On countless occasions in the past two years cricket pundits have put David Warner and Shaun Tait into the same bracket. They appeared to represent the respective facades - batsman and bowler - of the game's shifting landscape.

In 2009 Warner exploded onto the international scene, scoring a swashbuckling 89 (off 43 balls) against South Africa at the MCG.  Since his eye-catching debut, he has widely been considered a Twenty20 specialist.

I remember that fateful night fondly. When Warner took to the field, he became the first person to represent Australia without playing first class cricket since 1877.

He was proof to us all that park cricketers could ‘wow' a crowd on one of world sport's biggest stages.  There was something wonderfully obtainable about his happy-go-lucky approach to the game.

For those who were sceptical about cricket's latest craze, he was an instant figure of derision; someone who personified everything that was wrong with the modern game.  No skill.  No technique.  No penance.

Even Warner's harshest critics must surely respect his transformation as a cricketer.  In the past two years he has focussed on the longer version of the game and has turned himself into a viable alternative at the top of the national batting order.

In 11 first-class matches he has averaged 60, including three centuries and three half centuries.  His inclusion in the squad to face New Zealand in the first Test at the Gabba bears testament to a man who wasn't simply content to be typecast.

It's like when Jim Carrey starred in ‘The Truman Show' in 1998.  Above all else, he wanted to show the world that he was adaptable.  To seek ‘more' when a comfortable living can be made doing ‘less' is commendable in any walk of life.

Conversely, Shaun Tait appears to be happy to be typecast.  It must be strange for the 28-year-old to see the likes of James Pattinson, Mitchell Starc and Ben Cutting drafted into the national team.

These days Tait floats around the world, delivering short, brutal spells, spitting teeth at batsmen. At Lords in 2010 he was clocked at 161.1kph; the second fastest ball of all time.  What does such a statistic mean?  Absolutely nothing.

I've never understood bowlers (and humans) who are obsessed with speed.  I'd much rather watch Glenn McGrath or Shaun Pollock bowl a nagging spell any day of the week.  They were both patient, determined, skilled, exciting bowlers to watch.

When I watch Shaun Tait bowl it reminds me of a gunslinger riding into town at sunset with a Smith and Wesson, firing aimlessly outside a saloon, hoping there are casualties and later bragging about being the quickest draw in the west.

I remember Tait's Test debut in Nottingham in 2005.  On the first day he ripped Marcus Trescothick's off stump out of the ground with a brutal in-swinging yorker.

The unplayable ball reflected Tait's immense natural talent.  It should have been the start of a wonderful career.  Unfortunately, he lacked the dedication and longevity to fulfil his talent in the test arena.  He only played two more tests before retiring from Test cricket, finishing with five wickets at an average of 60.

Perhaps I'm being a bit harsh on Shaun Tait.  He did chose the least ergonomically sound bowling action I've ever seen (with sincere apologies to Lasith Malinga).  However, unlike Warner, he never possessed the hunger to succeed at the elite level.  Without hunger, a sportsman, as with a writer, amounts to nothing.

If David Warner is Jim Carrey branching out, then Shaun Tait is Nick Giannopoulos, content to make ‘Wog Boy II'.

I'm rapt for David Warner.  It will be intriguing to see how he applies himself at the Gabba.  Will he back his technique to prevail?  Is he capable of exercising the necessary patience to succeed at Test level?  Can he pile even more pressure on Ricky Ponting?

It's a riveting scenario.  Numerous questions have arisen in the past week and only time will reveal the answers.  This is why I love sport.  Like millions of people across the country, I'll be glued to my television set on Thursday.  Sounds just like the Truman Show, doesn't it?