The Surfer

I was staring at big broken window, with pretty much everyone in the ground looking at me because it had made such a noise. It didn't look good, obviously: run out, then a smashed window, but the problem was that people were putting two and two together and coming up with five. The first thing I saw was a replay on the dressing-room TV of Straussy getting up from his seat on the balcony, looking across to see the damage and then shaking his head like a disappointed headmaster.

You want a personal dressing room in the sheds stocked with the finest champagne, fresh flowers, a fruit platter and a bowl of red M&Ms? The Krug Grande Cuvee or the Perrier-Jouet? You will only take batting practice on alternate days, field in the slips and have a hotel room far enough from Shane Watson's that you never have to hear his guitar? You can have your own hotel.

I think the retirement of Mike Hussey has hit Australia hard. It is staggering he could not stay on for two more Ashes series. There must be something other than a cricketing reason for him to decide he cannot hang on for another year. If the environment was healthy and enjoyable he would still be playing. There is something not right about the Aussies because he is a good man of the game.

It sometimes seems as if Root is taking part in a school sports day rather than an international match, just because he takes such obvious pleasure in what he is doing. And his slight shoulders, smooth cheeks, and spindly arms make him look even younger than he is. Then he bats with such puppyish enthusiasm, always bouncing on his heels and bounding along for his runs as though chasing a roll of Andrex down the wicket.

Behind the doors that have been closed by the security chiefs, is domestic cricket in Pakistan failing to unearth talented youngsters? Or are they appearing, but not being selected for the national side?

I mean, this seems so obvious that it truly amazes me that Dhoni took the shares. What was he thinking? How could he imagine that this transaction would not become public, that questions would not be asked? Or -- and this is worse -- does he not know, or care, about this thing called conflict of interest? And -- worse still -- is this true of most of us? This is the thought that drives that mention of a "low point" above. If Dhoni, and most of us, don't give much of a toss about conflicts of interest, I can't suppress a sense of dread about larger implications. For example, think how insidious and widespread corruption is?

One wishes there was more cricket in India's politics and no politics in India's cricket. But the reality of an insufferably scandalous state in both spheres stares us in the face. The charade in Chennai on June 2 aroused wide public revulsion because of the events in the preceding fortnight, especially against the background of the sordid power struggles by politicians in the Board of Control for Cricket in India (BCCI). Rules on conflict of interests were violated. Charges of corruption involving crores of rupees were not investigated thoroughly enough. One hopes that revulsion at the BCCI's working prompts an effective cure for what is plainly a diseased system which stinks to high heaven.

"In one such match, I was up against a Middlesex club with the great Fred Titmus in it. We were chasing a rather large target and Freddie, a giant of an off spinner, was bowling. I couldn't get a run. I looked around and realised that the only gap was at third man. My shot was pre-meditated, but it connected and went for four," he says. "But Titmus appealed!"

Appealed? "Yes, poor old Freddie. He went wild and pulled his hair out. This was 1964, you see. The umpire told Freddie, 'You got a ball in your hand, he has a bat. He can do whatever he wants with it'. And there, the reverse hit was invented."

Out of the countries that play international cricket, let's not paint a rosy picture here: Zimbabwe essentially broke, Sri Lankan cricket essentially broke, Bangladesh essentially broke or thereabouts, Pakistan, I don't think they're doing very well financially, the West Indies cricket board broke.

At least there was a topical variation on the Johnson theme, as his new hairdo, an ill-advised wet-look comb-over, prompted the chant: "He combs to the left, he combs to the right." Perhaps Australia will have to dismiss this as a bad hair day.

Gayle is box office, impossible to ignore. One minute the seven-footer Mohammad Irfan was troubling him: five uncomfortable dots, whereupon Gayle cracked the sixth ball over the bowler's head - some feat - for six. Then there were the subtler skills of Saeed Ajmal. With men around the bat he sent Gayle on his way and, with Gayle gone, anything was possible. Pakistan lost in the end as they defended an inadequate total but the phrase "cornered tigers" came to mind. This was a long way from the YB40. This was just about as good as it gets.