Is it all going down the Swanee for Australia? Their children are getting fat, their women have lost the Ashes and 10 days ago they tried to ban the word "mate" from Parliament House. "I have never seen anything so criminal in all my life," said a shocked Bob Baldwin, the liberal backbencher, at the news. But that was before the Trent Bridge Test.
The Australians now have the look of a troupe of born-again Christians, suddenly hit by collective doubt. They smile, but the eyes are empty. The baggy-greens are on but nobody is at home. And there are questions, questions everywhere.
Is Ricky Ponting too defensive? Why has he lost two tosses in a row? How did the bails not come off when Brett Lee hit the stumps? Did we really bowl 18 no-balls before lunch on Friday - and if so how? Why was Adam Gilchrist stuttering nervously with shifting eyes when interviewed after play on Channel 4? Will big, bold Matthew Hayden ever get another run? Can the crowds be any more nasty? When will we start fielding well again? How did Andrew Strauss catch that catch? Why is the rub of the green suddenly blue?
The captain loses his temper, shouting obscenities at the (delighted) England balcony, and has to make a humiliating apology. The deadly team metronome is injured and has to watch with a pained look from the dressing-room. The blond talisman is talking a good talk - "I can absolutely guarantee that we're going to do it in these next two Test matches." But look behind the sunglasses. He cannot believe what is happening; surely his last Ashes tour cannot have come down to this?
It is England now who have the swagger. They walk with purpose. They huddle convincingly. The celebrate endearingly. They bond, they gel - from posh Strauss to goofy Hoggard, cerebral Vaughan to homeboy Harmison. Kevin Pietersen, exile at Trent Bridge in a Nottinghamshire cap is a hero there for England. Michael Vaughan's team have slipped under the door and stolen that Australian concept of mateship from right under their noses - and all inspired by the lemon-faced Duncan Fletcher, whose mysterious behind-the-scenes charisma may be released as both an eau de toilette and perfume in time for Christmas.
This England team do things that old England teams never did: the sort of dressing-rooms that greeted newcomers with a quick up and down and a stony silence, which left Andrew Flintoff chilled on his Test debut against South Africa and many others feeling as if somebody cold and large had walked over their grave. They have learnt mutual support, jealousies are kept hidden - and those who are struggling are not left alone to kick their feet in the dust. In the words of the ubiquitous post-match interview, "We are all pleased for each other." In the huge shadow of Andrew Flintoff , Geraint Jones found his feet on Friday afternoon. When the snaggle-toothed and, until this Test, little used Matthew Hoggard got his wickets his team-mates ruffled his hair so hard that he might have advertised Mrs Tiggywinkle's ironing service. When 12th man Gary Pratt ran out Ponting, he was swamped by his team-mates and Flintoff raised him what seemed 20 feet into the air.
That just could not have happened in the past. Michael Atherton would have cricked his back and been in a corset for three months; Alec Stewart would not have risked a crease to his trousers.
Even the press are joining in. Channel 4, whose coverage of cricket began in 1999 when England were bottom of the world and sinking fast, are buzzing on victory. The dream team of Geoffrey Boycott and Richie Benaud sound as if they have never shared such exciting times. Simon Hughes cheerfully plucks rabbits out of thin air, despite his summer imprisonment in a small van, and Mark Nicholas just lets the excitement rush over him like an all-body massage. All will be missed next year when cricket swaps terrestrial for satellite and the laddishness of Sky.
England, meanwhile, go onward, a merry band of brothers with wide eyes already looking towards the gleaming Jerusalem of The Oval. Victory is a great adhesive and, as Australia are beginning to discover, defeat a cricketing Teflon.