These two games are a metaphor for the current England team and Mike Brearley, then a Test player then and now a psychotherapist, would make a field day of the analogy. This latest performance is Kingston University 1977 personified. For no kit read no motivation, and an inevitable thrashing assured. The England players literally gave their wickets away with pathetic shots, and as the Aussies strolled to the miserable victory target of 111, the England fielders wandered around thinking of the equivalent of my geography-student girlfriend.

It certainly did not have to be like that. Sure, England have taken a pounding over the past two months, but how much more motivation does a team need than a packed Adelaide Oval on Australia Day with the crowd baying for the blood of the Poms? Isn't that motivation enough for Duncan Fletcher to say, ‘‘Look, we know we are not favourites for the game, but if we can win, we are likely to make it to the final. Look what Bangladesh did to the Aussies in 2005. Go out and do it and shut these 30,000 fans up, and make their Australia Day a miserable day’’?

Apparently not. The body language, miserable faces, lousy batting, bowling and fielding (Monty Pansear excepted, he bowled well) tell us a lot about the current state of English cricket. More to the point, it tells us a lot about Fletcher, who for my paltry amount of money is a poor coach. Yes, I know he won us the Ashes in 2005, but he's done nothing since. It's time for him to go if that is all he can serve up.

Unless England beat New Zealand, they are on the plane home. The decorated heroes from 2005, with their MBEs and photo albums of open-top bus parades through London. And the irony? This Australia Day, not one member of the current Australian AWaking up to another miserable England performance down under got me thinking back to two cricket matches, poles apart in terms of stature, but poignant to England's current plight. The first was in 1977, when I was a student at Kingston University in Surrey, and kept wicket and opened the innings for the university team.

The game was a friendly against a strong club side from the area. Now, having grown up with the rough and tumble of league cricket in Yorkshire, I could not grasp the concept of the term 'friendly'. As a junior I had cut my teeth in local leagues where umpires were regularly insulted and where on more than one occasion there were fisticuffs in the dressing room between players who were less than happy with teammates' performances.

As I remember the game, 30 years on, it was a beautiful June Sunday afternoon and there we were, without any kit (the groundsman who looked after the university pitches was obviously recovering from a bender). So we had the ignominity of borrowing our opponents' pads, gloves etc and to rub in our miserable status as also-rans both captains agreed that we should bowl first so that the game would at least last a couple of hours.

In short, we were trounced. The club racked up about two thousand for three declared And in reply we were about 37 all out (I'm sure I got a bagel, I seem to remember their opening bowler starting his run up the other side of the A3, and I wasn't going to give up a potentially winning night out with the Geography student from the third year whom I was dating. so I was pleased to be given out caught behind). Watching the difference between England and Australia this morning while still half asleep reminded me of that day all those years ago.

Fast forward to June 2005 and the triangular series involving England, Australia and Bangladesh, the hors douevres for the Ashes summer. Bangladesh were there to make up the numbers, but in one of the most extraordinary upsets of modern times, they beat Australia to record a famous victory. Man for man, the Aussies were way ahead, but a combination of grit, determination and no end of skill saw the minnows home. And we are talking here about a developing country with hardly any infrastructure to develop the game. But what they did have that day was fire in their bellies.

These two games are a metaphor for the current England team and Mike Brearley, who was a Test player then and is now a psychotherapist would make a field day of the analogy. This latest performance is Kingston University 1977 personified. For no kit read no motivation, and an inevitable thrashing assured. The England players literally giving their wickets away with pathetic shots, and as the Aussies strolled to the miserable target of 111, the England fielders wandered around thinking of the equivalent of my Geography student girlfriend.

It certainly did not have to be like that. Sure, England have taken a pounding over the past two months, but how much more motivation does a team need than a packed Adelaide Oval on Australia Day with the crowd baying for the Poms' blood? Isn't that motivation enough for Duncan Fletcher to say, 'Look, we know we are not favourites for the game, but if we can win, we are likely to make it to the final. Look what Bangladesh did to the Aussies in 2005. Go out and do it and shut these 30,000 fans up, and make their Australia Day a miserable day'?

Apparently not. The body language, miserable faces, lousy batting, bowling and fielding (Monty Panesar excepted, he bowled well), tell us a lot about the current state of English cricket. More to the point, it tells us a lot about Fletcher, who for my paltry amount of money is a poor coach. Yes, I know he won us the Ashes in 2005, but he's done nothing since. It's time for him to go if that is all he can serve up.

Unless England beat New Zealand, they are on the plane home. The decorated heroes from 2005, with their MBEs, and photo albums of open-top bus parades through London. And the irony? This Australia Day, not one member of the latest Australian Ashes-winning squad was given any recognition for their remarkable 5-0 achievement.

Can English cricket morale get any lower? Let Sportingo have your thoughts on the tourists’ demise Down Under.