Jarrod Kimber's Blog, page 34

Andy Flower smiles at beauty not numbers

Back in 1997, Andy Flower smiled. No one else was there. He was alone in his room after a match-drawing innings against Matabeleland. It was just him, some pieces of paper and an oil lamp. The paper was scorecards from Tests and first-class matches the world over. Andy had spent a lifetime collecting them, he had file cabinets built to accommodate them. Trusted colleagues would send them to him. When he was not fastidiously combing over VHS tapes of his technique or being fitter than a sheep dog, Flower was looking for something in all these numbers – he didn’t know what it was, but he knew it would give him an edge over someone else, and that is he wanted.

The smile came from an epiphany Flower had. Early wickets truly were the key.

The evidence was obvious. By keeping your top order out there for as along as possible, you made bowlers go into fourth, fifth and sixth spells. That would mean when the middle order came in, they could capitalise on a tired attack, a deflated field and scoreboard pressure. All that blood sweat and paperwork was worth it.

It is almost possible that the above is made up, and it was actually years of playing professional cricket around the world that taught Andy Flower valuable lessons that he formulated into team plans and regulations. At their best, the England team executed these plans in a brilliantly unthinking way. Alastair Cook refused to sweat or play a poor shot. Andrew Strauss stayed calm and did his job. Jonathan Trott refused to blink or attack. England won quite a bit of cricket.

There were other factors, players and tactics that they used, but it was their foundation. When it fails, they do too. The two most recent series England have lost were against South Africa and Pakistan and in both instances the top three averaged less than 30. That trend goes back to 2008 against South Africa, which was before Flower was coach. The last time England’s top three averaged below 30 and they won a Test series was against Sri Lanka in 2001. When Flower was still a Zimbabwe batsman.

It was always important always – no one ever says, let’s throw wickets away at the top so our middle order can save us. But England built a gameplan around it. And not just a gameplan, but an Andy Flower gameplan; it might as well be typed on gold paper and laminated.

This series England are averaging 29.21 for their top three. Yet, they are 2-0 up. So far, in order of occurrence, they’ve been 102 for 3, 121 for 3, 28 for 3, 30 for 3, 64 for 3, 27 for 3 and 149 for 3. It’s no 517 for 1. At the start of their second innings here, they were 49 for 3, which was 17 for 3 in the state of the game. Australia were on top. Ryan Harris looked like an immense Anime monster, Peter Siddle had not even come on yet. Yet by the close of play England had travelled comfortably to a 202-run lead.

Australia’s bowling attack is pretty good. They have five decent options and a part-time wristspinner. Their bowlers can hit the right lengths for long periods, they can build pressure, their lines have been very good and their captain can, on occasion, be very forward thinking. Against a top order not in perfect mechanical order, they’ve been good.

Cook has helped Australia, like he has helped many sides since the headier days of 2011. Back then it looked as if the only way to get Cook out was to send 200,000 protesters to Leicester Square and start a social media campaign. Now you just wait for him to play a bad shot. This year he is averaging 36. He has made no hundreds this series.

The praise that Joe Root gets at times suggest he is the Candyman, Johnny Cash and Jesus Christ rolled into one. Yet his back-foot technique is getting a working over by the Australians, who try not to let him use it. Root’s 180 at Lord’s was so good you hoped he didn’t have a flaw but if Australia had a fully functioning cordon and he had been caught on 8, he’d be averaging 12 in this series.

Something weird has happened to Trott of late. The Trott of legend, and Twitter infamy, was the much-scratching, overly defensive player. Now he’s been replaced by someone Steve McQueen could play in a film. He’s playing shots, and looking super cool doing it. He isn’t making runs, though. In this series he averages 24.25 with one fifty. His strike rate of 60 is higher than any other England batsman, including Kevin Pietersen.

Pietersen is not in great form but his hundred at Old Trafford saved the game for England. At Trent Bridge his 64 helped set up a winning total. And his partnership with Ian Bell on Sunday was what ended Australia’s hopes of having a good day. Australia have tried to play against his ego, and they’ve done well at times. But when he is in full form, he’s untouchable to them. At Old Trafford they tried to sledge him and he laughed at them while saying something along the lines of “Do you think I worry about going out? I don’t worry about that at all. Not at all.”

