KEY POINTS:
With a lull in sporting action, it was a weekend for cricket contemplation and I came out of it determined, against better judgment, to give Twenty20 a decent go.
Tomorrow night's clash between New Zealand and Australia in Perth is already significant for one reason - it is a 20,000 sellout. And where the crowd goes, the media must follow.
I have, as an Australian cricket writer urged recently, stood at the barricades on this one so far, eager to repel a frivolous invader.
Cricket has and will always be about test matches, although I'm quite happy for others to revel in the contrivances of the one-day game so long as tests are not unduly affected.
In all honesty, the thought of this Twenty20 cricket slog-fest taking over still sends shivers up the spine, but then again, you've got to move with the times. Maybe.
So what of this Twenty20 lark? Is it really a Trojan Horse, ready to tear real cricket apart, or will it take the place of the 50-over version in providing mass appeal and money and actually help keep the game of whites in the black.
It does appear inevitable that Twenty20 is about to storm ahead and maybe it will be a good thing in the long run.
For a start, it should alleviate the problems of crowd control that are apparently so bad in Australia that their cricket bosses have hired Merv Hughes, he of handlebar moustache fame, to help put a handbrake on bad crowd behaviour. Sixty fewer overs should take the fizz out of bad alcohol-inspired behaviour and create a more family-oriented atmosphere.
And being so radically different to test cricket may in fact help the players distinguish between the two disciplines, rather than have their techniques confused by the 50-over and test games. Twenty20 should also be less draining than 50-over contests, and thus leave the players fresher for action.
The big concern about Twenty20 is that upon delving into it, we will find there is nothing actually to delve into. In other words, one of the great things about cricket is its endless subtleties and nuances, the mysterious and the magic, and most of all the ability of its greatest practitioners to take a brutal confrontation and turn it into something elegant.
For me, the most wonderful of all sporting sights has always been that of a Greg Chappell or Martin Crowe facing up to a dangerous missile that us mortals would struggle to even see, and stroking it across the turf in the manner of an artist at ease at the easel.
The great pleasure in witnessing that would be severely diminished if the same great strokemaker spent the next 20 minutes attacking the ball with all the finesse of a drunken woodchopper.
I would hate to see the cricket artists being forced to prostitute their glorious talents. I don't want to see Ricky Ponting made to look a fool because he needs to score 96 off the last over.
Just as importantly, I would hate to see a great bowler like Shane Bond or Brett Lee turned into a turkey, or a Shane Warne forced to chicken out when it came to his turn. Heaven help us if the cannons of cricket are themselves turned into fodder, or if the dull fingers of spin are allowed to give a rude salute to the rediscovered magic of the wrist.
Most of all, I hope this new game does not turn out to be a flat-track lottery with no distinguishing of great teams and players from the rest, with class and character cut to pieces by the wild swinging of bats.
As you might gather, these are the things I fear will happen in Twenty20. Yes, the 50-over game has its weaknesses, most notably that it can prove to be a waste of a day in our time-pressured lives.
But at least it is a game where the cream can still come to the top and variations of the traditional skills are treasured, whereas a further diminished game invites a contest of homogenised hogwash.
Maybe Twenty20 cricket needs to up the skill demands, and maybe this should involve cricket authorities looking back to the concept originally envisaged by Crowe, who was the trailblazer with his Cricket Max.
Crowe instigated zones on the field for which batters could aim at to score extra runs. Reintroducing scoring zones would help further distinguish Twenty20 cricket from the real game, and also force greater skill out of batters, bowlers and fielders, not to mention the captains.
I really fear for the bowlers' lot in this form of the game however, because the batters' wickets will have extremely diminished values. It's not all that I fear either.
What of cricket writing, should this all-action rookie take complete control.
Cricket has inspired many of sport's best wordsmiths. I wonder, for instance, where the most wonderful of New Zealand cricket writers, my former colleague DJ Cameron, might have turned in his quest to cover Twenty20 for the Herald.
Twenty20 looks fertile ground for hurried, sterile lines and endless cliches. As for the frantic audio that is likely to come out of the commentary boxes ... But this is a time to have an open mind.
Twenty20 might draw in the punters, players and pennies, but will it leave cricket as a game worth having? Hopefully, the necessary steps schedules and guards are in place to keep sport's most precious gift, test cricket, in a safe place.
So, I remain sceptical about Twenty20, but open to persuasion.
