'Granddad, what was an offspinner?'

Grandson: Granddad, what was an offspinner?

Granddad: What did you say?

Grandson: An offspinner, Granddad. What was it?

Granddad: Ah yes. I thought that's what you said. Who taught you that word?

Grandson: One of my friends mentioned it in history class, but our teacher said we weren't old enough to know the truth about such things.

Granddad: Did he now? Hmmm, well you will have to find out sometime. An offspinner was a bowler from many years ago who turned the ball in to right-handed batsmen.

Granddad: Yes, I know it is hard to imagine, but there used to be hordes of them roaming the earth, foraging for wickets in long-sleeved tops.

Grandson: And what happened to them?

Granddad: They all disappeared in the great obliteration of 2014.

Grandson: Oh dear. What do you mean? Was it an asteroid?

Granddad: No. No it wasn't an asteroid. That's dinosaurs you're thinking of.

Grandson: Oh, okay. Was it a global plague?

Granddad: Well, sort of. It was the ICC.

Grandson: The ICC?

Granddad: Yes, it was the body which ran world cricket back then.

Grandson: Like the Dubai Board for T10 we have now?

Granddad: Yes, that's the one. A man called Mr Srinivasan was actually in charge of the ICC at the time of the clampdown, a couple of years before appointing himself head of the UN.

Grandson: And why were all the offspinners destroyed, Granddad?

Granddad: Because they flexed their elbows more than 15 degrees when bowling.

Grandson: But... but... that doesn't sound so awful. They were all instantly destroyed just because of that?

Grandson: Oh, heavens no. First they were sent to "Remedial Centres" to try and cure their actions.

Grandson: "Remedial Centres"? They sound a bit Orwellian, Granddad.

Granddad: "No, no. They weren't Orwellian at all. The offspinners just had electrodes fitted to their bodies and their every move closely monitored by a team of men in white coats sitting in front of computer screens.

Grandson: And where were these centres, Granddad?

Granddad: Well, let's see. They had them in Cardiff, Brisbane and, I think, Chennai.

Grandson: Wasn't Chennai the home of Mr Srinivasan?

Granddad: Yes it was.

Grandson: And who were some of the famous offspinners that disappeared?

Granddad: Well, there was Saeed Ajmal from Pakistan. And then the wily Trinidadian Sunil Narine. He disappeared the day before he was set to play in the Champions League T20 final against Chennai Super Kings.

Grandson: Chennai Super Kings? But wasn't that Mr Srinivasan's team?

Granddad: Er, yes it was. Narine also didn't play for West Indies on their subsequent tour of India.

Grandson: India? But wasn't that Mr Sriniva -

Granddad: Yes. Yes it was. People of course had their suspicions about these coincidences, but the 2015 Commission for Truth and Elbows found this all to be entirely innocent.

Grandson: And who chaired that, Granddad?

Granddad: Ravi Shastri.

Grandson: You mean Scarlett Johansson's husband?

Granddad: The very same. People were surprised at those two getting together, I can tell you, but many ladies thought him a cool customer.

Grandson: And was a bendy elbow really the biggest threat facing cricket in 2014?

Granddad: It depends which angle you look at it from. You also had widespread allegations of match-fixing, a worrying decline in Test attendances, and the ICC's consistent inability to encourage the growth of cricket beyond the narrow confines of the game's colonial roots.

Grandson: I see. And are there really no offspinners left on earth, Granddad?

Granddad: Well, there are rumours of an underground group that tries to breed them in secret, but no one knows much about it except that it's led by a man named Saqlain and it's called the Decline Of Offspinners Super Rescue Association. I've no idea why they came up with that title.

Grandson: Okay, Granddad. Thanks for setting me straight.

Granddad: No problem at all. Now go and practice your forward defensive.

Grandson: My what?

Granddad: Oh, never mind.