I had no intention of exchanging my beauty sleep last night for even a single ball of England’s latest Ashes demise. And I kept to my word.
I just happened to wake up in the early hours and be overcome by a masochistic desire to check the Aussie second innings score.

As I staggered downstairs, bleary eyed, and turnedon the TV, I had a pretty good idea what I was about to see. But I had just this tiniest thought that maybe, just maybe, Monty Panesar had repeated his first-innings bowling heroics and spun his web around the Australian batsmen again.

No such luck. I was greeted by the grinning face of Mike Hussey celebrating his century in a bat-waving frenzy of delight - and the predictable caption saying Australia were 347 for three. Call me a loser if you like, but I promptly went back to bed without watching a single ball delivered.

The Aussies were 376 ahead, by my reckoning, with at least another 200 runs to come. England get 600 to win against Shane Warne and Co? Forget it - our burnt-out bunglers will be lucky to make it into three figures second-time round. Goodbye Ashes - and congratulations on regaining them, Ricky Ponting.

It all had me wondering just why a team that were hailed as world beaters just 16 months ago now look like cricketing journeymen. Surely the loss through injury of skipper Michael Vaughan and king-of-reverse-seam Simon Jones couldn’t make that much difference, I pondered. Well, yes, maybe it could.

Andrew Flintoff may be the best all-rounder in the world, but he’s proved on this tour that he’s not cut out to be England captain. His batting has gone to pot - legacy of the extra pressure leading the team has put on him.

The mere feat of winning the Ashes proved that Vaughan has undisputable leadership qualities, plus not a little batting ability. But perhaps Glamorgan’s permanent crock Jones, the man who instilled fear in the Australian batsmen in the summer of 2005, has been missed more than anyone.

Now I am biased - I’m Welsh and I believe Glamorgan players have never been given a fair deal by England. Robert Croft, Steve James, Matthew Maynard were all thrown on the Test scraphead far too soon, in my opinion. Not so Jones. He was given his chance after he’d played only a handful of games for his county . . . and was promptly cut down by the first on countless injury problems on the last Ashes tour of Australia.

The experts reckon his problem is that he is TOO fit; his body so finely honed that it is more susceptible to breakdown than a mere-mortal England player.

Simon’s dad Jeff (yes I remember him slinging ‘em down for England back in the 1960s) had the same problem. Injury ended his career prematurely - and I fear it’s now ended Simon’s involvement at the top as well.

So England must soldier on to a 5-0 whitewash (as it surely will be) without a talisman Welshman. The nearest the present tourists get to one is the current wicketkeeper’s name - and Geraint Jones is about as Welsh (or English, for that matter!) as Adam Gilchrist.

My abiding memory of this tour will be that brazen Hussey’s face this morning. It told me that all is lost…and I’m not being wise before the event. As I write this, I haven’t a clue what the Aussie total is.

From now on I’m sticking to following Cardiff City. Our hopes of making the Premiership may have faded…but at least we still have hope.

And that’s more than you can say for England down under.