Then there is Bell. If the Avengers came up against Ian Bell right now, they would lose. Bell is supernatural. If Elvis ever found form like this, they would have renamed earth in his honour. The only way to slow his scoring down is with a third man, everything else is meaningless. Australia couldn’t get him to leave the wicket with a bulldozer and, in the form of Harris, they sort of have one. Bell can be weak against Saeed Ajmal’s doosra and his own mind. Australia have no doosras, and they can’t penetrate his mind. Ian Ronald Bell will stop dominating once he is good and ready.

Jonny Bairstow is a worry for England, and Matt Prior is in bad form. But by the time Australia get to them, they’re so far behind that it has rarely mattered.

It may not be England’s grand plan and they not be executing their skills in the way Flower would want, but they are better than Australia. Today, as Ian Bell floated around the crease, Andy Flower might have smiled again. It wasn’t a plan coming together; it was something prettier and more perfect than that.

Two men talk about cricket: recorded live at Durham

Chris Rogers waits no more

Chris Rogers was made to wait 19 balls, 30 minutes, 35 years and 344 days for his first Test century.

It was awkward, tense, ugly and hard fought. Much like most of Rogers’ career. From 96 to 100, it was even worse.

He went to 96 with style and authority. A full toss raced off Rogers’ bat to the cover boundary. It was a gift that Graeme Swann is prone to give but, given Rogers’ recent history with Swann full tosses, he might have thought it was trap.

Then Swann gave another gift. This one was short and cuttable. Rogers hit it well, but straight to point. Immediately he backed away, went for a walk, showed the annoyance with himself that betrayed how calm he had looked only a few seconds earlier. England saw it too. Prior’s noise level tripled.

Rogers tried to cheat a bit. Instead of waiting for the bad ball, or just pushing for a single, he tried to flick Swann against the spin. The ball took the leading edge and then it hung in the air on its way to mid-on for what seemed like hours. For Rogers, it must have felt like years. Eventually it dropped safely. Michael Clarke had his hands over his face. As did Swann, for another reason.

Rogers has to wait some more.

At the non-striker’s end Rogers watched Shane Watson, a batsman who is not renowned for his single taking, or his clear-headed running between wickets. Watson got one chance, but it became two. Then the umpires called drinks.

Rogers has to wait some more.

It may have actually happened, or it may have been imagined, but England stretched out the drinks break as long as they could. Rogers nervously squirted water in his mouth. Mouth wide open, squirting a new drop every second and half. He looked like a baby bird that was being fed. Occasionally Rogers would laugh politely at Watson’s attempt to lighten the mood.

Back at the crease, Matt Prior was back in his ear. England seemed to tighten the field by an inch each ball, Swann wouldn’t give him anything. Rogers found the inside half of the bat, England made it feel like the ball had hit the stumps without the bails coming off. Rogers brushed the pitch with his hand. It was the kind of gardening you do when you desperately don’t want to think about anything else.

Another leading edge looped up on the leg side. In real terms, it landed safely. In real time, it seemed to just drop at the last minute as it sailed easily towards a pair of hands.

Watson now looked nervous as well. His batting was aimed at getting Rogers on strike, and he couldn’t do it. England had tightened his field as well. That missed cut shot was affecting everyone. A ball into the leg side got him running, Rogers went too and there was a millisecond of confusion. Both men made it safely home. Neither looked safe. A ball was fired down the leg side to Watson, he got just enough bat on it to find the keeper.

Rogers has to wait some more.

Swann took the pad of Rogers, it was absolutely nowhere near out. So, in this series, it was worth a shout. England didn’t shout for the umpire’s benefit, they shouted for Rogers. It was turned down.

Then Swann got it absolutely right, a ball floating in to middle stump, taking the surface and spinning away hard. Rogers played back to it, completely beaten. He couldn’t have missed it by much more. England make more noise. They keep inching in.

