LESS than 48 hours to go and the conclusion to the summer's most gripping sports combat will start.

England and Australia will congregate at The Oval for their winner-takes-all summit meeting at which cricket's holy grail, the Ashes, will be the ultimate prize.

If England win or draw then the Ashes will be regained. Should the Australians prevail and level the series at 2-2 those Ashes will once more be infernally out of reach, staying put in Oz mitts.

Maybe now's the time for all good Englishmen, women, children, and Uncle Tom Graveney and all to pray for a five-day deluge of rain, hail, snow, locusts, plague of frogs, or whatever Biblical downpour can be arranged to fall from the skies starting from Thursday morning.

Given how England so valiantly and vigorously shrugged aside the opening Test defeat at Lord's to initiate a rambunctious reverse swing in fortunes, perhaps such celestial interference should not be implored. Skipper Michael Vaughan and his men have shown both in the build-up to the Ashes and during the actual Anglo-Australian conflict that they have no need to fear anyone.

The major incentive is that history beckons for the 11 men in three-lioned white. Vaughan has already feted his charges as sporting heroes, and to many others they are, but reclaiming those Ashes will confer that status on them for eternity.

England's cause this summer has been supremely aided by being able to name an unchanged side. Consistency in selection has been matched by consistency in performance once the Lord's blip was negotiated.

Now ahead of The Oval conflagration there is a doubt over Simon Jones, England's leading wicket-taker in the series so far.

It is the variation and vim of England's attack that has so unhinged the world champions throughout the series so England will be hoping that the current confidence that he will keep fit is not misplaced.

If he does not recover from the ankle injury that reduced him to a hobbling spectator for the last nail-biting day at Trent Bridge can you imagine just what either of his replacements Paul Collingwood or James Anderson will be going through.

They will both be yearning to play for their nation in what could be one of the most momentous conquests in English cricket folklore. They will want a slice of that surely, who wouldn't. But if either gets the nod to play they will surely be accompanied by that phantom apprehension of 'what if it all goes pear-shaped?'

The pressure is weighing down on England now to see out the enthralling, absorbing, inspirational and winning exploits which have gone before. And that has to be done against a team scarred and raked by the blows to their reputation as all-conquering Aussies.

There is no more dangerous an opponent than a wounded Oz cricketer, especially if that ageless warrior Glenn McGrath returns to supplement the snarling fury of the visitors.

Let battle be enjoined - the nation awaits the white-hot theatre in the round that will be The Oval.

Hands up, who gets the vote

COMPARE and contrast.

Two Englands. One, a dynamic and daring force, led by a man for whom the team ethic has been ingrained by his predecessor and supplemented by a management team that has meticulously put England's cricketers in with a genuine chance of conquering the world.

The other, an insipid outfit, led by a man for whom formations are tinkered with to make sure HE gets a game and backed by a national coach, whose preparations seem driven more by the fatuous kink of celebrity as his motley crew toil to get the better of Wales, let alone the world.

I know which one I currently prefer. Come on Vaughnie.

Updated: 09:16 Tuesday, September 06, 2005