There is a little section in this paper which is the bane of my existence.

It is a tiny space which I am sure you have all noticed but maybe not considered the work involved in filling it each day.

It sits at the bottom of the opinion page with the little headline Word on the Street, followed by four tiny head shots and a quote belonging to each of the said people shown in the head shots.

That little strip is there to give you a chance to comment on the issues which appear in the paper.

Which is great, except try to find four people who don't mind having their photo taken on the spur of the moment, knowing that their friends, family, neighbours and very likely pets (today's news and all that) will be having a gander at it over breakfast the next day.

Yesterday in a moment of insanity I volunteered to take the little camera out and ask the people of the Sunshine Coast the important issues – you know, like whether they have kept their new year resolution or not. As I set out with my notebook and pen, preparing myself for the inevitable rejection after rejection after rejection, my chief of staff called out with a grin – if no one wants to answer that question you could always ask them how much cricket they've been watching.

Ah yes. The cricket.

The game which only a scant few days ago could barely prompt one of the many male heads in this office to swivel around to the televisions in the centre of the newsroom because South African players were the ones doing the happy dance around the pitch.

The last time Australia lost a Test series on home soil, I was in primary school. So I get it. I also get that maybe it is time for Matty Hayden to hang up the bat. Things aren't looking so good for Roy, either, and maybe Punter needs to have a harder look at what is going on.

Last week, no one wanted to talk about the cricket, other than to grunt or shake their head or offer excuses about why it all went so wrong.

I know this because last week I was sent out to judge the mood out on the streets after the six wicket loss.

Simmo, on holidays from Western Australia, seemed to sum it up when he looked at me, scratched his head and said "bloody Australians, bloody Haydo. Thank God for Clarke. Bloody embarrassing is what it was."

Yesterday, however, Australia seemed back in form. Maybe it was all that pink, maybe it was because they knew they were doing it for Jane McGrath.

But yesterday as I trudged along looking for people to tell me about how quickly they broke their resolutions, everyone wanted to talk cricket.

As those in the baggy greens demolished the Proteas' batting line up, the mood of those I was talking to was lighter.

No one wanted to answer the actual question, but chat to them about the cricket – stand back and watch the smiles.

The game's not over yet. And Australia still has some problems. But anyone who doesn't think sport matters should head out and have a chat to a few punters and see what they have to say.

Just don't take a camera.