King of the jungle, but what now?

Not many Englishmen come out on top in Australia these days, but an unlikely one managed it this week. Phil Tufnell emerged as "King of the Jungle" in the ITV reality show I'm a Celebrity ... Get Me Out of Here! After a fortnight of privations, and the eviction of seven of the original ten contestants from a jungle camp somewhere in darkest New South Wales, Tuffers saw off the challenge of ex-Wimbledon footballer John Fashanu and TV designer Linda Barker to claim the celebrity crown won last time by, er, Tony Blackburn.

You've got to agree with Mike Soper, the former Surrey chairman who's now second-in-command at the ECB, that the Tufnell story is the best thing to happen to English cricket for ages. It certainly shades the Zimbabwe tour in the public interest, and Tufnell has become the most high-profile cricketer in England since Ian Botham's beefy heyday. Phil's jungle struggles have been the most-watched cricket-related content on the telly since Neighbours used to run its titles over a knockabout game in Ramsay Street.

Tuffers, of course, had a built-in advantage, being a cricketer. It's about the only sport known to man that features great long periods of forced inactivity. The average tailender can have a kip while the serious batting is being done, and there's always the likelihood of a downpour or two to keep you cooped up in the pavilion just a bit longer.

And the typical county dressing-room has more mini-dramas going on inside it than three episodes of Neighbours. Jealousies arise, dates are discussed as much as batting technique (or possibly more), largely unfunny practical jokes are perpetrated, sandwiches and tea are swilled down as if there's a national shortage, sponsorship deals are compared, the latest Test XI is routinely rubbished. Poor old Fash - all that macho chest-beating in a football changing-room doesn't set you up for a fortnight of sitting around waiting for it to stop raining. Yes, cricketers have got this one sewn up - for the viewer, a five-day Test is rather like a reality TV show unfolding in your living-room anyway.

It would be nice to think that Tuffers would be welcomed back to Lord's with a hearty handshake, and some grub that didn't move while he was eating it. But that's unlikely. John Emburey, Middlesex's coach, has dusted off his flannels at the age of 50, and hinted that most of Tufnell's votes came from disaffected team-mates keen to see him incarcerated in the Australian bush for as long as possible. After all, he did leave them in the lurch for two Championship games and a couple of one-dayers.

And if Tufnell tries to rescind his retirement and sign for another county, the registration rules will almost certainly get in the way. He'd be a contested signing, Middlesex having offered him a contract before the season, and anyway a potential new county might be worried that he'd be off like a shot to that new quiz show (Tuff Luck?) or the next find-me-a-house programme (Tuff Going?).

Maybe the ECB should try its own version of I'm A Celeb .... Set in the jungle, or maybe the car park at Derby, it could feature those old bosom buddies Ian Botham and Peter Roebuck, Tony Greig and Ian Chappell, Mike Gatting and Nasser Hussain, Phil Edmonds and Mike Brearley. What about Chris Lewis, and Rachael Heyhoe-Flint, and maybe Greg Matthews? Mix in a journalist or two to stir the pot (the Michaels Parkinson and Henderson, perhaps), and see who comes out alive on a diet of fish-paste sandwiches and weak tea. It's a winner - and it would be easier to find a sponsor for it than for the National League.