In affectionate rememberance of Australian Cricket

On 29th August 1882 English cricket was laid to rest when the Australians defeated an English side featuring WG Grace at the Oval. On that day England were bowled out for a meagre 77 runs (I thought the Oval was meant to be a flat batting paradise?). Actually I believe the obituary published in the Sporting Times was far from accurate, during the next 127 years English cricket had many many more low points.

On 23rd August 2009 though Australian cricket was similarly well and truly laid to rest.

I must admit being English and living in Australia I've been a bit coy about predicting the outcome of this ashes series. There was always so much chance to be left with egg on my face. Sure England started well - Monty's miracle in Cardiff, saving us by the skin of our teeth, followed by the superb win at Lords, but I always had a terrible suspicion that something was going to go wrong. Following the rain spoilt game in Birmingham, sure enough Headingly, scene of Botham's heroics in '81 was the moment of England's demise. In the absence of Flintoff and KP even erratic Mitchell Johnson got wickets as we capitulated in traditional English fashion.

And so on to the Oval, the Aussie's spirits lifted, England considering recalling retirees to their dispirited middle order ranks of walking wounded.

In the words of Skinner and Baddiel - we've "seen it all before". Only the rain could save us.

Enter England's new heroes Jonathan Trott (ok perhaps he's English in the strictest sense but who cares) and a revitalised Stuart Broad (he does have a public-schoolboy foppish haircut, but his dad was a decent chap).

But it was still not over. Even with Australia needing to chase down 546 I still had my doubts. The fat lady was clearing her throat but with Ponting at the crease and looking confident I could already imagine the headlines as he steered Australia home with a double century.

Then at around 11.50pm (Canberra time) Fred skimmed the ball at incredible speed and sent one of Ponting's stumps cartwheeling out of the ground. Ricky, the self-styled pantomime villain of the piece was out. Australia's resistance was broken. Fred, despite his aching bones (and enormous ego) had produced a piece of magic. Good had defeated evil. I actually wished the margin that Ponting was out of his ground by had been smaller. It would have made the moment even better. In the end Ponting trudged off with his fat lip and the Australian's succumbed.

Obviously in 18 months time the Australian's will win the first three tests Down Under and reclaim the ashes with consummate ease. England seem to just come on holiday when they come to Australia to play. But for now it's MBEs all round and on to Trafalgar Square - hurrah! The end of the series also means that I can get to bed at a half decent time rather than 1am every morning zzzzzzzzz

(Please note these views are not necessarily a reflection of those of the entire Hickman household)

shot of the series from Prior