Haddin now had to get a single but his first ball was dug one out off the inside of the bat, floating down to fine leg. Taking just one wasn’t really an option as Kevin Pietersen shuffled around. Then another full ball was dug out, breaking Haddin’s bat.

Rogers has to wait some more.

Swann continued bowling to Rogers. England wouldn’t take him off, Australia couldn’t buy a single. England continued to make noise, inching closer. Rogers now looked beaten. A whole innings of struggle, a whole life of it, seemed to be out there with him. People started to move behind the bowler’s arm. In 20,000 first-class runs he’d never had to deal with this many people moving, watching or judging. They move again.

Rogers has to wait some more.

A full faster one from Swann was seen completely differently by Rogers as he tried to cut it away. It almost bowled him as he almost edged it. It almost did everything. It is another dot ball.

Rogers stayed in the cut position for a long time. Staring down, frozen in fear and worry. There is no part of him that sees triple figures as a largely pointless statistical obsession. He refocused, tried to find something else.

Rogers makes everyone wait.

A sweep. One of cricket’s ugliest shots is how Rogers makes the runs. England go quiet, the crowd cheer. Rogers barely celebrates, just lets it wash all over him. No hype, just relief and happiness. There is a song by Polyphonic Spree called “Acceptance”. It is a 30-minute song. Rogers batted out every minute of it for his acceptance.

Rogers does not have to wait anymore. He is, and forever will be, a Test centurion.

Dear Shane Watson

Dear Nathan Lyon

Australia’s constant search for the one

It was not a contest between a mega shark and a giant octopus. It was more a contest between a mega sharktopus and an offspinner. Kevin Pietersen clearly wanted to dismember Nathan Lyon and end his gene pool.

After only seven balls at Pietersen, Lyon was taken out of the attack. At Old Trafford that meant he was barely seen again until Pietersen was finished. At Durham, Clarke brought him back and it took five balls on a pitch with no spin to deceive Pietersen into nicking behind. Sky’s revometer barely moved. Lyon celebrated. Pietersen walked. Lyon was a hero. Perhaps not the one Australia was used too.

Had Lyon played at Trent Bridge, he would have provided at least 80 fewer runs than Ashton Agar. He also wouldn’t have moved around the field as well. He would have done far less press. His face would not have graced the front page of the Times.

Nathan Lyon was never going to be a once-in-a-generation player. He is not a saviour. His story was more of the guy who happened to be standing in the right place at the right time. There is a romantic notion that Darren Berry saw Lyon roll his arm over in the nets while on a lunch break from his day job as assistant groundsman at Adelaide Oval. The truth is Lyon played 2nd XI cricket and in the baby bash, the 2nd XI Twenty20 tournament, and was doing well so he was quickly promoted due to a severe lack of spinning talent.

Lyon’s bowling will never make you cry. He is not the next Murali. There is no mystery to it. He’s not changing the face of cricket. He’s just a dependable offspin bowler. A very dependable offspin bowler. One who can lock up an end, exert pressure, drop the ball nicely, get decent spin, can move the revometer into the red and take his wickets at fairly regular intervals.

Agar was a bunny rabbit Darren Lehmann pulled out of a hat. It was neat, and it almost worked, largely by accident, but it showed something deeper. A desire that never goes away in Australian cricket. That thought there can be someone better, young, more impressive just around the corner. Not just a player, but a legend, a saviour.

“They say the darkest hour is right before the dawn, And in the hour of greatest slaughter, the great avenger is being born” said Paul Kelly in his song Bradman.

It might have started before Don Bradman. Maybe it was Clem Hill who Australians have been longing for all these years. For a secular country, Australians do want to be saved a lot. That one ethereal warrior who can lift them from their doldrums and launch them to where they belong. Up atop the world of cricket.

It’s part of Australia’s folklore. They don’t make their best players wait, they throw them in there. If they’re good enough, they’re old enough. Get a kid in there. If an old guy and a young guy are up for the same spot, the young guy should always get it. Think of the future. Think of the legacy.

Neil Harvey played at 19, so did Hill and Stan McCabe. Ricky Ponting, Steve Waugh and Bradman played at 20. All champions.

