Matthew Hayden is rolling around on the grass trying to eye-gouge Ishant Sharma, while Harbhajan Singh is poking his saliva-laden tongue out at Ricky Ponting, who has taken off Singo’s turban.

Brad Hogg is doing his best to get MS Dhoni’s goat, while Anil Kumble is threatening to take his bat and ball home, as Roy Symonds takes a swing at Singo for making monkey noises as Harbhajan claims it’s wind from a bad vindaloo.

Suddenly the bell goes, and a dude with a blonde Warwick Caper mullet, three chins and a licence to print play money drives up in a black Ferrari, burning rubber and investors as he goes.

Fast Eddy Groves gets out the car, dribbling badly. He flicks the basketball to his faithful assistant Leroy Loggins.

“Okay, listen up people, Cricket Brat Camp will fall in!”

He confiscates Roy’s bat and starts whacking backsides.

“Right, I’ve been approached by the International Cricket Council to whip you punks into some sort of shape. Due to a slight contraction in my business, give or take 300 childcare/business units in the US, I have some time on my hands.”

“Oh yeah! What would you know about first-class cricket, fat ass!”

“Shut up Ricky. Your online betting account is frozen until further notice. Now listen up people. I know child care. I know what we have going here, between you cry-baby Indians and bully boy Aussies is a simple case of arrested development.

“Is that so, you dumb b******!” Hoggy says.

“Sir! Sir! That rotten Aussie just called you a name! But not half as bad as the one he called me, just because I wear a head covering there’s no need to call me Sock-Head!

“You’re close, mate.”

“Hoggy, as of now, your wrong ’un is confiscated. And Harbhajan, stop tattle-taling all the time. Has it ever occurred to you that you really could be an obnoxious little weed? Fellas, it’s simple as ABC, your conduct could all do with a serious makeover. I’ve got nothing against sledging … it’s just that yours are so infantile.

“Now, let’s do some play acting. Haydos, you can be Mark Waugh greeting Pommie Jimmy Ormond coming out to bat, and Dhoni, you can be Jimmy.

“Now Junior Waugh says to Jimmy, ‘How come you’re not good enough to play for England’, and Jimmy, you reply to Mark, ‘At least I’m the best player in my family’.

“Now Ricky, you be Rod Marsh to Kumble’s Ian Botham as he takes guard. Punter, say in your best Bacchus, ‘So how’s your wife and my kids?’

“Anil! What are you crying for! Oh, Ricky spilt your milk. Now everyone, after a kinder nap, we’ll pack up, go on our little ICL Twenty20 field excursion to India. Won’t that be fun for all you cheeky little monkeys!”