The Surfer

On what became his final day at the MCG, Warne made more runs than any of England's XI, which was bowled out for 161. It is doubtful that it would have fared better even if Australia had published its bowling plans in advance, with diagrams and explanatory notes. Few teams in history can have raised expectations and disappointed them on the scale of England this summer.

So how about taking a leaf out of soccer's book and adopting a tier system in which teams are relegated and promoted. One of the reasons why soccer is so popular across the globe is because it operates on this basis. Small countries like Ecuador and Croatia have an opportunity to win World Cup qualifiers and then be "promoted" into the World Cup finals every four years. One way to do this would be to create divisions of countries. Australia, England, India, South Africa and Pakistan and perhaps Sri Lanka would be a natural premier division.

Now Sydney looms, and if there is an echo of the situation from four years ago, when England went on to win the final Test in grand style, then at least they had given Australia a scare in the penultimate match. They would have rattled them more this time if they had hidden round the corner from the dressing room and gone "Boo!" as Ricky Ponting took his side on to the field.

When the electronic scoreboard flashed up "Congratulations Shane Warne: 700 Wickets" yesterday, the coughing and spluttering emanating from the commentary booth were the sounds of an indignant man choking on chocolate sponge. You could strap Bill Frindall into a barber's chair and threaten him with a fate worse than death, which would be a stick of shaving foam, a razor and a bottle of aftershave.

Throughout Warne's incomparable career, it usually has been a matter of when, not if. This was even more so on the big stage and occasion, which he has always relished. This was Boxing Day, his last - an all-star crowd, including Brian Lara, an Ashes Test and an obdurate opponent; Warne could no more resist this moment than he could be resisted.

Shane Warne's 700th Test wicket belongs not only at the very front of the cricket history books but should be placed prominently in a textbook too. Fittingly, it was a classic example of the exquisite and difficult art of legbreak bowling, the revival of which is the priceless legacy he will leave the game when he bows out next week. The master craftsman pitched his stock delivery on a full length just outside left-hander Andrew Strauss's off stump and watched in glee and satisfaction as it spun challengingly but not extravagantly past the bat to strike middle stump.

Ten more days of Test cricket remain before Shane Warne and Glenn McGrath put aside their baggy green caps. Not since Laurel and Hardy has the breaking of a partnership between a burly man and a skinny fellow caused such a rumpus. Together they have taken more than 1600 wickets for their country. Whenever the game was afoot, the captain could throw them the ball confident that the tide was about to turn. Neither man ever retreated. Neither was a champion by decree. They pursued greatness, recognised it, embraced it, used it.

The MCG hosted the first three Test matches, and seven of the first 11, all Australia versus England. The history of the ground is synonymous with the history of the game. Today, the MCG will stage its 100th Test, by blissful coincidence also Australia versus England. Necessarily in cricket, a century is an occasion for pause, roars, plaudits and applause. Now the MCG is a citadel, walled, turreted and bejewelled, filling the city's eastern horizon. Then, it was little more than an enclosure in the Police Paddocks, with a grandstand, but no scoreboard, telephone or electric lighting.

Everywhere we see the signs of a creaking vessel, shipping water, not knowing where it is going. Although Steve Harmison knows where he is going soon: back to England. The announcement of his retirement from one-day cricket - three months before the World Cup - confirms our misgivings about the pace bowler. For him cricket seems to be a job rather than a passion and he has decided to go part-time.

It was a splendid day to bury bad news. By announcing such an undistinguished one-day squad on the day the greatest cricketer of the modern game retired, the selectors clearly hoped it would slip under the radar. By and large it did.

I had played only a handful of Sheffield Shield matches for NSW before getting the call-up to play for Australia against New Zealand at the WACA in 1993. I met half of the team for the first time when I turned up in Perth. I played against Allan Border the match before against Queensland, now he was my captain.