The Ashes has certainly burrowed its way under my skin this year, much more than it did either four years ago during the dark days of 2005, or the one-way traffic of 2007 on home soil. There are probably many reasons why this is, but the most obvious one is that the Australian cricket team has come back to the field in just the last couple of seasons. The retirement of practically half a team full of champion players during the last few years has left the rest of the team with a considerable learning curve to deal with, just to stay in the game. One gets the sense that we are teetering on the edge of a new era for the Australian test cricket team, but at the moment, with the Ashes still in the balance, it is tantalisingly unclear as to what the trajectory of this era is going to be. Australia only needs a draw in the fifth test at The Oval (starting this evening Australia time) to salvage The Ashes, of course, but to retain their prized number one ranking, they need to win the match. There has scarcely been a game in recent test cricket history that has mattered more to Australia than this.

This year’s Ashes has also reminded us of something very valuable; instant gratification is, contrary to the spirit of the times, not always the best form of gratification. Test matches are decidedly out of step with the pace of modern life and modern trends in sport. They do you slowly. They can, occasionally, be as proverbially brisk as watching the grass grow in your backyard. At the end of five long days, neither the teams nor the average spectator may get the sense of finality that comes from a clear result. The best team may not win. Both teams may not be playing well. The weather may ruin the match. Despite all this, even as the billions of dollars being plowed into 20:20 cricket threaten to kill off this purest form of the game and render one-day internationals redundant, Ashes 2009 has delivered to viewers an enthralling spectacle.

It has been heartening to discover that I am not alone in thinking all of this. There have even been two corroborating mainstream newspaper columns in recent days – from writers not normally associated closely with sports journalism. There something deliciously ironic about this opening from Jonathan Freedland in the Guardian:

Two summers ago I wrote here of my aversion to the BlackBerry as holiday companion. No mobile device would accompany me on my vacation, I declared: “The only blackberries I hope to see on my holiday are the kind you eat.” Now, 24 months later, I have a confession to make. I have broken my own rule. I have just returned from a fortnight in France with my wife, children – and one of the dreaded handheld devices.

But don’t judge me too harshly. I didn’t crack under the pressure of work. I wasn’t frantically thumbing out emails when I should have been splashing in the sea. In fact, I didn’t so much as glance at my email. The BlackBerry had a single purpose: allowing me, via its internet browser, to keep up to date with the cricket.

That’s right – Freedland bought a BlackBerry – one of the technological buzzword products of the noughties – to keep up with the progress of the one of the oldest and most anachronistic games still attracting media attention. I wonder what W.G. Grace would have thought of all this.