It was hard not to buy into this theory. Who cares about a journeyman? Why would you care about some guy who has been playing shield cricket unsuccessfully for ten years and just gets lucky. Sobers and Sachin weren’t 30 year olds who got a chance late, they were young boys playing against men, beating them, and then spent an entire generation doing the same. A 32-year-old finger spinner is a distraction, not the answer. Legends aren’t a fad, they’re a cricketer you grow up with, grow old with, that is always there, your rock, your banker, your hero.

The start of Ponting’s career is barely ever mentioned. People will talk about the dodgy lbw of the 96 on debut, and might even reminisce about the fighting 88 against West Indies. But in some ways Ponting was already a legend. The oracles Marsh, Chappell and Lillee told us he was special, different and once in a generation. So that is what he was.

For 30 Tests Ponting struggled. His average of 38 was not that of a champion, but an also-ran. Some believed, some didn’t. The non believers said it wasn’t his time. He needed to be less aggressive. He would prop on the front foot often. He could nick off too easily.

Then the Ricky Ponting we all remembered arrived. That was the story we all went with. The first 30 Tests didn’t fit the narrative. The next 138 did.

But what if Ponting came in now? Could Australia afford to give him 30 Tests to prove himself? Without Warne, McGrath, Waugh, Waugh, Fleming, Gillespie, and Gilchrist, would Ponting be allowed to sit in the middle order and refine his game. Or would he be cast aside and brought back at random times.

Would he be sent in at No. 3, and discarded only after a few Tests because he hadn’t made a hundred (Khawaja)? Would he have opened, scored two great hundreds, shown some technical flaws and be sent away after only five Tests (Hughes)? Would he have been picked as a bowler, top score, and be told by his captain that he couldn’t see him as a top order player (Smith)?

Harvey started in the Invincibles. Hill’s eighth, ninth, 10th and 11th innings were 96, 58, 81, and 188. The first 15 Tests McCabe played in had him losing only two. In his first seven Tests, Bradman made two fifties, three hundreds, a double and a triple.

It was only Steve Waugh who bucks the trend of instant success with the bat, or with the team. But he took wickets. Waugh was also in the day of a handful of TV channels, no 24-hour sports radio, and the internet didn’t exist in Australia.

If the media were willing to hound Ponting who was averaging over 50 with 160 Tests to his name, how would a young guy survive that scrutiny for 30 Tests as Australia bumbled their way through international cricket?

And that is for a young player. An old player will get far fewer Tests. Rumblings in the Old Trafford press box were suggesting that Chris Rogers had been worked out, that he couldn’t play Graeme Swann. That was after four innings of his comeback, one of which was a classy half-century in a very big chase.

If it’s hard to be the next big thing, to be the older player who doesn’t succeed straight away in Australian cricket is to cover yourself in bullseyes. Rogers was too old, too slow and too ugly right up until he drove England everywhere. At his next failure, you will hear the same comments. With another late picked Western Australian, you could hear something as well.

You can still hear it now. Can’t you? That knocking. Listen carefully. It is still there, even all these years later. It is the sound of Michael Hussey knocking on the door of the Australia batting line-up of the 90s and 2000s. It’s because of all this knocking that Hussey isn’t seen as a late bloomer, but a player who should have been picked years earlier. He should have been a once in a generation player, instead of a statistical anomaly.

It’s not really based on any facts, but it’s a common zombie myth.

Hussey was picked a year or two late, at most. He wasn’t banging down any doors in Shield cricket. He was polite. He was eager. He was almost always (accept for a short time when he was dropped by Western Australia in 2002-2003) available. Between 1994 and 2005, Hussey averaged over 50 in the Australian first-class cricket in two seasons. He never scored 1000 runs in a season. Knocking on the door? No, more standing on your front lawn and hoping you’d see him there.

Compared to Damien Martyn, who made his debut for Western Australia four seasons earlier, Hussey was hardly making a sound. Martyn was picked for Australia in his third first-class season at the age of 21. He averaged over 50 in his first full season and made hundreds for fun in the next. In December 1992, he made an unbeaten 67 out of 196 against Ambrose, Walsh and Bishop. There was talk of him being the next Australia captain. He was stylish, fearless and very confident. We were told he would be a legend.

