2nd Test - preview

'Twas the Night Before Ashes
when all through the house not a creature was stirring, not even a Strauss.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that St Harmie soon would be there.

The players were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of wickets danced in their heads. And Panesar in his 'kerchief, and Kev in his cap, had just settled our brains for a long summer's nap.

When out on the roof there arose such a clatter, Kev sprang from his bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window Kev flew like a flash, tore open the shutter, and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow gave the lustre of midday to objects below, when, what to his wondering eyes should appear, but a miniature sleigh and 10 pimply players.

With a little old driver, so lively and barmy, Kev knew in a moment it must be St. Harmie. More rapid than eagles, his courses they came, and he whistled and shouted and called them by name:
"Now Blackadder! Now Kev! Now, Monty and Anderson! On, Cook! On, Broad! On, Swann and Blitzen (?)! To the top of the pitch! To the top of the wall! Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, when they meet with an Ozzie, mount to the sky, so up to the house-top the courses they flew,with the sleigh full of gear, and St. Harmie too.

And then, in a twinkling, Kev heard on the roof the prancing and pawing of each little hoof. As Kev drew in his head and was turning around, down the chimney St. Harmie came with a bound.

He was dressed all in white, from his head to his foot, and his clothes were all tarnished not sparkling and bright. A bundle of bats he had flung on his back, and he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

His eyes--how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry! His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry! His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, and the mo on his lip was white from the blow. The glass from his crack pipe he held tight in his teeth, and the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath. He had a broad face and a little round belly, that shook when he bowled, like a bowl full of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf, and Kev giggled when he saw him, in spite of himself. A wink of his eye and a twist of his head soon gave Kev to know he had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, and filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk. And laying his finger aside of his nose, he laid out a line and gave it some dose.

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, and away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But Kev heard him exclaim, 'ere he drove out of sight, "Happy Ashes to all, and to all a good fight!"

You director would like to point out that King Ricky is no longer in mourning and will be out to inflict as much damage on the bowling attack as he can. However, Phil Hughes has decided to reinforce his helmet with Iraq War-approved kevlar in case Franken-Harmie is included in the starting 11.

Game on!!!