From Imran Coomaraswamy, United Kingdom

	A familiar sight for Chris Martin © Getty Images

They just don’t make them like they used to. The genuine rabbit, a creature prone to prodding meekly at balls outside off stump and liable to leap out of the way of anything close to the body, is now an endangered species in international cricket. Everywhere we look, tailenders are working hard at their batting and scoring more runs. The members of the Australian fast bowlers' union are the worst tailenders of the lot. Glenn McGrath, surprisingly but fittingly, led the way in 2004 by reaching a half-century at the 115th time of asking. Since then, we’ve seen courageous final stands in the 2005 Ashes, fifties aplenty, Mitchell Johnson’s heroic hundred and Dizzy’s frankly ridiculous double.

Here in England, Duncan Fletcher orchestrated a ruthless rabbit cull. Dear old Monty managed to survive, but only because he is every bit as industrious as he is inept, in contrast to his undeniably indolent predecessors Phil Tufnell and Devon Malcolm. However, all is not lost for rabbit-lovers. In seamer Chris Martin, New Zealand, warren of some pedigree - Ewen Chatfield, Danny Morrison and Geoff Allott spring to mind - have produced a very fine specimen indeed. What's more, there is a strong case for anointing Martin as the worst batsman Test cricket has ever seen. Not many players have managed to chalk up fewer runs than wickets over their career. Martin, however, has in 50 tests scored only half as many runs (82) as he has taken wickets (165). He has an overall batting average of 2.34, but a closer look reveals that, like many others in recent times, he has feasted on minnows.

If we exclude his innings against Zimbabwe and Bangladesh (in which he has ruthlessly plundered 16 runs without being dismissed), his average plummets to 1.88. Among all those who have batted ten or more times in Tests, no one has fared worse. Roughly speaking, a third of his visits to the middle have resulted in ducks (25 of them), another third have seen him stranded on zero, and the final third have produced single digit scores. (The one exception, his magnum opus of 12 not out, was achieved against Bangladesh; his best against a major nation is merely a magnificent 7). If he continues at this rate, Courtney Walsh’s world record for the most ducks (43) won’t be intact for much longer. These figures are astonishing, but what of the things statistics cannot convey - technique, style, image, impact?