtar and Gul, and we knew we had the best fast bowling line up in the world, and it sure was. Watching him knock those stumps and sending the Aussies back was an absolute treat. They were knocked off the perch with a series sweep 2-0. It was sweet mayhem.

On the electronic scoreboard at Headingley.
Photo by Masuud Qazi

And now it was time for the real examination of his monumental cricketing talent - white clothes, red duke cherry, overcast English summer and a world class  opposition. He didn't take long to make waves, sending one exocet after another, demolishing the Aussies at Headingley with such command that they were on their knees and every single wicket of his still remains a treasured memory. Who would forget the consecutive cleaning up of Smith and Johnson? It was a relentless display of an outrageous and overwhelming talent. It was sheer raw flair and natural brilliance. Pakistan won a test match after 15 years against Australia and he was the fulcrum of that victory. And I was in the stands seeing him speak in the post-match ceremony. At my cricket club, folks of all ages were talking about his genius; it was soothing and it all felt like a perfect script for the cricket summer.

By experience and numbers in years and matches, he was dominating, outwitting and seducing men into batting blunders who were years and, in some cases, decades senior to him. It felt he was doing poetry with that ball so masterfully that it would move in whichever direction where he wanted it to. His intimidation of the opposition was so brutally awe-striking that you could be sure it was a divine wonder to behold. It was so visible that the world was his oyster. He had lit up a cricket summer in one hemisphere of the planet few months back and he was doing it in an even better way in the other just a few months later. His name was being inked in the record books and was anticipated to write them for years to come. He was blowing opposition batting line ups, be it The Oval or Lord's, with merciless zest. On track to become the poster boy of world cricket and of many a bedrooms walls, he had the world at his feet.

There was nothing he couldn't wish for and do

Television commercials and product endorsements were all lined up for him. Kids and men were awestruck with his precocious talent and mastery at such a tender age. Women of all age were going crazy on him and he was the latest obsession of Pakistanis. Wasim bhai was being made proud with every performance of his. Everything was as perfect as it could be in the world encircling an 18 year old prodigy.

Then disaster struck at the very home of cricket. Amidst a surreal spell of fast bowling in which he sliced and diced the English top order in a manner rarely seen in modern cricket, he committed a cardinal sin which was to have severe repercussions later on, ones which would never make him perform on any cricketing platform practically. Maybe I will fail to address what and why he committed the dreadful career suicide by overstepping that white line though the world may talk forever what it was. Whether it was the fallacy of a few thousand quids casting the devilish spell of whose ramifications his fledgling head couldn't decipher, only Amir knows. Or was it the moronic grooming of the dirty bastard Salman But and the serial absconder Asif under both of whom he was during those damned days and horribly became a prey of, every citation seems secondary. The mind goes numb when he and his aura are envisaged. He came across as a harmless soul bent only to perform at his best in those flannels. Like a schoolboy who was punctual, tidy and efficient in his grades and extra-curricula. Like a young folklore hero destined to achieve greatness and creating a unparalleled legacy. And somehow everything fell apart.

That Saturday of August 28 will forever haunt; it just has too much of pain buried in it. Apart from the day being a devastating one for Pakistan cricket performance-wise, the night theoretically broke the psychedelic bond between him and me, the music of another coming of Wasim Akram died for me, and my revived hallucinogenic passion for the game took a massive hammering. Practically, all this culminated on February 5th, 2011. It signaled the heartbreak for an intimate love affair of the sincerest form which had connections on a spiritual level and subsequently reopened cracks which will bleed perpetually.

Amir, I will be deadly honest with you. I have tried a lot in the last 5 months or so of giving my mind the maximum luxury of digression off you, conjuring countless thoughts related to the abundance of cricketing talent Pakistan has and that there won't ever be a stoppage of world class fast bowlers production but here my mind ceases to imagine; and that is when I make miserable attempts that there maybe another Amir waiting in the ranks. No, its just not practically possible. I know it, we all know it who felt you cast those holy essences. You were special to the world for what you were. It may get over and forget you, and never allow you a go at redemption but buddy, you will remain dear to me. As dear as anything in cricket I could relate to. Thanks for giving the immortal memories and for making me and millions relive Waz.

So long, champ.

-

This BBC interview added a day later.
This one isn't easy. For you, I'll just ask to look into his eyes. Maybe he really doesn't know what's happened and is happening (in another interview to Geo news, his state was similar- shell shocked). This is a heartbreak of a lifetime.

- This post was first published here at Clear Cricket.

Inglorious Bastards - Stuart Broad.

 Photo courtesy: BoredCricket

He is the daddy's boy. He is a lunatic arsehole. He is cricket's Barbie.

He is Stuart Christopher John Broad.

He may have an Ashes 5-for, he may have scored a test century batting at no. 9 at Lord's and he may have been walloped for 6 sixes in an over, but all that is to follow below is bloody miles away from his cricketing credentials.

So how do we start this?