Then he made a mistake against South Africa. Chasing 117, Australia completely and utterly forgot how to deal with any pressure and turned Fanie de Villiers into a horrific giver of death. Martyn was in some form in the first innings, he’d made 59.

In the second innings he watched Slater, Boon, Taylor, May, Mark Waugh, Healy and Warne be dismissed. He sat there frozen in fear as Craig McDermott slogged a few around and they crept up to the total. Then, with six runs on the board, and having faced 58 balls, he tried to hit a boundary, and found Andrew Hudson in the ring. Glenn McGrath added one run in seven balls, and Australia ended up six runs short. As Paul Kelly might put it, “they dropped him like a gun”.

2256 days later, Martyn played his next Test match.

Once Martyn showed any weakness at all, he was discarded. It will always remain one of the worst and most harmful selecting decisions in Australian cricket. In a low scoring match, he made one of Australia’s two fifties, he was 22 and he played a bad shot. He was the escapegoat of that team. But it was deeper than that, it was like he had a loser virus and no one wanted to catch it off him.

Martyn was damaged goods. He was not the saviour anymore. He was not an Australia player anymore. Any hopes of him becoming a captain, a legend or even a ten-year player left once he showed in one innings that he was not the one. His papers were stamped ‘non legendary’.

At the end of their careers, Martyn would average 46 with 13 Test hundreds, Hussey 51 with 19. As older men, who had travelled very different paths, they were outstanding for Australia when they were picked at the right times.

If Neil Harvey ran Australian cricket, it would be much like the film Logan’s Run; at a certain age you would turn “black” and would have to turn in for a “deep sleep”. There are certainly more people than Harvey who believe this myth. Any problem in an Australian side can be fixed by throwing in some kid who will save the day. Those people who believe this saviour myth would never have allowed Australian cricket to choose the likes of Adam Gilchrist (age on debut 27, average 47), Stuart Clark (Age 30, average 23), Colin Miller (Age 34, average 26) and even Darren Lehmann (Age 28, average 44).

Had Lehmann not been picked at 28 because he was too old, he would not be coach and would never have been able to pick Agar.

The list of old players is about the age on debut and doesn’t even include the damaged goods like Martyn. Justin Langer got beaten up by West Indies in his first Test, and played eight Tests in his first five years. Matthew Hayden played a Test against a scary South Africa team, then had two years off, then played some more, and had another few years off.

Like Hayden and Langer, Phillip Hughes was thrown in deep. Ponting started at No. 5 at the WACA against a poor Sri Lanka bowling attack. Hughes opened in his first Test against Steyn, Ntini, Kallis and Morkel.

Hughes was compared to Bradman. Was picked ahead of Rogers. Was the bush kid with nervous energy and a technique that was forged together of various scraps. He could keep balls out of his stumps however he had too, and anything wide of off stump would have his name carved into it. He tore Shield attacks apart. Oh, yes, he was another ‘the one’.

Hughes was dropped three Tests after making a hundred in each innings against South Africa. Despite being dropped because he struggled with the short ball, he was brought back at Perth in the next Ashes. In this series he was dropped after two Tests despite his quality innings at Trent Bridge.

Hughes couldn’t play the full straight ball. Then he couldn’t play the short ball. Then he couldn’t play the ball outside off. Hughes has no idea what his own technique is. Pick whichever one you agree with. Hughes is the savior. Hughes should be dropped. Repeat.

Can you imagine what was going through Hughes’ mind back then? He had defeated the best attack on the planet. He had been ordained. He was the real deal. The next boy wonder. A once in a generation talent. The homemade Bradman. It took two Tests for all that to mean nothing at all.

No matter what he has done since then, he is not the Phillip Hughes we first saw. He is technically and mentally flawed. Andrew Flintoff and Steve Harmison started the doubts, but it was the Australia selectors who lopped off his self-confidence. It is a whole new set of selectors who have now dropped him for the third time, three innings after he saved Australia’s pride at Trent Bridge. At 24, the gloss is well and truly off, and it doesn’t matter who he used to be, he is an easily droppable damaged player right now.

