Ashes

Go on, skip.

~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

Time flies… and goes bit wild. Nat Sciver first played for Ingerland twelve years ago; alongside Charlotte Edwards. Slam-dunk (or reverse-sweep?) into the near-wild present and she’s Nat Sciver-Brunt, the new national captain, coached by her former-but-senior colleague. And that same Edwards has been boss and mentor for the last three mini-seasons… in India… in the New Fangled Women’s Premier League. Or something.

If that sounds in any way disrespectful then apologies. But it’s been a ride, all of it, from the new eras in cricket and sexual politics to the need for care in what’s being said. We’ve both crawled and hurtled into what the people who write mission statements call a ‘new space’. Much of it, improved. Overdue support and investment for the women’s game has materialised – although of course not entirely equitably – and, surprise surprise, levels of play and entertainment have and are ramping-up. With that, though, comes a change in levels of scrutiny and expectation.

Nat Sciver-Brunt returned from the 2025 WPL with her justifiably high reputation yet again reinforced. She nabbed, boomed, swept or pulled more than 500 runs – a record – taking her WPL total past 1,000, making her the sole bearer of that all-new, most-current playing honour. She is at no. 3 in the ICC world batting averages for ODIs and will skipper the England side across all three formats – a significantly big ask. NSB (we do or can call her that, yes?)  averages 46.47 in Tests, 45.91 in ODIs and 28.45 in IT20s, whilst also having 181 international wickets to her name, according to the ECB website. But so much for the factoids.

There are fascinations in play. A recent Ashes mauling, in which NSB contributed but could not resist the gathering dread. An alleged failure, unusually called-out, in a previous stand-in ‘opportunity’. And that whole thing about fresh brooms and Good New Feelings, with Edwards being by a million miles the outstanding candidate for the perch as Head Coach. (Oh – and a woman!)

The Ashes of course (and unfortunately but quite rightly) led to the demise of the previous coach (Lewis) and captain (Knight). Both of those protagonists were manifestly let down by the players but only Knight had any right to consider staying on, largely because few doubt that she was a good captain, strategically. ‘Trevor’ was immensely focused, smart and resilient. She *did actually lead* but was apparently neither inspirational nor frightening enough to the group to carry them through periods of pressure or drive standards of execution – particularly in the field. Ditto Lewis in his own, inevitably more distanced role.

But is it just me that has almost forgotten that Sciver-Brunt has been vice-captain under Knight for three years? That relative disappearance may say something positive about Knight’s leadership (and must surely be a benefit in terms of experience for NSB) but does it also suggest something around either unclear or unconfident relationships that Nat, despite being a genuine worldie astride the game, was not a nailed-on successor, *somehow?*

The fact that this feels at all vague condemns pretty decisively the regime(s) that allowed drift around succession planning. Both in respect of Nat Sciver-Brunt and the almost complete lack of other viable candidates. It’s a joke that at contemporary levels of resource, England did not appear to have anyone other than NSB remotely capable or experienced enough to step into the captaincy. People may have been thinking, but they weren’t doing.

I suppose we have to accept that there is stuff that we can’t know. It’s possible that relationships have been complex since the year dot. Or certainly since Sciver-Brunt was notably and unusually called-out for alleged inadequacies during the Commonwealth Games, in Birmingham, when Knight was absent.

At the time England should have beaten an Indian side with the proverbial ‘something to spare’. They didn’t and NSB’s captaincy and/or lack of leadership was criticised in such a way as to make some of us suspect that she was either disliked(?!?) or being punished for either arrogance or feebleness. It was an odd moment: the kind that makes you speculate – possibly wildly.

Anyway, she’s here now! In what could be a good moment. Outstanding new coach – the obvious candidate. Outstanding player at the helm on the park: the obvious candidate. Between them it feels entirely possible that they can and will help to drive against the key issues, now widely acknowledged to have been holding England back. Namely lack of athleticism and frailties around that fabulous, fraught, dangerous and difficult universe we lump in under ‘mentality’. Too many players have been unable to really sprint/dive/move in the way that is now non-negotiably essential, because they are international athletes. Too many players have failed to execute – have actually seemed weak, if we are to risk sounding cruel – when the Crunch Moments come around.