Do we put a finger on his blondness and blame his acrimonious self and on-field bastardization on him being a towheaded? Probably no, because that would be demeaning the sane and sensible  lot of that light-colored hair folks out there. But yes, in a convivial sense, we can take it.

Wait, I guess we can do a bit better with couple of real life scenarios.

• Bet we all have come across those gawky co-workers or classmates who besides being efficient at their work are caustic enough to be able to repel others, and are always adopting the one-man-show route which ultimately makes them no less than unwanted human beings around.

• One of those long string of knobhead club level cricketers who you have the misfortune of playing with or against and who think of themselves being way better than what they are in reality. Or the kind of teammate who, whenever gets clobbered around the park, forces you to chuckle and you say "You deserved that, twat" under your breath.

Howdy Broady!

Okay, lets put this straight. Broady is a serial petulant and that too a grouchy one. He is a natural dimwit of the highest echelon with a doped attitude that should make even the grandest of blockheads proud. He never fails to come across as a little Mervesque chuntering under his breath so the batsman thinks he is a psychopath rather than a little spoilt toddler.

"Zip that mouth, will ya?"

It would be an understatement to say Broady boy makes a fool of himself by his heroics on the field, instead what makes him an intolerable rascal is his constant debating of decisions with umpires along with his berating of fielders who had the temerity not to stop a boundary off his awful bowling (ironic when he's probably the worst fielder in the team). The former is a pretty old trend of his now, with some memorable incidents (West Indies, South Africa tours in 2009-10) of squabbling and bickering with the men in-charge on the field, and amusingly, getting away with it all the time. Nasser Hussain recently put formally the manner Barbie has been pushing the limits of idiocy and misconduct for quite some time.

If this is not enough to tick you off, lets move on. Oh wait, lets have a quick laugh by watching the following clip.

He got ya, didn't he? Alright, as much as the ridiculous appeal was some show, the way he folded his arms and covered his face like a prepubescent girl not being given her doll, has to be one of the most dramatics acts ever pulled off in middle of a cricket field.

Ball tampering in South Africa?

One fine January morning in Cape Town, Broady boy thought of fielding the ball with his spikes on it, instead of flexing his back and picking it up with his hands (Hey, bending 77 inches is not a norm for a slouch). Amazingly, it came as a shocker for the plonker that attempting to alter the condition of the cricket ball is an offense of level 2.2.9 according to ICC code of conduct. Probably, when he is done with his shoddy on-field heroics, he might one day come out of the curtain and pull off a Trescothick and tell us what he used to do with the cherry in his playing days.

Its another story that South Africans, at the end of it, did not pursue the complaint they made initially, but then we all thought this nincompoop will surely try correcting himself and turn up as a better product in future.

And THEN HE DID THIS!

This incident should not be new to any cricket follower reading this, but lets just briefly analyze this insane prickly act by Barbie.

Right, so what was said about this was that Broady was apparently  a bit 'frustrated' by the defiant knock of Zulqarnain and hence, decided to let the ball rip at him. We know some people dared to compare this to the Jones/Hayden incident in Ashes 05' which was largely nonsensical considering the stature of those two players, state of the match and above all, the manner of apologies given by the perpetrator. The half-hearted apology given here by Broad was more like saying to the batsman, "Oh, did it hit ya? Soz mate, fuck off." And you would have thought he would have been punished for this hideous stunt (and fracturing Zulqarnain's finger) a bit more than the formality-driven 50% match fee fine. Nope, sorry.

One wonders if Zulqarnain had walked down the track and wrapped his bat around Broad's head in a reciprocal act of "frustration", what would have transpired? Surely he would have got at least a 2 match fine along with the procession of bashing in the media, no? But, Broady boy belongs to well you-know-where, and is a son of, you-know-who, so lets try to absorb this too. However, this incident did revive the typical Broad snobbishness that the game has unfortunately got accustomed to lately.

Senior Broad (L), Junior Broad (R).

Like Father, Like Son.

The irony is that dearest pops, Chris Broad, who has been an ICC referee for some years now, has often defended his brat for his on-field antics, basically terming him passionate, rather than doing a bit of a rap on his son's knuckles to remind him to mind his self next time. Hence no wonder, Barbie Broad gets away with all the arguing with umpires and proving the definition of a hoodlum every now and then.


So much for a man who was renowned to be an off-the-hook character in his playing days himself (Hint: Once Chris Broad refused to leave the crease after being given out by the umpire in a match against Pakistan). Daddy Broad should have groomed his kid in a better way and probably not sent him to  Melbourne in his teenage summers to play for Victorian North Division, which he credits for his boy-to-man transformation. On a second thought, perhaps spoiling the child is a family tradition of Broads until the day he becomes a Super Brat.

Cheerio, Stuey!

Listen bud, you know we don't like you neither do we like your stunts which you perform in the middle. There have been voices raised against you in a severe tone (deserved ones) from time to time in your short career. Yet, there is an appreciation of your cricket talent which one believes can do you good and England proud.
I guess you get the picture here (only if you transplant a brain in the upper storey), don't you? Get your shit together, stop behaving like a miscreant, get rid of your preening and play the game fairly. And then who knows, one fine day we all will start liking you.

