England's nerve-wracking draw in Centurion was pre-planned © Getty Images

Happy New Year, Confectionery Stallers, and welcome to a new year, a new decade (or the last year of an old decade, depending on your decade-defining proclivities). I am firmly in the New Decade camp, and so, I assume, is Jacques Kallis, if only so he can claim to be the 29th member of the highly exclusive club of players who have scored Test hundreds in three different decades.

(I have a full list of these 29 cricketing legends, but will not list them here for fear of antagonising my wife, who is anxious for me not to join the equally exclusive club of husbands who have spent excessive parts of two decades working out things on Statsguru. But a special mention for the great Indian batsman Vijay Merchant, who is the only man in the history of humanity to have scored just one Test century in three separate decades. Throw that little fact into your next conversation at work and see how people react. Hang on, I’m not quite finished with this one yet. If Kallis can somehow muster another five-wicket innings from his creaking limbs, he will become only the eighth bowler to take a five-for in three different decades, and join Kapil Dev as the only player to have both scored hundreds and taken five-fors in three decades. I’m done now.)

So impressive has Kallis been in this series that he must be starting to fancy his chances of becoming the first man to score hundreds in three different centuries – with modern science and training techniques, and Kallis’ unshakeable focus, it is entirely possible that he could still be churning the runs out in 2100.

The new year began well enough for both teams in Cape Town. England were strong throughout the first day, if a little lacking in old-ball penetration, and South Africa recovered with some style from a position where the series appeared to be heading decisively northwards.

After Durban, England fans had woken in the glorious dawn of a new year, rubbed their bleary faces, checked the second-Test scorecard they had printed out and hidden under their pillows, and murmured, “Did that really happen?” It was a performance almost devoid of flaws, and brought about England’s first innings victory over South Africa since 1964 (which itself had been so impressive that the prominent British poet Edith Sitwell felt compelled to die the following day at the age of 77).

One of the unavoidable medical side effects of modern sport-watching is feeling a faint but perceptible sensation of nausea and futility when hearing losing teams, captains and coaches desperately extracting spurious "positives" after being utterly defeated. A team will be walloped like a Victorian schoolboy, then hack away in the mineshaft of humiliation with the pickaxe of desperation in search of some flimsy nuggets of optimism to pass off as the pure gold of progress.

Therefore, in the wake of England’s spectacular Durban victory, I resolved to reverse this modern procedure, and attempt to find some equally spurious "negatives" to take from a magnificent all-round performance, as decisive and complete as any that England have concocted in recent years.

	The duo who made Australia tearfully phone their mummies © AFP

Welcome to the official Confectionery Stall year-by-year highlights of the Test Match decade, covering the years 2000, 2001 and 2002. These are my personal selections, and should not be used as unarguable evidence of the greatest cricketing moments of the selected years in any legal cases or political dispute.

Apologies, therefore, if there is an English bias – but not only am I English, most of the cricket I have watched this millennium (especially in the first half of the decade) involved England. And England are, have always been, and will always be, the most exciting cricket side in the universe. I am sure all of you, deep down, would much rather watch Alistair Cook than Brian Lara, Ashley Giles ahead of Shane Warne, and Alan Mullally rather than Wasim Akram.

I am equally sure you all have your own favourite moments of the last 10 years. Maybe some of you are hardcore Boeta Dippenaar fans who insist that the unbeaten 177 against Bangladesh in Chittagong was not merely the highlight of 2003, but also the single greatest achievement in the history of all sport. Maybe there was a particular shot, delivery, catch, umpiring signal, appeal, use of the heavy roller, mispronunciation of player’s name by a stadium announcer, or helmet-kissing, that particularly spoke to your cricketing soul. If so, please share it with us.

2000: England beat West Indies by two wickets at Lord’s
In a decade that became notable for mammoth run-scoring on featherbed pitches, sending even the most fanatical cricketing insomniac into a catatonic snooze, this three-day thriller had “19th century” written all over it in gold-plated calligraphy.

Twenty-one wickets fell on the second day, with West Indies skittled for 54 in two hours of maniacal mayhem, with Andy Caddick returning the positively Victorian-era analysis of 13-8-16-5. There followed a nail-nibbling third-day finish as England inched to their first major victory of the Hussain-Fletcher era, against the last remnants of the great West Indian fast bowling dynasty.

