Let me take you back nine years. To that lovely summer of cricket. The reclaiming of the Ashes after 18 and a half years of ritual humiliation. To the last test match played on terrestrial TV. Do you remember, as I do, being in an office and knowing when a wicket fell when somewhere across the open plan someone had a quicker internet connection. We had a TV room, and plenty of us sneaked out for 10 or 15 minutes to watch what was happening. As each wicket fell people were working out that equation of runs v time. How much did we need to make the game safe? How many would the Aussies be able to chase in 50 overs, 40 overs, 30 overs? Were you like me and saying “bloody Australia, why can’t they lay down and die? We NEED this!!!”

Then remember the aftermath. Remember the Freddie…