Before Agar’s debut, Langer described him as the best young talent since Hughes. Despite their stand at Trent Bridge, neither are in the team for the fourth Test.

Nathan Lyon is. Other than Peter Siddle he has been Australia’s most trustworthy bowler of the last couple of years. And yet it was Siddle who was almost dropped at Trent Bridge, and Lyon who was. Dependable and sturdy is not what Australia wants. They want X-factor, dynamism and water into wine.

Mitchell Starc was picked over Jackson Bird twice before this Test. Agar and Glenn Maxwell were picked over Lyon. Australia are telling us what their new plan is repeatedly.

There will be people, some who are reading this right now, who won’t be convinced. They lived through Border, Harvey, Chappelli, Waugh, Benaud and McGrath. They know somewhere the great avenger is out there. That Australia will find him, and that all this insanity will be over. And they know that he is probably not bowling decent economical offspin.

In the entire history of English cricket, they have picked five teenagers. Australia has picked two in the last three years. How many Lyons, Siddles and Hughes will Australia misuse in search of something that may never exist.

Paul Kelly said of Bradman “Even his friends say he isn’t human”. This Australia team is human. And humans have bowling averages of 33, good days and bad days, and need better treatment than immortals.

Dear Ryan Harris

Australia are not horrible

Michael Clarke is a man with a smile. Whether it’s standing beside his wife on her wedding horse, in his tight underwear on a billboard or as he makes an iconic innings at his home ground, he lights up a picture. In real life, he seems to smile even more. He very rarely looks angry, or upset. He’s composed, calm and happy.

None of those descriptions could be used as he barked and pleaded with Marais Erasmus to stay on the ground at the end of the fourth day at Old Trafford. Clarke had carried his team on day one and two. His bowlers had backed him up on day three. On day four they had put themselves in a position to win the Test. Clarke knew it as much as England did. All they needed was time. But when time was taken from Clarke, he exploded.

Clarke knew coming off the field that he couldn’t regain the Ashes, and that Cricket Australia’s #returntheurn hashtag would have discarded. It was a culmination of poor preparation, random cricket logic and a team that wasn’t as good as the opposition. Australia were always going to lose this Ashes. A victory in this Test wouldn’t change that. It would have prolonged it.

But just by winning this Test they could have proved something to themselves. That they could win a Test against England. That the incompetence of Lord’s and the streakiness of Trent Bridge were only part of their story. That they could compete and beat England when it mattered. And they did everything they could to do it.

Chris Rogers’ first innings was the sort of knock that not even Rogers would have expected to play at Test level. It surprised England as well, while setting the scene for Australia. He drove the ball like an eager teenager, not a crusty old opener. He scored freely against a quality attack. He handled Graeme Swann well. As a 34-year-old you only get so many chances, and he may not have cemented his spot, but he will get at least all five of this Ashes based on an innings of that quality.

The second innings situation was perfect for David Warner. No matter where he batted in the order, the need to score quickly and not have all the fielders up couldn’t have been more perfect for him. His 41 was not a massive total, or one that will rock your world, but he did his job, looked comfortable doing so and looked like the David Warner Australia want him to be. With the press, Barmy Army and Aussie Fanatics he played with his new pantomime villain status. To use the lexicon, he is definitely a positive to be taken.

Steven Smith is a rough batsman. On skill and technique he is not in Australia’s best six. On fight and confidence, he might be. He is a perfect flawed batsman for a flawed team. He scores quickly, believes in himself, and when he plays spin it’s hard to believe he is really Australian. His wickets at Lord’s were handy and his fielding is going to live with us forever on Youtube highlight reels. If this team was better, they wouldn’t need him. He should have got a hundred in the first innings at Old Trafford. And a proper Test batsman would have converted it. Or at least got out in a nicer way. But as a No. 6, or even a seven, he is the sort of junkyard dog cricketer a team like the current Australia can really use.

