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30th December 2010

Awoke to a new world. We are through the looking-glass, people. We stand before the dawn of a new era. England have given Ricky Ponting the (broken) finger and the Royal Melbourne Hospital have euthanized his captaincy career. We are now living Post-Ponting, or PP for short; and when you think of PP, you automatically think of Michael Clarke.

Australia has made a seamless transition. Replacing a gnarly old hand on the tiller, with a set of beautifully manicured fingers moisturised in jojoba extract. The message is clear. This is a new Australia for a new(ish) millennia. An Australia that can look you straight in the eye, concede the series, but smell luxuriant whilst doing so. An Australia whose footwork is timid and ponderous, but who can say, sod that, look at my cricket boots, they were designed by Jimmy Choo. An Australia that’s heading from the back page of newspapers to the front page of Lifestyle magazines. An Australia that knows it doesn’t matter how unpopular defeat could make its leader because everyone already hates him.

On the other hand, perhaps they’ll stick with Ricky after all. Either’s good for me. The really good news for the team is that our dietician’s away with his kids to the aquatic centre on our day off, so everyone else is taking the opportunity to grab a curry. Hello highly spiced complex carbohydrates, it’s been a while, but I’m ready for your warm embrace once more…

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