Peter Roebuck, John Howard, and scribbling and politics as impenetrable and arcane as the rules of cricket ...

(Above: 101 uses for a John Howard, from way back when here).

Whenever we contemplate cricket, we like to do a double back flop, arms askew, with eyes wide shut, and mouth open, indicating profound ennui, and deep sleep, in the style of Stephen Colbert.

Come to think of it, whenever we think of John Howard, except when it comes to watching him bowl a ball to the troops, we do the same.

At last, someone who makes me think cricketing skill is within my reach. Provided, I'm told, that I can bowl under arm under firm guidance from, and in the style and manner of a Chappell.

Even so, we rarely give cricket a first thought, let alone a second, except when it comes to reading the scribbles of Peter Roebuck, sometimes thrust on to the front page of the Fairfax digital rags, as has just happened with Tragic cricket failure as Howard sent to the pavilion.

The news that John Howard got rolled like a heavy roller (which we're told is some arcane ritual involving grass of a non-weed kind) is the reason for the shock and the horror.

But to get the real flavour, first we need to flashback to January this year, and to Roebuck's Howard choice is the wrong way to go.

Cricket Australia's decision to nominate John Howard as its candidate for the top job at the International Cricket Council is as pitiful as it is disrespectful. Howard's knowledge of cricket is more characterised by enthusiasm than depth or imagination. Plain and simple he is not qualified for the job.

Golly, that's pretty emphatic. Not much room for wriggling there.

Hey ho, on we go, and flash forward we must, back to Howard getting rubbed out, dumped, rejected and yet defiant.

Surely you'd expect one so emphatic to have no trouble with the black ball dropping and Howard being given the shove?

So little imagination you have:

Now another antipodean must be found. What price his prospects? Australia ought to refuse to renominate. Howard never was the issue. Corruption is the issue, and it is dancing tonight.

Well I don't know that the stars were dancing, so much as contradictions flashing before my eyes. Now quickly, let's flashback to January:

Moreover, the way in which he has been plucked from the sidelines shows Cricket Australia in the worst possible light. Rather than recommending a retired politician, no matter how eminent, Cricket Australia ought to be getting behind the splendid candidate suggested by its counterpart and former war ally across the Tasman. Instead it stands accused on intransigence.

Golly is there any way out of that dry gulch? Yes, there is. Flash forward:

Of course, the corrupt pretend that Howard was blocked because of his political past. The argument does not hold water, let alone whisky (the favoured drink of the Black Label Brotherhood running the game). Half the Indian board are politicians. Among recent ICC presidents, Sharad Pawar, the new man, is a senior minister in the current Indian government, Percy Sonn was a bigwig in South Africa's ruling ANC, and Ray Mali is an ANC fat cat despite being exposed as a possible collaborator with a shady past. Hey ho, hey ho, it's off to work we go.

Hey ho, hey nonny no, it's back to January we go:

Australia's position has been well nigh indefensible. Unable to produce a serious candidate of its own, Cricket Australia ought to have gracefully withdrawn ...

And while we're there, let's cultivate a little respect for the ICC.

It is responsible for the development of the game and striking the right balance between traditional and contemporary formats. Likewise it has to keep an eye on drugs, gambling , easy money and the other modern blights. For all its faults, the ICC remains the powerhouse of an ever-expanding game.

Wrong, you goose. Hey ho, back to the future we go.

The mess is not about politics or principle or anything at all except power. The worst elements at the ICC were scared of Howard and so found reason to stop him before he became strong.

They'd been voting for them for years and it was time for some payback. Howard has his faults, and his politics are not mine, but beside these villains he is the Archangel Gabriel.

And now comes the long-feared divide between black and white. All six predominantly black countries objected to Howard. The three white nations backed him.

Zimbabwe feigned disinterest. Nice work fellas. The true battle is not between countries or faiths or colours, but between the corrupt and the common man.

Feeling dizzy yet?

And so forth and etc, and I must bring this to a halt because frankly I'm utterly confused. If you can make sense of Roebuck, you're certainly wiser than Gunga Din. Possibly it means you can make sense of cricket ... and cricketing politics. Was he right back in January and utterly wrong now? Or was he utterly wrong in January and ambivalently right now?

Who knows, and indeed who cares, except for the sheer hoot value of watching the sporting commentariat in action.

Me? I just love to watch John Howard send down a wicked fast ball ...

(Below: ah the memories, and the politics).