It some ways, Brad Haddin is not needed by Australia. His selection in this team was more about team bonding and attitude. Something that Warner’s punch and Arthur’s sacking fixed much quicker. His first innings hitting was exactly what Australia needed. Haddin saves his best cricket for the Ashes, and in two innings he has shown good form and timely runs. His wicketkeeping is not going to get any better – keepers’ hands and knees don’t get better – and Mitchell Starc is not an easy man to keep too. Or on some occasions, even reach. But he’s in form, and clearly is desperate to stay in this team. If nothing else, he’ll force Matthew Wade to improve.

Ryan Harris’ spell this morning proved yet again that he is one of the best Test bowlers on the planet. He’s quick enough to hurry anyone. He’s smart enough to out-think quality players. And he does enough with the ball beat anyone. At his best he’s a carnivorous force that will stalk you until you are head. At his worst, he is injured. There is little Australia can do about that. When he is fit, he should be given the new ball and the best medical treatment they can afford.

Merv Hughes was a decent Test-quality bowler who helped keep the flame alive between Lillee and McGrath. Hughes’ job was mostly to try hard, bowl the dog spells, bounce out batsmen on flat tracks and use the conditions when they suited him.

Peter Siddle also averages 28 and takes four wickets a match. In almost every Test he is used in a different way. He’s bowled with the new ball, come on third change, and will bowl into the wind or with it. But no matter what you do with Siddle, he tries very hard, hits the pitch very hard and makes you beat him. It’s hard to hate a man who went to Euro Disney between series and gave up bacon and steak to be a better player.

Starc is capable of amazing feats with the ball, and even the bat. Playing him is a chance that Australia sometimes likes to take. Shane Watson’s comeback at the top of the order might already be over. He also only has one wicket. But his bowling has been very handy, and he deserves more. No cricketer in this series has the ability to improve more than Watson. Usman Khawaja doesn’t look a Test No. 3 right now, but it’s hard to believe a man who bats with that much time can’t make runs at this level.

Nathan Lyon is not Graeme Swann. One is a fridge that cools things, and the other an American style fridge freezer that will give you water and ice on demand. Everyone wants the bigger fridge, but life doesn’t work that way. Lyon bowls good dipping offspin outside off stump spun well toward the stumps. But Swann’s straight ball is far more devious. Swann gets more spin. Swann is smarter. Swann is a top fielder and a handy slogger. In some ways, the difference between the two teams is summed up in the spinners. Lyon tries hard; Swann has 19 wickets in this series.

Every player in this team has something holding them back including age, consistency, injury and skill. Clarke is their best cricketer. But his back is a problem. When he fiddles with his back, takes a pain pill, or does a stretch, there is little smiling. And while he might have lost the anger he had when screaming at Erasmus, that won’t be replaced with smiles knowing they have already lost their chance to retain the Ashes.

This team is not perfect, and it’s not going to be for a while. But they came into this Test as gruesome victims on a hotel bathroom floor, and they outplayed a better opposition for the entire Test. It’s not a win, but it is something to smile about.

Australia still random

David Warner replaced Shane Watson at the top of the order. A solid gold pony, a woman wearing a Punisher costume could have just as easily replaced him or Hank Williams singing ‘Your Cheatin’ Heart’. Australia are in deep panic mode this Ashes. They have created a situation where nothing could surprise. They’re gambling with Test wins and players’ careers by keeping their team on random.

There was logic to sending Warner in to open the batting in this situation. Australia needed quick runs. Warner opens the batting in T20 and limited-overs cricket for Australia. But so does Watson.

Chris Rogers doesn’t open for either of those sides. He never will. Rogers doesn’t even play in the Big Bash that often. In the entire history of the Big Bash, he has played eight matches. So why was Rogers still opening and Watson was not? Someone on Twitter suggested it was because Rogers was a better runner between wickets than Watson. It was a ludicrous suggestion, except that, it made as much sense as anything.