Honourable mention: England winning in almost pitch-black darkness in Karachi - Hussain and Thorpe wrapping up victory batting with miner’s lamps strapped to their helmets, wearing glow-in-the-dark safety tabards, and using their innate bat-like sonar to locate the ball. Towards the end, as Moin Khan complained that his fielders could no longer see the ball, and he could no longer see his fielders, Steve Bucknor responded with an admonitory, schoolmasterly look that screamed, “Well, you should have thought of that before you started slowing the over-rate down to 4.3 per hour.”

In the second instalment of his World Cricket Podcast, comedian Andy Zaltzman tells you who will win the South Africa v England series, names his favourite South African player of all time, reflects on the outstanding series in New Zealand, refrains from speaking to his guest on the show this week because he couldn’t get his computer working, and dishes up more lies on cricket.

View the full entry to read the transcript of the podcast.

Download the entire podcast here (mp3, right-click to save).

	England have a psychological block when it comes to playing Test matches in the shadow of flat-topped mountains © PA Photos

Only two-and-a-half weeks remain of a cricketing decade that has seen some of the best cricket ever played and some of the worst, and which has witnessed greater transformation in the game than any time since Eve persuaded Adam to join her in a new game she had invented, which involved trying to hit an apple with a snake.

England began the decade as they will end it – in the middle of a Test series in South Africa. In January 2000, England’s first third-millennium Test ended in a pounding, series-losing innings defeat, before they gained a consolation win in the final Test, thanks in large part to (a) Hansie Cronje’s love of high-quality jackets, and (b) Hansie Cronje receiving a rather surprising answer from his "What Would Jesus Do?" bracelet, and acting upon it. Thus began a theme which has recurred on and off throughout the decade − the needless devaluing of Test cricket.

(A couple of trivia questions for you:
1. Who was the first man to bat at 6 for England this millennium?
2. Who was the first England player to etch his name onto a 21st-century honours board?

Anyone who answers both of these correctly without having to look them up deserves a mixture of respect, praise, pity, admonishment, scorn and a commemorative Confectionery Stall silver salver. And a urine test to check for illegal levels of Wisden. Answers at the bottom of the blog).

England begin Wednesday’s first Test in confident mood, hoping that this series will show that the 2009 Ashes win marked the beginning of a period of excellence, as the 2005 victory transpired to mark the end of one. Has beating the Australians papered over the cracks that were evident throughout the summer, or filled them in with the concrete of confidence and painted the Queen high-fiving Len Hutton on top? And was South Africa’s win in Australia a year ago their high-water mark – Ntini is retiring, Kallis creaking, Morkel stagnating, Smith chuntering to himself?

	Charged as guilty: Virender Sehwag© Associated Press

Virender Sehwag, not for the first time in his extravagant career, stands on the cusp of history. To break Brian Lara’s Test innings record, the Delhi Devastator needs another 117 runs – equating to approximately 23 minutes’ batting at his standard scoring rate.

I speculated in my first World Cricket Podcast exactly what bowlers must feel when attempting to combat Sehwag on a good batting pitch. Suffice it to say that if this innings continues long into day three, the International Court of Human Rights may become involved, and the phenomenal Indian opener may find himself charged with crimes against bowling humanity.

For all the splendour Sehwag has once again given to the cricket-watching world, all record of this innings must be surreptitiously destroyed. What if impressionable young bowlers were to stumble upon evidence of the kind of abuse they may endure? What right-thinking parent would want their precious little baby bowler to grow up in such a heartless universe? Even bowling machines might refuse to bowl.

The groundbreaking first instalment in Andy Zaltzman's series of world cricket podcasts is here. In this special guest-free edition, Zaltzman turns an eye to the cavalcade of cricket that has been shovelled into our faces of late. Among the highlights: a look at the Dunedin Test, of which, despite not having watched a ball, he loved every ball; the first and last "paltry/poultry" pun ever; ways Mohammad Asif can get banned in future; the Zaltz Stat of the moment; the team that (sometimes) executes their plans as smoothly as Henry VIII did his wives; and in a world-first, a joke that features both Ali Naqvi and Dirk Wellham.

View the full entry to read the transcript of the podcast

Download the audio here (mp3, right-click to save)

	There's something eerie about England's confident start in South Africa © PA Photos

The Confectionery Stall is back. I’ve been tied up writing and recording a radio series for the past few weeks, a period which has probably been the longest I have ever endured without really thinking about cricket since I was in the womb.