Having done all this rhetoric bloody rant, we firmly believe Barbie Broady fully deserves to  be one of our Inglorious Bastards of the game.

And for an ending note, this should serve you well, eh Broady boy? (The game of cricket will forever remain indebted to Yuvraj Singh for this)

And since he is the famous Barbie of world cricket, the following should give a lighter tone to all this rant.

Comments, feedback and even hate-speech against this piece is welcomed (We want to know whether there is any love for Barbie in this world).

A neutral Ashes perspective

"The Ashes is massive. It has colossal importance. It is the marvel of test cricket. It is one of the greatest sporting rivalries."

How often have you heard all of the above phrases? I bet many a times. And not more so than the recent few years when they have been a two-way road instead of the Australian domination for nearly 2 decades. For a neutral fan like me, it indeed is a must-follow, and it becomes more of a wonder being in England where cricket hardly ever dominates the sports section of the newspapers. Come Ashes, it takes a front seat like none (even a World Cup of cricket has not much significance as go the tabloids and electronic media). Yes, it is of such prominence.

Here, we will make an attempt of analysing the major factors and chances of both the teams, who I have followed pretty closely in the last few years, and not more than the summer that has just gone by.

The Poms

So starting with England, who does not know that this Ashes is being tipped as the best shot for England in the last 20 years when it has been played Down Under. With a formidable batting line up, which consists of few of the most impressive stroke players of the present era, and almost all of them in good rhythm, they should come across as a hard-boiled unit for the Aussie bowling line up. Moreover, their bowling attack is being deemed as more sound than it has been in the previous visits to Australia, both quality and form wise. With a worthy pace attack and a world-class off spinner, it is acknowledged as one of best test attacks in the game today.

Furthermore, the quality of management and coaching they have, has been of high caliber and has resulted in considerable success in recent times. The Flower effect is a massive factor. He has given England a face lift which in recent history has been paralleled by only few world over. Apart from his first series which England lost to West Indies, he has been in-charge of a commendable run which has seen them win against West Indies, Australia, Bangladesh and Pakistan and draw with South Africa. The T20 World Cup honor and a serious force in ODI are other medals of success he has helped England to. With Graham Gooch, David Saker and Mushtaq Ahmed as his wingmen, they form a safe umbrella for the England team.

For all those English fans in a fix and deliberating the night vigils, let me assure, this one is as close as you will ever get to retaining that little urn Down Under, and you know it well. So much so that this winter and Christmas can easily be taken to another level by your lads if they stick in there. And as the pundits and critics are putting it, this should be the time when the Aussie aura is ultimately going to give in.

The Aussies

Indeed, Aussies are struggling, or let me put it fairly, in a mess. Their top batters are basically nowhere when it comes to the form factor. They have not had the prettiest of phases in world cricket of late. Even their bench strength does not seem to possess the quality we have been accustomed to for the last couple of decades. Yet, to take their batsmen as walking wickets would be delusional. Remember, Form is temporary, Class is permanent. After all the years of analyzing this game, if you are unable to comprehend this phrase, one would really think of you as a Walter Mitty.

Yes, Aussie bowling lineup is probably the feeblest it has been over the few decades. They have been unable to dislodge even the most fragile batting line ups as easily they used to till the last few years, yet to think their bowling does not hold the potential to put up a serious challenge, even on their own decks, would be too immature.

Now for the man who probably matters the most in this duel and for whom this series could define his legacy and his greatness. For sure, he has struggled to put up ever since the Warnes, McGraths, Gilchrists, Haydens and Langers bid farewell to the game and without doubt, his tactical moves, shrewdness and composure have been criticized many a times. Yet, to think he and Australia would be a walk over under the pump they are in, should not be taken as granted at any cost.

Make no bones about it, Australia in its backyard is a beast which hardly gets tamed and even the last few years (post-McGrath, Warne) which has seen them field their most fragile bowling line ups, they have been able to put up decent performances, and baring the series loss to South Africa, they have remained unbeaten at home. Their batting has the firepower capable of dominating any bowling attack in the game. It is just a matter of time they come good and get their flow back.

A personal take

See, I'll be mighty honest here. My head says it will be England but my heart has a drift towards Australia. The former for their consistency, confidence and the aplomb they are carrying into this series, and the latter for the aura they can back on, quality of certain players and this being played in their own hood. Australia is cornered, lets put it simply. Ponting is at a critical crossroad, as a great of the game and as a captain. What more can you ask for the Aussies to know where they are standing? What more can you question the Australianism with? Nothing more, one would believe. This is exactly where the legacy of a great cricketing nation will be under observation, hence making it a prospect of a fascinating viewing.

So, brace yourself for the next few weeks. This is going to be a spectacle, trust me, even if the standard and quality might not be the same as one would expect. It would be a battle that has a lot at stake, not only for Australia but for England too. As for neutral cricket followers, it should be charming enough to keep you glued to your tv sets. Its all set for you to get enthralled.

Let the show begin!