This morning, during an awesome burst of pace bowling from Shoaib (at least 9 weet-bix) and Sami, Kim Hughes came on the radio saying ‘this is the best test cricket I’ve ever seen’.

The opening spell was exhilirating, but the rest of the day was a series of depressing let downs. Langer falling 3 runs short of becoming the first batsman ever to score a century in both innings at the Waca. Ponting 2 runs short of his first century as test captain. But most terrible by far, the injury to the great Shoaib. The frustration and agony is pulsing through the world. If he’s not fit for boxing day then what happens to the test series? It loses cricket’s answer to Mario Cipollini. The black triangles filling the angle between Shoaib’s pocket and the seam of his trousers can not be regulation. Surely he must be fined. He absolutely MUST be fit.

During the tea break I fell asleep on the couch with a cat on me.

Another small joy, that really could only count as relief, came when Marto breezed to an easy century just prior to the Australian declaration.

Peter English reported on baggygreen:

‘The batting was entertaining and increased to special status by the afternoon, but it was an indulgence. Australia had built a hotel when all they needed to do was blow down a wobbly shack.’

Justin’s architectural expertise, even his architectural excesses, obviously contributing vitally to the Australian cricket team’s poetic force.