It’s a sight burned into the memory of every Australian cricket lover. As a batsman trudges back to the pavilion after being dismissed for nought, a little cartoon duck wearing a cap and leg pads appears from the left of the television screen.
He is the picture of righteous indignation, furious at the injustice of a world that has conspired against him. As he nears the middle of the screen, he stops, plants his bat on the ground like a battle standard and glares haughtily at the unseen umpire (also, presumably, a duck) behind him.
Suddenly, reality hits. His whole body sags with the realisation of what has happened. His imperious scowl turns to a grimace of despair. A series of sorrowful quacks escape his beak. In shame, he claps a hand over his eyes. As a final self-humiliation, he turns his cap backwards on his head. Like the human batsman above him, he turns and stumps off to oblivion, dragging his now-flaccid bat behind him.