And what dark, dark days they were (literally and metaphorically), throughout the summer of 1974, subconsciously willing my cricket-averse mother to allow her radio to stray onto the commentary of England’s series with India and Pakistan, before realising this was a futile quest, and resolving to ignore cricket until my birth, at the very earliest. Thereafter, I reasoned from my amniotic cocoon, I would at least be able to cry and scream incessantly until I was provided with regular updates on all major cricket matches.

Little did I know that these cries and screams would be so spectacularly misinterpreted as demands for sustenance or affection. Or fresh laundry. And I have taken extreme care not to repeat this misinterpretation with my own children, who are kept fully appraised of all the latest occurrences in ICC-ratified events as soon as their lips even start to quiver.

Hopefully my recent break will have done me good – after years on the treadmill of thinking too much about cricket, a few weeks of enforced break should have refreshed the thinking about cricket part of my brain (the left half, and the top 80% of the right), and I will be able to think about cricket more and better than I have ever thought about it before.

	In which direction does your cricketing moral compass point? © Getty Images

Welcome to the Official Confectionery Stall Cricketing Morality Challenge, following on from Andrew Strauss actions in the Champions Trophy – first recalling Angelo Mathews like a benevolent shepherd allowing a naughty fox one more chance to prove he can cohabit with your flock, then spurning Graeme Smith’s supplication for a runner like Henry VIII definitively telling Anne Boleyn that it was over for good because he didn’t go for women without heads, if I may use two largely inaccurate similes. I now give you the opportunity to find out the direction in which your cricketing moral compass points. Will it be north, towards the good of cricket and humankind, or south, towards 'win at all costs and damn the consequences'?

SCENARIO 1

It is the final over of a unfeasibly crucial limited-overs match. Your team needs four runs to win with just one measly wicket remaining. The opposition’s star fast bowler, who has taken five for 15 from nine overs of helmet-clattering fury, is walking back to his mark. All the other main bowlers have completed their allocation. No one else on the fielding team knows how to bowl. As the bowler turns at the end of his run-up and prepares to run in, you notice that a man-eating bear has escaped from the crowd and is charging up behind him. You realise that your chances of victory would be greatly enhanced by the fast bowler being eaten by the bear. Do you alert him to the impending danger?

	Andrew Strauss played the good cop in recalling Angelo Mathews after a mid-pitch collision led to a run-out © Getty Images

In the all-you-can-stomach fashion of modern cricket, no sooner has one major (or, more appropriately, quite major) tournament been whisked off your plate, than another is slopped onto it. The Champions Trophy left the customer neither wanting more, nor regretting his meal choice. It was an adequate spaghetti Bolognese of a tournament, befitting the current adequacy of international cricket. The fleeting hope of England fluking a major one-day trophy was snuffed out like the cheap imitation candle it was. Australia were excellent – the divots in their scalps from the head scratching they must have endured over how they lost the Ashes must be reaching close to skull level.

The absence of so many top players from all or some of the competition left it appearing a little mundane, and the fact that a new-look Australia won their semi-final and final so easily raised questions about the overall standard and depth of the world game. This year’s ICC World XIs are not exactly replete with must-see legends of the sport. A generation of modern greats has been gradually leaving the game in recent years – the new as-yet-unspectacular generation of cricketers understandably feels a little pedestrian by comparison.

For Mitchell Johnson to be named cricketer of the year, having flunked his biggest exam, shows that that the cupboard of cricketing greatness is largely bare. Paul Harris is rated the seventh best bowler on the planet in the ICC Test rankings. Yes, he is a steady performer, underrated by much of the cricket media, unfairly lampooned by English commentators in 2008. But the seventh best in the world? If Harris was playing an impromptu game in the street outside your house, would you watch? You might take a peek through the window, but you probably wouldn’t actually go outside.

Ten years ago the top eight bowlers in the rankings were, in order, Donald, Pollock, McGrath, Ambrose, Murali, Walsh, Kumble and Akram. All greats of the game, all bar Kumble averaging in the mid-to-low 20s, all bowlers who made batsmen pick nervously at their lucky omelette on the first morning of a Test.

