MY FIRST ASHES MEMORY: The Gilchrist ramp that made me fall in love with the sport

I still don't quite understand Gilly's perfect combination of gusto, guts and guile

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The Cricketer asked our writers and former players to reflect on their introduction to the world's most famous Test series.

Today it's the turn of our digital content manager SAM MORSHEAD.

Remember Teletext? Remember hitting 302 to find those welcoming blue, white, yellow and green letters floating on a pitch black background, like an alphabet lost in space or the instruction manual to an MSDos programme no one really understood?

Remember the feeling of eternity for the scorecard to refresh, only to discover it had updated itself by two balls - one a dot, the other a leg bye?

Yep, that was my introduction to the Ashes; Michael Slater and Matthew Elliott scoring at two an over, reported via a digital black hole.

But, in truth, those memories are hazier than a Monday morning after a night on the razz in Bristol.

I can just about muster half-hearted flashbacks to news bulletins about England’s blitz of the Aussie top order at Edgbaston in 1997 - and Nasser Hussain’s subsequent double ton - and there are some vague recollections of Darren Gough’s SCG hat-trick 18 months later locked away, but barely enough to call me to the stand as a reliable witness.

Damien Martyn, Adam Gilchrist and Steve Waugh

But then there's 2001. 2001 was where it all began.

Looking past the fact that the series could only be called competitive by an Olympic boxing judge, there was enough on show to indoctrinate a relatively wide-eyed 14-year-old in the magical ways of the little urn.

I mean, if you got to grow up watching Hayden, Langer, Waugh, Waugh, Martyn, Ponting, Gilchrist, Warne, Gillespie and McGrath and didn't sit staring at their mastery then, let's face it, the tennis court or athletics track was a better bet for you.

MORE ASHES MEMORIES FROM THE CRICKETER: Channel 9, Beefy and Elton John

That summer, it didn’t take long for this particular aspiring wicketkeeper-batsman to realise a profound love for Australia’s innovator-in-chief, Adam Gilchrist. And I don't mean some sort of throwaway love. This was flowers-and-chocolate stuff.

I must have spent a solid fortnight in the garden trying to master the audacious shot that took Gilly to three figures in Birmingham - which, quite frankly, was never going to work. I mean, have you ever tried simulating a proper bouncer using only a tennis ball and a wall? Trust me, it doesn't work.

To this day I still don't quite understand the perfect combination of gusto, guts and guile that led to Gilly crouching in his crease, premeditating Andy Caddick’s premeditation and lifting that bouncer over Alec Stewart’s head.

It was also the summer I learned to appreciate Test Match Special for its every quip and whimsy.

Gilchrist celebrates series victory

The fourth Test - England’s gritty victory at Headingley, inspired by a marathon innings from Mark Butcher - occupied most of a family holiday to Cornwall, which for me was primarily spent shifting a portable radio between Fistral Beach and our hotel room in search of the best long-wave reception.

We visited the Eden Project and I had to be explicitly told the damn thing didn't belong among orchids and tropical butterflies.

Dad and I used to play indoor cricket in a converted auto repair shop and, such was the impact of that series, by the end I'd even started pretending I was Jimmy Ormond coming into bowl from the barn doors end. My father must have wondered why he had to bring me up during that particular era in England’s history.

But, looking back, that really didn't matter.

It didn't matter that we had been beaten inside 11 days, it didn't matter that I saw little more of Newquay than a radio dial, it didn't matter that Ormond only played one more Test for his country… I was hooked. I am still hooked. That's what the Ashes can do.

MORE ASHES MEMORIES FROM THE CRICKETER: Caddick, Ramps, Thorpe and the Cat

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