Channel 9’s 3D wagonwheel of Lara’s mega innings v Pakistan yesterday was probably the most moving, beautiful graphic that Channel 9 have ever produced. It was a true supernova. I am developing a plan to make a sculpture of it using pipe cleaners. Or maybe a cake. I probably wouldn’t be able to afford that many pipe cleaners but it is a nice dream. There has long been something astronomical about Lara.

I love it when Brett Lee’s taking wkts for his country.

One great thing about the West Indies is that they aren’t a country. They can have no national day or national anthem. This picture is altogether mysterious – its caption is misguided.

The West Indies do not represent a State. They can play for nothing but the team. The supposed national anthem must be nothing but a team song. When I grow up I want to play cricket for the West Indies cricket team. On the team’s ensign there is a sun, a palm tree, the sea and a set of stumps.

The only thing better than seeing Brett Lee take wkts for his country would be seeing him take wkts for the West Indies.

Today in the newsagent’s I came across a little black book with ‘Collins 2005’ etched in gold across its top righthand corner. It is, I believe, an omen. Within the next 11 months Pedro will attain the greatness anyone who is called Pedro & plays cricket for the West Indies deserves. 2005 belongs to Collins.

There are two very important articles on baggygreen today.

The first is an agonisingly sad interview with Michael Slater.

When Pakistan last toured Australia in 1999 Slats built up a momentous combat with Shoaib Akhtar. Now it is the man who took Slater’s place at the top of the order back in the 2001 ashes series who is haunting Shoaib’s dreams.

Slats & Shoaib both love their Ferraris.

Justin Langer would never drive a ferrari. More likely a holden ute. This assertion has nothing to do with analogies based on speed, its simply all in the stance. On the paddock Justin has a holden ute stance. For Matty Hayden this could be awkward territory but he’s never seemed to mind all that much.

(Shoaib is such a superstar)

My research team has just provided me with the latest match report from the timeless contest between the Sherlockians and the Wodehousian Golden Bats – with functional pics.

& a report on the recent(ish) thriller played out between the Golden Bats and the Dusters from Dulwich. (Oh my god, check out the teas).

The picture of Clarke’s century gives a much more thorough joy than the agony of watching Ponting manufacture it for him. It is not by chance that the picture is more a picture of Ponting than Clarke, and that Ponting seems to be in greater ecstasies than Clarke. The 100 was after all largely Ponting’s work, as he refused to run, took singles only with extreme jurisdiction, and played out maidens in order to make sure there would be enough runs left for Clarke to build his total to three figures. There is something in the way Ponting spreads his arms in celebration that sets him apart. There is no Steve Waugh controlled raising off arms hands open high above the inclined head. Ponting’s arms spread wide and their is an exuberant sense of achievement as his fists clench the air. Steve really raises his bat, for Ponting the bat is either extraneous or totally assimilated – and if rises it rises only because it is anatomically there. It is Ponting’s redeeming feature really. He has terrible teeth and bad hair and an arrogant swagger, but when the excitement takes a hold the little boy spreads his wings with irrepressible fervour, wide, wild joy – Ponting is the boy living the dream of being captain of the Australian cricket team. Ordinarily he puts on airs of maturity to command respect but when the successes bite the boy bursts free and deliriously enjoys them. Clarkie’s response was more of relief, gratitude and a bit of self ridicule. But there’s a symmetry between the two boys in the pic, their blades dramatically crossing as the distance between them is shortening into a fervent embrace. I have no doubt that Ponting is a Miyazaki hero too. His celebration is the celebration of the victory of his peers against all the odds, almost a spectator but deeply embroiled in the passions of the moment. There’s always a bevy of townspeople and kids from the villages lining the boundary in Miyazaki films, celebrating the incredible, vital victories of the protagonists – heroes of the people. (Perhaps no one ever celebrates like this in Miyazaki films really, maybe it is just how I feel after watching them). So eventually I’ve come to the conclusion that Ponting isn’t the hero here, Clarke is undoubtedly so and Ponting is just a boy from the valley looking on and relating so intensely with his role models that he could not possibly bear to see them acheive anything less than ultimate success. He will work whatever small manoeuvres he can to assist the one who has, as it is written in the oracles, come. & he will feel their triumph in ways that they are way too cool & heroic to feel them.

Other highlights:
There is more drama yet in Watson’s hair.

Lee floats and across the Tasman Murali flies.

There is little more fascinating in a game of cricket than watching the rain fall on a covered square, and watching with such an involvement, anticipating the breaks in the weather, absorbed with every slight letting up in the downpour. Turning over in your mind the possible effects the delay may have upon the resumption of play and the new, surprising directions the game may take from here. Is the pitch sweating under those covers?

finally the blog has comments. all comments have been attracted to the one entry and are along similar lines. it may be the beginning of a mountain, the initial sediments have been deposited.

My fine research team also sprung this gem upon me. It is a desperate pity that the pictures don’t seem to be working on this site but the writing is so evocative you will be sure to conjure up some vivid surrogates with your brain. The fearsome aspect of the sherlockian lob-bowler keeps me awake at night.

Channel 9’s memorabilia is reaching incredible new heights. This is their latest addition to the cricket artefact market – the Shane Warne & Steve Waugh ‘Champs’.

Along the same lines my great team of researchers – there are hundreds of them, all busily working away behind the scenes of this blog – recently discovered this incredible site where you can view Takeshi Kitano teapots (you may have to scroll down a bit). It is clear that while Channel 9 may be reaching high there is still so much more they could do.

The VB series has been passing like days, transition from innings to innings like day into evening and then night falls, a few days later its a new day. One team or the other winning with relative ease and not too much to capture the imagination. Perhaps last night’s game was the most interesting because of the storms, the lightning. The game was reduced to a situation not unlike Twenty 20 and for me it was so much more exciting that this circumstance had come about due to natural forces. One of the issues I have with xx xx is that the excitement is built into the structure before anything happens. The great excitement of cricket, even one day cricket, is in waiting for the excitement to come about, and experiencing all the articulations of excitement that there are or will potentially be.

The tournament has provided some small bursts – the Afridi innings in Hobart, the carving up of McGrath and Lee; Symonds’ hair – seriously laying down a challenge to Dizzy as the best hair in world cricket (what matter his form when his hair is this good & he is still the best fielder to watch ever); Kaspro’s challenge to Symonds’ title of best fielder to watch ever in last night’s game; the storm last night which meant Channel 9 in an inspired piece of emergency programming played ‘One perfect day’ about Steve Waugh’s unforgettable last ball century in his pseudo last test at the scg at the end of the last ashes series, I just wept and wept all through it – it was such a perfect day.

Peter Beattie (QLD) dreams the dreams of the common man.