(Such an occurrence, incidentally, would appear highly unlikely, given I haven't eaten a bowl of Uncle Toby's finest in decades).

Anyway, when Duckett walked out to bat for Brisbane Heat against Melbourne Stars at the Gabba on Monday, I wasn't paying much attention until commentator Michael Vaughan started singing his praises, before he had even faced a ball.

Duckett did not let the former England captain down.

In the ensuing 43 minutes, he produced an array of audacious switch hits, reverse sweeps and ramp shots on his way to 54 from 35 balls, brazenly stealing the spotlight from the explosive Chris Lynn, who was simultaneously bludgeoning 57 from 34 balls.

Intrigued, I conducted some extensive research (Google) and discovered Duckett is a 27-year-old who has played for three English county teams and represented the Poms in four Tests, three ODIs and a lone T20 game five years ago.

Less than 24 hours later, in the wake of their Ashes capitulation, I found myself wondering if Ben Duckett exemplifies everything that is wrong with English cricket.

At the age of 22, England selectors identified Duckett as having the potential to play at Test level, only to discard him barely a month later, after seven innings left him with an average of 15.7.

Since then he has continued to ply his trade in county cricket and as a hired gun on the T20 circuit, in various tournaments around the world.

The skill set Duckett displayed at the Gabba on Monday night was remarkable, even by BBL standards.

Yet you won't last long batting that way in Test matches.

And therein lies the dilemma for English cricket. Are they picking their best players in the Test team?

The likes of Duckett, James Vince, Alex Hales and Sam Billings have shown they are as good as any in the BBL, yet they appear to have been typecast as white-ball specialists.

And if that is how their bread is buttered, then what option do they have other than to be the best they can in the shorter formats?

That means focusing on big hits and risky shots in the nets, to prepare themselves for an innings that, if they're lucky, might last 50 or 60 balls.

In complete contrast, Test batsmen work tirelessly on their defensive techniques and the art of allowing the ball to pass harmlessly through to the wicket-keeper without a shot being offered.

The thing is that Duckett, Vince, Billings and company probably have the talent to convert themselves into decent Test players.

But do the likes of Rory Burns and Haseem Hameed have the skills to earn a living as T20 mercenaries? I highly doubt it.

Of course, a number of England's Test regulars are multi-format players, in particular Ben Stokes, Jos Buttler, Dawid Malan, Chris Woakes and Mark Wood.

But unlike their Australian counterparts, they seem to struggle with the transition from white ball to red ball.

The ultimate irony is that it is was the Poms who invented T20 cricket.

It probably seemed like a good idea at the time.

Way back in 2002, the powers-that-be running English cricket found themselves facing a conundrum that was likely to leave a substantial void in their schedule for the following season.

A ban on tobacco advertising meant Benson and Hedges, who for 30 years had sponsored an annual short-format competition for county teams (variously 50 or 55 overs apiece), would be withdrawing its funding.

The logical option would have been for the England and Wales Cricket Board (ECB) to find a replacement naming-rights benefactor.

Instead they started thinking outside the square.

Realising that interest had been waning in county cricket for decades, they gambled on a concept would revolutionise the game, not only in the Old Dart, but around the world.

So in 2003, the first-ever professional 20-over competition was launched, and pretty soon there weren't enough seats on the bandwagon.

Fans flocked to attend the new user-friendly format, with matches starting after most people had finished work and concluding just a few hours later.

The traditionally staid English game had been revitalised by razzamatazz and hype, but then the advent of the Indian Premier League in 2008 changed everything, irrevocably.

England's domestic T20 league was eventually superseded by the IPL, the BBL and myriad other tournaments that sprouted up around the world.

Interest dwindled accordingly, prompting ECB officials to launch a new 100-ball competition last season, in what seemed little more than a desperate gimmick.

Now the Poms are apparently losing ground on a host of fronts.

The T20 concept they created has been plagiarised by almost every other nation, creating a lucrative new career path for a generation of players.

Players who are confident, aggressive and innovative by nature, and who are not inhibited by a fear of failure.

Players like Ben Duckett, who may well have been a handy Test cricketer for England, in a bygone era.