Exactly how much serious work do you suppose was done in the nets of county cricket clubs this week? Proper, concentrated training, I mean. Hazard a guess. My estimate would be none - or, at any rate, less than in any equivalent period since the beginning of the professional era. That's because everyone will have been mucking about, trying out the switch-hit.

It's the big new batting craze that the nation is talking about - not least since MCC met to ponder its legality and, reasoning that it is “exciting for the game of cricket”, decided to wave it straight through and worry later about the fiddly ramifications with regard to things such as the leg-before and no-ball rules. They're like that at MCC. “Hey, don't sweat the small stuff” is a phrase you always hear around the corridors of Lord's.

So the next time Kevin Pietersen fancies going right-hand to left-hand in the middle of the bowler's run-up and then tonking him for six across a thinly guarded area of the field, he can do so with official sanction.

All well and good, and great value for the paying customer, we're sure. At the same time, what about the bowler in the middle of all this? What's in it for him? MCC seems to be implying that the risk involved in switch-hitting hands something back to the deliverer of the ball - but even the risk-taking, in this case, rebounds to the glory of the batsman, whereas the poor old bowler just has to keep running in and taking the punishment.

Or does he? Not if he reads and digests our guide to switch-hitting from the bowler's point of view - five simple but effective ways to react if some self-adoring, publicity-hungry smart-arse attempts it on your watch.

1 Aim for his head

Whether he takes a left-hand or right-hand stance, the batsman's head will be in roughly the same place, give or take a few inches, and definitely at the same height. Time to crash in a few shorter ones, or even a reflection-encouraging beamer. Bounce a couple off his helmet and make him think twice about trying to play the Ginger Rogers to your Fred Astaire.

2 Increase the sledging

This almost goes without saying, but anyone who thinks your bowling is something he can mess with on his weaker side is clearly in need of a good talking-to. Might this be a good moment to reflect that the mindset of the switch-hitter hints at a little inner hesitation? Certainly you and all the close fielders should be suggesting as much. In other words, start banging a few down the biggest corridor of uncertainty of them all - the one in the mind.

3 Use rotten fruit

The old garden favourite whereby, unbeknown to the batsman, the bowler conceals a second missile in his hand and then, to the batsman's surprise and alarm, bowls not the ball but (for example) a wasp-destroyed windfall. Lots of fun. Now who's having a laugh?

4 Break out the jellybeans

OK, so it didn't work out too cleverly when England tried it against Zaheer Khan in the second Test against India last summer, but bearing in mind the mental issues alluded to above, dropping obscurely suggestive items of confectionery near the crease may be just the ticket when it comes to destabilising the wannabe switch-hitter, at least if you time it correctly and choose the right colour jellybean.

5 Bowler-on-bowler action

Two balls, two bowlers, one coming in from each end simultaneously. Double the action, double the fun, with collisions, run-outs, concussions - total Rollerball-style, hand-to-hand mayhem, and with the added value of getting the statutory overs bowled in half the time.

Switch-hit your way out of that little lot, Pietersen. Chaotic and not really anything much to do with cricket. But still great news for the game.

The Lucky Strike team

A strike by Formula One drivers? Count us in. Who would have thought the widespread industrial discontent predicted by this paper this week would spread as far as Robert Kubica? But the FIA has yanked up the drivers' licence fees and there is talk of action.

We say: “Out, brothers, out.” Enough is enough. No more shall the capitalist overlords ride roughshod over the humble worker. Timo Glock, are you with us? Let's hit them where it hurts.

Picket the Ritz in Paris. Organise a slow-rolling blockade around Casino Square in Monte Carlo. (Mind the one in front, Lewis.) Leave a mound of Breitling watches jamming the revolving doors of the Burj Al Arab hotel in Dubai. Your choice of banners: “Fair Play for the Tax Exile 20”, or “Can Pay, Won't Pay”. We're shoulder to shoulder with you on this one.

How the cheated prospered in athletics

Did those scientists understand the extent of the chaos they were about to unleash across the world of athletics by publishing the results of that research into performance-enhancing drugs? In tests, amateur athletes who had been told that they were taking a banned stimulant, but were in fact given something harmless, increased their performance nevertheless.

People are now nervously asking how far up this placebo thing goes. How many of today's athletes gain an unfair mental advantage by taking what they believe to be a banned steroidal substance but is actually a Fisherman's Friend cut into four and cunningly repackaged in an old pill pot?

IAAF regulations are notably vague on the subject of competitors who are found to be cheating in mind alone, but elsewhere legislators have been less reluctant to set down a few guidelines. Certainly Matthew in the Bible, writing some years before the Dwain Chambers case, reports Jesus taking a hard line in this area. “He who looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart.” By inference, he who has washed down a throat lozenge palmed off as growth hormone is technically a Dwain in all but the deed.

What's terrifyingly clear is that screening procedures are nowhere near sophisticated enough to net people who may be cheating in their heads. Urine samples won't do it. No list of proscribed medications could be long enough. Even lie detector tests may not be adequately sophisticated. It's a legal nightmare for the authorities.

And whither now the fundamental trust on which athletics relies? Imagine that you were a professional pentathlete whose coach had been slipping you what he assured you was a cracking cocktail of leading-edge performance enhancers, smuggled over from Eastern Europe, but which you later discovered was a selection of ground-up dishwasher tablets clumped together with the sherbet from a Sherbet Dip Dab.

You would feel (there's no other word for it) cheated, wouldn't you? Athletics will be a long time dealing with this.