'Let's Enjoy Warne in His Indian Summer in England'

Pinch me somebody. First England's rugby team wins the World Cup, now our cricketers are in the process of giving the West Indies a mother and father of a drubbing on their own turf. Yes, we have been waiting for the little matter of 36 years to say it, but it really doesn't get much better than this for England cricket supporters. Dare we even begin to think the Ashes might be regained when Michael Vaughan's men next face Australia? Certainly it makes for the best breakfast newspaper reading since Ian Botham was in his prime, and gives the biggest possible lift to the County Championship, which officially starts next week. Not that too much will be seen of our Test stars on the county circuit, courtesy of central contracts which are designed to keep the country's best in mothballs between international engagements.

But there will at least be one instantly recognisable face arriving at Heathrow this Saturday, even if the figure is distinctly less padded than once it was. Shane Warne will be making his way through customs with more of a strut than a waddle following his astonishing return to Test cricket in Sri Lanka, after injury and a ban for testing positive for a banned diuretic had kept him out of the game for 15 months. He is lean and fit as the proverbial flea, and seems likely to be seen in county matches more than his England counterparts as he leads Hampshire's campaign. And that fact alone makes it worth paying good money to watch at least a little of the county game this summer.

If there is a better cricketer in the world today, it is hard to see who that man is. Maybe Sachin Tendulkar is a rival, although it is questionable whether the brilliant Indian would make it into an all-time International Test XI. Similarly, Brian Lara at his best might still struggle for a place alongside Don Bradman and Viv Richards. But when the all-time selectors come to jot down the names of spinners to take on the universe, the name Warne would surely be the first to be written down, as the finest of this era and, quite possibly, ever.

"What about Muttiah Muralitharan?," I hear some say. He also has 500 Test wickets, achieving the magic number the game after Warne did, and at a quicker rate. But there has never been a murmur about Warne's action, while any number of batsmen have muttered "chucker" as they trudged back to the dressing room after being undone by something weird propelled by the Sri Lankan's supposedly flexibly jointed right arm.

Chris Broad, never one to duck an argument, deserves credit for referring Murali's action to the International Cricket Council once again. Only this week Broadie, who was the referee for the Sri Lanka-Australia series, told me: "I'm not saying he was throwing. But I am saying that in my opinion something doesn't look right. All I was saying was that in my view his new doosra delivery needs to be studied again." And many a batsman will say about time too.

The one question which will always remain in my mind about Warne is over his drugs ban. The excuse that he was taking drugs from his mum's handbag in an effort to lose weight seemed an odd one, not to mention a little suspect, especially since it is common knowledge that drugs of this type can be taken as masking agents for altogether more sinister performance-enhancing concoctions. Warne hears the whispers and has said with candour: "If I had been guilty of trying to hide something, if I had taken a diuretic drug to cover up a performance-enhancing drug, I should have been banned for life, but I didn't." But the doubts remain, with the cynical view being that he was taking something rather more invigorating than a diuretic in a desperate attempt to regain fitness to play the sport he loves.

Only Warne himself knows the truth of the matter, but one certainty is that the lay-off from cricket, when he was able to concentrate on his fitness, has probably extended his cricketing life by at least two years. His shoulder injury is healed, and the evidence from Sri Lanka, where he took 26 wickets in only three Tests, is that he is bowling as well as ever at 34 and enjoying each minute of his last chance.

Hampshire's director of cricket Tim Tremlett is brimming with enthusiasm for Warne's return to Hampshire, where he took 70 wickets in first-class matches in his only previous season in the county game four years ago. "He has the party-boy reputation," Tremlett says, "but really he likes nothing better at the close of play than to sit down with his team-mates or supporters and talk about cricket. Since he's been on his diet, he's not a big drinker and he can be a great influence for the team both on and off the pitch.

"The membership is buzzing about him coming back. First time he was here, I think a few of the players were a little overawed, but Shane is genuinely looking forward to being with Hampshire again and in my opinion we will have the biggest name in world cricket playing for our county. He doesn't look back, and has never denied he did wrong taking the drug. I think his time out of the game hurt him badly and made him realise just how much he still needed cricket and how much he still has to offer."

Shane Warne will always be seen as the archetypal Aussie and the most laddish of lads. According to a recent interview in an Australian women's magazine, he has walked away from the world of groupies and parties where he was once a legend and is re-dedicating himself to his wife Simone. Shades of Botham, who was given standing ovations by the Barmy Army camped out in Barbados this week. Drugs, women, booze and cricketing brilliance . . . We loved Beefy for it, and still do, and so it is with Warne. Let's hope cricket fans take the chance to enjoy Warne in his Indian summer in England, because his particular brand of cricket is priceless.

Ginger up in heaven but coming back next year

Aintree is not the formidable test it once was, although the jockeys and connections of the 28 horses that failed to make it round the Grand National might not totally agree with the former trainer Josh Gifford's claim that the fences have become "crappy little things". But the race does still have a capacity to create extraordinary stories.

Year after year we seem to have our emotions laid bare. It would be a hard heart that could not be touched by those wonderful pictures of Red Rum's old trainer Ginger McCain after he had seen Amberleigh House win for him again. "I've had such a lovely time here, you can take me round the corner and shoot me now. I don't give a monkeys," he said after another dramatic race, adding that he would be back next year to try to pick up another win.

From those of us who backed him and Amberleigh House, with unashamed sentimentality, and are now enjoying the winnings, good luck to the old boy.

In many ways Paul Scholes is an exemplary footballer and his goal that put Manchester United into the FA Cup final, ending Arsenal's treble hopes, was outstanding. But his challenge on José Antonio Reyes, which put the Spanish youngster out of the game for three weeks with damaged knee ligaments, was a disgrace.

Yet the only punishment for Scholes was a yellow card, the same as might be received for back chat to the referee or for deliberately handling or diving. Perhaps it is time the system of punishments handed out by referees was re-examined, possibly with consideration to a rugby style sin-bin, because it seemed grossly unfair that Arsenal's outstanding young player should have had his season interrupted at such a crucial time while Scholes and United effectively went unpunished.

So Dennis Wise and Millwall have made it to the FA Cup final, ready to carry the fight to United. The boxing manager and promoter Frank Maloney, a lifelong Millwall supporter, was delighted by his side's achievement, not least the fact that Millwall will qualify for the Uefa Cup because United are already assured of a place in the Champions League.

"Just think, we could be playing Galatasaray next year," said Maloney. "They'll have to cancel Europe after that one." I think he was joking, but the very thought of it is enough to make most football fans wince.

The anarchy of boxing's governing bodies has never been more clearly shown than by this month's four world heavyweight title fights. Next Saturday Vladimir Klitschko fights Lamon Brewster for the WBO title in Las Vegas. The following weekend John Ruiz fights Fres Oquendo for the WBA title and Chris Byrd defends the IBF crown against Andrew Golota. Finally Vitali Klitschko meets Corrie Sanders for the WBC title in Los Angeles. What chance have fans of making sense of that?