And much like our favourite codes right now, we’re fickle, forgetful and way to frightful.

Put simply, we’ve all lost our way.

A once proud sporting nation has, by and large, is now kooky. Our national sides are cooked. Cricket. Rugby league. Rugby union, tennis... all shot ducks.

Well, almost. But I’ll get to that in a moment.

Right now, the plight is real.

Life seems to be imitating sport, and it’s alarming.

Cricket is more T20 and less Test match, these days. There’s less demand on seeing out the dot balls and valuing your wicket, and more desire for ramping sixes and the unorthodox-but-spectacular. Since when has a cross-bat slap through mid-off been a ‘beautiful shot’? 

Patience is a virtue, but not a valued one in cricket.

So it’s little wonder the cricketing public, too, has lost patience with an under performing Australian XI. We want success, and it must come now (just not with the assistance of any grade of sandpaper).

Rugby league’s off-season has been punctuated by off-field mar after mar after mar, and then the odd story about Sam Burgess’ marital woes when it suits.

The soap opera is seemingly more prevalent than anything actually rugby league. Tune in to the Bold and the Beautiful. Go on. And while there try and decipher the difference between Dylan Napa and Ridge Forrester. It’s nigh on impossible. 

Results still matter, don’t they? Here’s hoping they do come March.

On our sporting landscape, at least, rugby union is the out-of-sight-out-of-mind case.

Not on free-to-air TV. No Super Rugby franchise is making waves and, of late, it’s been more Wobbalies than Wallabies. Winning is the only currency worth anything in sport, and rugby’s not winning much at the moment.

When does the Super Rugby season start … has it started already? Who knows. Will we ever find out?

No doubt, though, we’ll all be back on that bandwagon one day. After all, everyone has a Wallabies scarf in their bottom draw.

And tennis. Yep, who cares? Nick Kyrgios and Bernie Tomic don’t, so why should we? 

No one is interested in Bernard, as he puts it, counting his millions while he’s off in the jungle (for all of five minutes). And the Kyrgios brain-snaps began a little Marat Safin-ish, or John McEnroe-eque, if you will, which was endearing to a degree - the super-brat looked to be back.

But by the 15^th walk-off or blow-up or fade-out, it became just plain childish. Kyrgios is no super-brat. He’s more super-simpleton.

Let’s not be fooled. We deserve better.

Because Australians love their sport. It’s part of our fabric. And when a sport loses its way, we, the fans, all go with it. Something about life imitating sport.

Tennis is the perfect case.

Pat Rafter’s been gone now for a while now. Lleyton Hewitt, too, has had his best days in the books now for over a decade. 

Right now, we’ll cheer on anyone with a bit of go about them. Basically anyone other than Tomic and Kyrgios. Two players with immense talent but less ticker than a digital watch.

Can you see that though? Up ahead. It was faint, but now it’s beaming. The light at the end of the tunnel.

There stands Alex de Minaur and Ash Barty. In one hand a racquet, the other a torch so bright we’re all clamoring over the lounge to find the remote to turn on the tennis again.

(Note: It’s now on channel nine, not seven. Will probably only take me three years to remember that).

And in the blink of an eye, Australian tennis is back. The future so bright it’s glorious, too.

Sure, de Minaur and Barty aren’t going to go on and emulate the likes of Federer, Nadal and Williams, but we don’t need them to, do we?

Australians, we just need someone not to be like Kyrgios. Someone not prone to the semi-regular Tomic tantrum one game into the first set.

Just someone with a bit more class about them at a press conference. 

Barty and de Minaur certainly seem like those players, and much more.

Both made their respective finals of the Sydney International last week, de Minaur winning while Barty was seriously unlucky not to claim the title.

Still, we’ve got two Australian tennis aces the country can seriously get behind. Finally.

All heart, all hustle … never mind the super-brat, that never-give-up attitude is back. And it’s arrived right on time.

This week, the Australian Open is in full swing. We’ll likely (hopefully) see both Barty and de Minaur progress deep into the tournament.

We’ll still likely hear there’s a fourth and fifth episode of Napa’s nude escapades, and no doubt the Aussie cricket team will drop an ODI against India at some stage, causing all-out panic across the nation and rugby, well, we’ll probably still hear nothing there ... but at least, now, we have the tennis.