Return of the King

Cricket often involves an intricate and, some would say, over-analytical preoccupation with the past. Any pundit worth their salt will explain, usually at length, that the game's psychology is made more meaningful by careful reflection. After all, how can we examine "what is", without understanding "what was"? Today during the second final of the VB series at the Sydney Cricket Ground, cricket was also about looking to the future.

As Australia took the series by the jugular, winning 2-0, many fans were asking "what could be". Perhaps it was something to do with the one-sided nature of the finals. Perhaps it was something to do with the fact that the VB Series has lasted longer than the Paleolithic Age. Perhaps it was simply a case of absence making the heart grow fonder. Whatever the reasons, discussions around the ground regularly involved the mention of one name in particular.

Yes folks, he's back on Tuesday. Believe it or not, in two days' time the 12-month suspension will be over. Don't look now, but for better for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, that controversial blond bloke is about to reclaim his place in the Victorian state squad. According to the majority of fans at least, his inclusion in the forthcoming Sri Lanka touring party is an absolute shoo-in.

It's been a tough summer for Australian cricket lovers. They've had to wade through Test and one-day encounters without the merciless accuracy of Glenn McGrath. They've lost the tried, true and respected leadership of Steve Waugh. Recently they've even had to suffer the unthinkable; form slumps, lacklustre performances, and questionable team selections. Maybe that's why the Sheikh of Tweak's imminent return to the fold is being anticipated with such gusto.

"I've missed Warnie," said Darren from Sydney's Quaker's Hill, and you know from the moisture gathering in the corner of his eye that he means every word. "When he's bowling there's always something happening. I don't think much of him as a person, but as a bowler there's no doubt that he's one of the greats. You feel he could take a wicket with every ball." In Darren's opinion, a cricket game without Warnie is about as electrifying as a strand of three-day-old fettucini. "Without Warnie there's an atmosphere lacking. Bring him back," Darren added. "The sooner the better."

Belinda, from the Western suburb of Kenthurst agreed. "There's no one quite like him," she said. "MacGill and Hoggy tried hard, but it just wasn't the same. And the summer has shown that the team needs him. Love him or hate him, he's an asset to the game." Her friend Stephanie took the argument further. "It's kind of sad to think about it, but Warnie's going to be a sort of elder statesman of the team now," she added. "I've missed everything that comes with the package. I've missed all the glares and gestures; all the drama."

The return of the spin king hadn't escaped discussion among the Indian contingent on the Hill. Normally the preserve of Australian fans of the dedicated beer-drinking variety, several hundred blue-and-yellow clad Swami Army recruits took central position under the scoreboard. They waved flags and handwritten banners. They produced enormous fluffy tigers. They sang songs. They continued the clamor with energy and application to the task, even as their team collapsed against the backdrop of a clear Sydney night.

For many, the thought of a further-strengthened Australian bowling lineup was a daunting prospect. "If you believe the publicity, most of which seems to be coming from Warne himself, he is bowling better than ever," said Sanjay, who had flown in from Singapore specifically for the two finals. "That is a devastating idea. He's a wonderful bowler. He's a magician. No doubt about that. But if he is even close to form it doesn't bode well for the other cricketing nations."

Sanjay's wife Manjira was approaching the debate from a broader viewpoint. "It's good for the international game," she theorised, as the man behind accidentally nudged a small fluffy tiger into the back of her head. "Shane Warne adds flavour to the game. Off the field I have no time for him, but on it he's a personality. Sport is, by its competitive nature, made more interesting by large personalities. Just as in life I suppose." Sanjay nodded and smiled. "Manjira knows about these things," he added. "She's a psychologist."

As Australia's summer of international cricket drew to a close, and the teams assembled for the presentation, Warnie was nowhere to be seen. As the respective captains thanked sponsors and organisers and fans, Warnie wasn't mentioned. Come Tuesday, however, we will all be contemplating "what could be".