Aussies ponder life after Warne

With the Ashes reclaimed, the series won 5-0 and history rewritten, Australia captain Ricky Ponting had exacted a ruthless revenge for 2005.

But in some ways the sense of loss in the Aussie camp was almost as great as the disappointment in England's whitewashed ranks.

The reason was simple. Arguably the greatest team the game of cricket has ever seen is no more, after the fifth Test in Sydney saw the sun set on the international careers of Justin Langer, Glenn McGrath and Shane Warne.

And, while that might be good news for English batsmen and bowlers, for cricket aficionados it was a sad day.

Without Langer, Australia are shorn of one of their most pugnacious characters, an opening batsman prepared to shed honest sweat and often blood in the cause of seeing off an opposing pace attack.

Without McGrath, Australia are stripped of arguably the best fast-bowling exponent of line and length in modern times.

But it is the retirement of Warne which goes to the core of Australian sport. Without Warne, Aussie cricket loses its heartbeat.

His swashbuckling, top-scoring 71 in Australia's first innings from number eight in the order was prime evidence of that, every bit as much as the crucial second-innings wicket of England captain Andrew Flintoff and the way he matched fire with verbal fire when England's cricketers misguidedly took him on in the sledging department.

Imagine how Brazil fans must have felt when Pele took off the famous yellow shirt for the last time and you are not far from the thoughts of the average Aussie.

Warne’s final statistics: 708 Test wickets, 1,001 international wickets, 3,154 Test runs.

By themselves, they are phenomenal, even if he never scored a Test century and his Test-wicket haul is likely to be overtaken by Sri Lanka's Muttiah Muralitharan.

It was Warne's ability to bring dramatic theatre to the cricket pitch, plus the fact that he single-handedly revived the art of leg-spin bowling, which earns him his place at the top table in sport's hall of fame.

Fifteen years ago, words like slider and zooter never existed - not until Warne wrapped his fingers around the seam of a cricket ball.

No two deliveries in an over have been the same when he has been bowling.

It helped that the mystique received a kick-start with what has become known as the ‘Ball of the Century’ to Mike Gatting in the summer of 1993.

The nonplussed look on Gatting's face, mouth contorted into an ‘O’ of bemusement as he stood motionless for several seconds before accepting he had been bowled, is one of sport's iconic images.

So began a career which has been part pantomime, part fairytale, part Aussie soap opera.

Full of women and gambling and a battle against weight. Full of headlines on front page as well as back, including the 12-month ban he received for taking forbidden diuretics for which his explanation was that he was only doing what his mum had told him. Only the mischievous Warne could come up with that one.

So often, however, his contribution has been the pivotal one. Such as his five-wicket haul in England' second innings in Adelaide last month which opened the door for Australia's destruction of the tourists.

If his bowling in his final Test at times looked tired and just a shade short of that quality then he could be forgiven that, because, unlike England's cricketers, he continued to make a vital contribution elsewhere.

Make no mistake - cricket fans the world over are going to miss his cheeky demeanour, his energy, his uncanny ability to make things happen even on the most unhelpful wickets and the constant cry of wicket-keeper Adam Gilchrist: “Bowled, Warney!”

English batsmen, however, for the first time in 15 years, can sleep soundly in their beds.