Cricket is officially sexy.

In England the spectators and commentators are feeling the pinch – “The entire country can now take a breather as the series breaks for 10 days before Trent Bridge. There are many people who will need to go and lie down in a darkened room – with two Tests to go this is becoming the ultimate series.” In Australia, where distance can do nothing to thwart the emotionally harrowing intensitites that are being driven into our souls, we have the added problem of sleep deprivation – Ashes recovery booths are being set up all over the country.

It was eons ago that the the coyotes crept off to die quietly in a cave somewhere, ceasing their hopeless crying before the moon, leaving Michael Vaughan free to take all his chances with glee and amass a huge century to put England well on top from the outset. Generations later the coyotes might have perked up again as Ponting, after days of nothing but disappointment (another failed attempt at a century from El Warno being the pinnacle, the seductions of hope & ignorance of faith had well and truly begun to work their teasing ways), led Australia in the most remarkable, most spirited, of rear guard actions to win his team a draw. England’s massive chance to take a lead in the series went begging, the road runner beeped cheerily, smiled at the camera and sped on.