FRESH, perky, quick on his pegs, and blessed with a wide range of shots, Michael Clarke is a fine batsman to watch. Add a strong team ethic and an astute cricketing brain and his merits become obvious. All the more reason to celebrate the Australian vice-captain's timely return to form.

Not that he had exactly lost touch. Instead, he had kept losing his wicket at inconvenient moments. At times the fates seemed to be conspiring against him. Followers of the racing at Flemington will know the part chance has to play in sport. Cricket is no different. Sometimes it is a matter of a faint edge or a close shave or a rejected appeal. And cricket has a shark's nose for those down in the dumps, eats them for breakfast.

Clarke has been hitting the ball sweetly until the last over of the day, whereupon he'd fall foul of some mishap or other and depart with a shake of the head. In Bangalore he probed forwards to Zaheer Khan, only to be confounded by a rare inducker. The raised finger was inescapable. In Mohali he thrust a pad at a googly delivered from around the wicket and was again shatteringly dispatched. So near and yet so far, a minute from a satisfied smile and a new dawn.

To make matters worse, his spinners had stopped spinning and his team was losing. Immensely to his credit, Clarke remained bright as a button even in the face of these adversities. Behind the scenes he must have been hurting, but publicly he retained his jauntiness. Nor did Delhi bring any immediate relief. After two mind-numbing days in the field, the Australians faced a formidable opponent moving in for the kill. Doubtless, Clarke was desperate to play his part in the last-ditch effort to retain a grip on the Border-Gavaskar Trophy.

That fate was a wicked sense of humour is a fact known by every sportsman. As night follows day, Australia's most puckish batsman found himself facing the final over of the third evening. Imagine Clarke's emotions as he settled over his bat. Imagine his butterflies as he prepared for the sixth ball. Of course Amit Mishra tried another wrong'un.

Clarke stepped back warily, saw the ball spinning back towards him and at the last instant jabbed at it, only to despair as the willow became entangled in a pad flap. Every Australian feared the worst, every fieldsman felt an appeal in his throat.

And then at the very last second, something happened. The bat touched the ball. It was the faintest snick and, at the end of a gruelling day, the umpire might have missed it. But Aleem Dar was alert and Clarke lived to fight another day.

Nor was luck quite finished with Australia's most optimistic player. No sooner had Clarke resumed his innings on the fourth day than he danced down the pitch intending to lift over mid-off. To his dismay he did not middle the stroke and was reduced to helplessness as it flew high above landfall but towards Ishant Sharma. It was another moment frozen in time. Arguably the match depended in its outcome. To the batsman's relief, the beanpole let the ball speed through his fingers..

Thereafter Clarke played with a responsibility befitting a vice-captain and recognising the efforts of his predecessors. In his first spell in the team he was adventurous and occasionally impetuous.

Now he adjusted his game to meet circumstances. Not that he slept on the splice. Even his defence is energetic, as his captain's had been in his early years. Knowing that runs were precious, he did not exactly chase them but nor did he spurn them.

Clarke easily repulsed India's previously lively seamers, amongst whom only the irrepressible Ishant posed a threat, and he was given a spread field. Mahendra Dhoni's reluctance to back his leading paceman was inexplicable. Wise captains strike while the iron is hot.

Nor did the spinners create many headaches on a slowing fourth-day surface. Just in case, Clarke set out to dictate their length. His footwork has long been nimble and was used to good effect. Repeatedly he darted down the pitch to tap the ball into gaps, often scampering a second run. He has a rare ability to play shots on the move so that the single becomes part of the stroke.

Unless the ball landed well outside leg stump, he avoided pad play.

Final confirmation that luck had changed sides came shortly before tea. Having reached 90, Clarke played a rash stroke at Virender Sehwag and cursed himself as the ball dropped into V.V.S Laxman's hands at mid-wicket. It was a sitter, and it was spilled. He did not learn his lesson.

On 94 he heaved again and was dropped again. When fortunes turns, it does so with a vengeance. By now the Indians had gone to pieces in the field, a feebleness hinting at disintegration. They had not held a single snare in the innings.

Thanks to Clarke, Australia have lived to fight another day.