As I relaxed in front of the cricket coverage and noted Ricky Ponting electing to bat first at the very ground they reduced England to 72-6 at lunch after the first morning session a mere year ago, I thought to myself 'I probably wouldn't have done that, Ricky.'
I'm not the greatest fan of the Australian Cricket team, as from the delicious 1986-87 tour until the recent resurgence of English cricket, the in-between time was a barren desert for English Ashes fans. Merv Hughes, Craig McDermott, Glenn McGrath, that Wayne Shaun bloke... too many tormentors, too little backbone (if anyone reading knows Mike Atherton, tell him Glenn McGrath has worked out how to do him over).
Given my dislike of the Baggy Green Roos, I had a feeling today might bite that hairy backside of Punter Ponting, it was a good feeling. It is all the more enjoyable to be able to cheer on a team against Australia without really needing to worry what the result is and Pakistan, by changing from Afridi's captaincy to Butt's, would surely be a more formidable opposition than the festival of batting ineptitude on show last week from both teams?
Sure enough, Katich and Watson (who seems to have fooled the Aussies into thinking he is an appropriate Test opening bat) were back in the hutch and Ponting was wobbling. Twenty odd for two and it was already a ropey old decision to bat first, and then the ball rattled into Ponting's shins in front of middle. I am not sure whether it was the utter plumness of it I enjoyed most or that Ponting was so done by it he was walking before the finger came up. I'll be calling my kippers Punter from now on as I like them done up just like that.
Being Australia, they had to reach lunch at 73-6, one run better than they did us for at Headingly a year ago, but we eventually made 102. Punter's mob were skittled for just 88.
Yeah, I probably wouldn't have done that, Ricky.
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