This week, the top eight are: Steyn, Murali, Johnson, Ntini, Harbhajan, Clark, Harris and Zaheer. All good bowlers, but today’s batsmen wolf their omelettes down with relative confidence.

The batting (perhaps understandably) is in better shape, but to illustrate the lack of invigorating young blood being transfused into cricket, only one of the top 30-ranked Test batsmen is under the age of 25 (number 27, Alistair Cook, another who is not the kind of player to cause turnstiles sleepless nights). Perhaps more revealingly, only nine of the top 30 are under the age of 30, and just five have made their debuts since the start of 2005.

At some point, if time, work and wife permit, I will see how this compares with previous points in cricketing history – perhaps this is not unusual, perhaps it is just a slight quirk, but it seems to me that cricket urgently needs some new world stars to emerge in the threatened Test arena. For now, I challenge you to list 10 players currently under the age of 25 who will be welcomed to the wicket in their final Test with a guard of honour in recognition of their immortal services to the game. Anyone who correctly predicts all 10 will win a papier-mache macquette of Lalit Modi counting a colossal pile of Twenty20 cash in his garden shed. Results to be confirmed in the year 2029.

The Champions League Twenty20 has instantly replaced the Champions Trophy. To be honest with you, I had forgotten about this tournament. To be fair to the CLT20, however, I have forgotten many things in my life, including:

− almost everything I learnt at school and university
− almost everything I have ever learnt that is neither a sporting statistic nor the name of one of my children (the latter being an impressive feat, bearing in mind that I have not had them tattooed on me, so have to rely purely on my capacity for mental recall)
− where I left my keys this morning
− my own birthday
− why aeroplanes work, and
− who ultimately admitted to being afraid of the Big Bad Wolf.

As a neutral with no particular allegiance to any of the teams involved, and insufficient space in my diary and brain to invite another cricketing tournament to roost, my interest in the tournament is largely restricted to any evidence it may offer regarding whether Test cricket is doomed, and if it is, how soon that doom may loom.

For me, the highlights of the Champions Trophy were the complex moral and philosophical quandaries Andrew Strauss had to confront. Strauss played good cop in recalling Angelo Mathews after a mid-pitch collision led to a run-out, but bad cop in refusing Graeme Smith a runner after the poor big lambkin pulled up lame after a long day outdoors running around a bit. I think he was right on both counts, although I would have liked to see the England captain demand that Smith find a runner of near-identical build. Or that AB de Villiers be forced to put on extra clothing until he reached the same weight and girth as Smith. This in turn could have led to highly entertaining disputes about exactly how chunky the South African skipper currently is, with umpires having to measure with calipers the exact span of Smith’s tummy.

Cricket has always been a moral maze – should you walk when you snick one to the keeper? Should the fielder appeal for a catch when he knows that the ball bounced three times before it reached him? Should the umpire give a leg-before-wicket decision against a batsman who he thinks might be sleeping with his wife, even when he knows: (a) that the ball pitched marginally outside leg stump; (b) that his wife’s infidelity is the direct result of his own obsession with umpiring, leaving her feeling unwanted, unloved and used (how many evenings a week can a husband reasonably expect a wife to stand with pads on putting her legs in front of moving objects?); and (c) that the alleged Lothario batsman was at the non-striker’s end?

Over the weekend I will concoct some hypothetical scenarios to test your cricketing morality, including whether or not you should tell an opposition bowler that he is about to be eaten by a bear.

	We are so exhausted that we will surely win the Champions Trophy © Getty Images

Well, be honest. Did you see that coming from England? If you are claiming that you did, I want to see written proof, verified by an independent third party.

The latest upward surge in England’s wildly fluctuating 2009 has seen them give two outstanding and dominant performances in three days, including a new England record for sixes in a one-day international – 12 (twelve, honestly, twelve) (I saw them all with my own eyes) (albeit on television, so the possibility remains that the entire match was in fact a hoax).

Let’s put this in perspective. The dozen missiles launched by Shah, Morgan and Collingwood into the Centurion stratosphere on Sunday eclipsed England’s previous ODI record of 10 sixes in Napier two winters ago. Let’s put this in further perspective. England hit just eight sixes in the seven-game series against Australia just completed. And let’s now complete the perspective putting − Shah’s six bombs put him second equal on England’s all-time list for ODI aerial boundary blasts (as they will in due course become known to TV audiences); Morgan’s five place him fifth equal.