A for Ashes, B for burn

Ashes Tournament for which the world revolves around for England and Australia. All non-Ashes cricket is merely an extended warm-up. Ringed in the diary of every other country as the three-month block where they can score 700 for 1 in a 50-over game and be point-blank ignored by the world media because it clashed with a rain-affected draw between Australia and the Queen's Under-11 Ladies XI. Despite the fact that one team usually pulls the pants down off the other, the hype machine judders to life around the time that the confetti is swept up from the previous series.

Waugh, Steve Australian captain who sweats acid rain. Well known for shining a giant spotlight on just how awful his opposition were during the 1990s, he once outscored the whole England team despite having lost both arms and a foot. In his pomp, he managed to pair compact batting with a stare that gives more children nightmares than Freddie Krueger did. He has also managed to become the only successful Ashes captain of all time not to join the commentary gravy train.

Urn Battered, ugly receptacle that would have been taken to the tip the last time the MCC cleaned out their back cupboard, had it not been for Australia and England fawning over it. Watch as grown men get emotional about the remnants of a manky old bail, which probably aren't in there anyway. Also the focal point of the most hilarious winner's ceremony in the world, as the successful captain tries to look manly and heroic while waving a pepper pot around.

Bodyline Interminable argument revolving around a tactic used in 1932. Once upon a time, if the bowler didn't wobble down some half-volleys, then shake the hand of the batsman every time he was punched through the covers for four, it was considered a declaration of all-out war. England rolled up in Australia with the single aim of killing every batsman who came across their path with short-pitched bowling. And they still try to play the innocent to this day, while the allegedly hard-nosed Aussies still whinge about it, happily ignoring the Brett Lee beamer that has almost just skulled an opening batsman.

Botham, Ian Happy-go-lucky, all-conquering superhero turned dour, miserable pundit. The very mention of his name was once enough to make the whole Australian team take up the foetal position. A beast of a cricketer in his youth, his hold over them was such that he continued to run through them into the '90s, despite sporting the most magnificent of beer bellies. Now likely to be seen on a soapbox complaining about any number of things, he has an uncanny knack of mocking a tactic around five minutes before it works.