You could suggest form. Rogers was stroking the ball around the field with glee and pomp in the first innings. Watson sat on his bat like it was a prop for much of his innings. But Watson is Watson, and an out of form Watson could have sprung to life with a bit of freedom and a chance to dominate. This could have brought him back to form, back to life. His chance to be the Shane Watson he should be. Instead he watched Rogers make 12 off 23 balls, and then Usman Khawaja come out to bat ahead of him. Of the top four, Watson would end with the top strike rate.

Australia are still in a good position to win this Test. They also had plenty of chances to win the first. They are not as bad as Lord’s showed, nor as good as their ninth-wicket partnerships suggested. With a few more flukey runs they win the first Test, and they are one England collapse away from winning this one. This against a team that out does them in almost every single important thing.

They have flaws and weakness in their team. But many teams do. What they have mostly is a completely random and unexplainable way of making decisions. Perhaps some of this isn’t their fault. A coach got dropped on them a few minutes before the first Test. One who had a very different way of looking at cricket from the previous coach, and was a completely different personality. Had Australia decided to allow all coaching decisions to be made via a sponsor’s app (not out of the question), it would have only slightly made things more complicated.

It started with Steven Smith being picked from outside the squad for the first Test. All the selectors saw Smith bat in India; if they had wanted him to play, they would have picked him for the squad. It was the new management that wanted him to play. But once he had batted at Trent Bridge, the thought that he wasn’t even in the squad to begin with was an obvious error.

Ashton Agar was picked out of the squad too, and also out of the ether. There is no doubt that part of the reason that Agar was picked was because of his batting. But he batted at No. 11. It turned out he batted at No. 11 like a magic pixie dream girl. But why bring in someone to solidify your batting, and bat him at 11? And why drop your senior bowler after taking nine wickets. And why pick a 19-year-old over him?

In the second innings, Agar was promoted ahead of Peter Siddle and Mitchell Starc in the batting order. Starc had made 99 a few Test innings before. Siddle had made back-to-back Test fifties and a first-class hundred. It was the sort of move you make as you hum ‘do you believe in magic’ to yourself.

After that Test Australia dropped Ed Cowan, despite it being his first attempt at batting at No. 3, and with full knowledge that he had spent the entire first Test vomiting. His entire bile-inducing Test was enough to show he wasn’t good enough for three. Starc was dropped despite taking five wickets and having the luxury of having a five (or six with Smith) man bowling attack. Starc was seen as a bowler who took the pressure off England and was too random. He is now back, even though he plays the same.

Agar went from the saviour to the discarded in two Tests. His selection may have been odd, his 98 even odder. But to drop him after only one bad Test showed that his original selection was terrible. As talented as he is, he has now done more press opportunities than bowled quality deliveries in Test cricket. Despite mention of a hip injury, and his movement around the field looking more KP and Watson like than the smooth cougar moves of Agar, he bowled in the tour match against Sussex.

Phillip Hughes was dropped for the first third Test of his first Ashes. He was recalled for the third Test of his second Ashes. Now has been dropped for this third Test of his third Ashes. In many ways, this is one of the most consistent things Australian cricket has done in the last four years. In Hughes’ last three Tests he has batted at No. 3, 4 and 5. This from a player who started as an opener. It’s surprising he hasn’t got confused and gone out at the wrong time. Now he has been dropped. Three whole innings after making an unbeaten 81 and very nearly stealing a Test.

Jonny Bairstow has played 10 Tests and he averages 32. He has some technical problems with playing the ball across the line. If Bairstow was Australian he would have batted in many different positions in this series, and then been dropped already. Not just because Australia are losing. They would see his technique as a reason to drop him. A weakness they couldn’t help. And in two Tests they would have seen enough and needed to move on. Even if England lose, and Bairstow fails again, there is a very good chance he won’t be dropped.

England have only dropped one player this series. They thought Steven Finn let the pressure off. And they knew Tim Bresnan would keep it tighter. They were right.

‘They were right’ is not something the Australian management have been hearing much this Ashes. If the rain stays away, and they win this Test, they will have done it on the back of their captain and fast bowlers. It won’t be a random win, and it won’t be because of all these changes.

It will be in spite of them.

Dear Cricket