When Katto was Santa

Ricky Ponting gathered the troops around him in a huddle.

"Right, you blokes," said the Aussie captain. "Now, as you may have heard, myself and some others in the leadership group have decided to do away with Secret Santa this year."

There were murmurings of discontent from the rank and file, and anguished sobs from Mitchell Johnson.

"No, Mitch," said Ponting. "You know I've made myself pretty clear on this. Sneaking around giving a feller a present when he doesn't even know who it's from: it's not manly, it's not Australian, and it's not the way we do things round here."

Saluting, Simon Katich rose to sing the opening bars of the team's designated patriotic festive anthem, "Tie Me Kangaroo Down To That Manger, Sport".

"Not yet, mate," said Ponting. "I've not finished with the motivational address of Christmas awesomeness."

"Sorry, skipper," said Katich. "I just get so bloody proud of the old baggy green, especially around the holiday season."

"Well, mate, we know you do," said Ponting. "That's why I want you to be Santa Claus this year. Upfront, nothing to hide, no claiming gifts we didn't give, no talking back to the elves, just a good, competitive, in-your-face Aussie Father Christmas. Now chuck this Santa outfit on."

Katich changed quickly, and admired himself in the mirror. He tried a few tentative "ho-ho-hos".

"Mate, that's some pretty ordinary ho-ho-ho-ing," chided Ponting. "Imagine you're sending Watto back for an easy single."

"HO-HO-YES-ho-ho-no-ho-ho-sorry," bellowed Katich.

Johnson was now crying uncontrollably.

"You mean Santa Claus is actually Katicho?" sobbed the left-armer. "Say it ain't so, skip."

Ponting thought quickly. Emboldened by his spicy declaration against Pakistan, he was ready to gamble. He seized one of Doug Bollinger's spare wigs from a nearby coat-peg and threw it to Katich. Katich dropped it, his team-mates all claimed he'd caught it, and then he fashioned the rug into a makeshift Santa beard. Johnson looked around the dressing room, puzzled.

"Where did Katicho go?" asked Johnson. "Santa? Santa? Do you know where Katicho went?"

"Ho-ho-ho," said Katich. "Have you been a good boy this year, young man?"

"Well I've given it everything, Santa," said Johnson. "Even when everyone was laughing at me in The Ashes and I couldn't bowl the ball on the pitch and my mum called my girlfriend all those names, I kept trying my best."

"Well, that's an awesome attitude young man," said Katich. "And what would you like for Christmas?"

"Well Santa, I'd really, really like to score a century," said Johnson.

"Too bloody right," said Katich. "Me too. I'd sell Rudolph for cat meat. I mean… erm, I'll see what me and my elves can do, young man. Ho-ho-ho."