These things happened over years, not months; perhaps particularly the events or errors relating more to the ‘top three inches’ than physical prowess. The women’s game (is that an acceptable phrase? Seriously?) is improving all the time because of professional strength and conditioning. But the Ashes did unfortunately expose some clear deficiencies in the England camp. This is the price of fame – of ‘being seen’. Inevitably these areas will be addressed as a matter of urgency, but because there is a difference between fitness and top-end fine motor skills this may be a richly interesting challenge for the incoming coach. She must develop better athletes for the longer term but can Edwards rub the players’ backs so supportively that things improve immediately?

Some of The Issues are around selection; the coach reading these contending humans and finding the ones who will repeatedly perform. Some of this is about available talent – having a pool of fine athletes from which you can pick and blend. I am reasonably confident that Charlotte Edwards is going to be good at covering all of this rich and demanding territory; from the technical to the unavoidably psychological. She is authoritative and massively experienced. She knows the game and she seems to know people. Importantly, she has delivered (and therefore?) players seem to respond to her – to have faith. Rather wonderfully, faith is important in sport.

I am less sure that Nat Sciver-Brunt, as Edwards’ captain, is as well-equipped for her own role. But this is a) complex b) guesswork because of her lack of opportunity and c) a reflection on the vacuum of knowledge resulting from my remarkable but ongoing absence from the coaching team.*

Let me firstly describe one possible scenario. It is an absurd likelihood that because of her utter and innate brilliance, NSB has been finding a lot of her cricket too easy. Even if she doesn’t register it in that way. (I’m talking largely about batting, here). Even internationals: even Moments of Import. Often she has simply been able to see ball, hit ball like some carefree seven-year-old. Often she hits where that seven-year-old would, too – clattered through the leg-side. Of course I understand that she practices this endlessly, this ‘scoring in her areas’; this ‘playing without fear’. So she mitigates against risk through practice. Of course. But there are risks, here. NSB simply succeeds so easily and so often because she is good. Because she is too good, for the opposition. Meaning that she is relatively un-tested… or, less absurdly, has more to give.

Now. I am wondering and even hoping that because the captaincy has settled upon her – incidentally, have we considered whether she wanted or not? I’m not at all sure she did – Sciver-Brunt may use it to power up her game. She may pour in all the juice that previously she didn’t need.

Could be another mad argument. But the new energy, the new responsibility, the New Regime may possibly fire her up. Particularly under this new gaffer, whom she knows and may kinda love. She may go Full Nat.

The mutual NSB/Edwards WPL experience could be pivotal, here. Three campaigns; high-intensity and high-profile action. Togetherness. Understanding. Respect. Let’s hope.

The 32-year-old Natalie Sciver-Brunt may possibly be skipper-by-accident more than by design or inclination. (Who knows what might have happened if CE hadn’t walked through the door?) But wow. Look at her cricket. And there must have been learning, for Sciver-Brunt, under Knight and Edwards, in those difference places; through those different voices. Might we now see the full expression of her faith, capacity and confidence? Go on, skip.

*I jest! I JEST!!

Angry fans.

~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

There may be newbies encroaching so p’raps I’ll say a few words about where I’m coming from. I’m coming from England, out of Wales. I’m an England & Wales fan and I have no issue with sounding that way. So you may see me foaming or bawling on the Twitters or elsewhere, in a fashion most unbecoming of a serious writer. (Actually I think I am a serious writer but not a journalist, and not here). I have had accreditation with the ECB, as a freelance bloggist, for several years. I go to watch and support England Women when I can – more than I do the blokes.

So England Aus then. After four defeats it feels erm, significantly deflating. It’s made me angry as well as disappointed. It’s hard not to make it personal – to have outrageous pops at individuals – when you know full well these are people trying their hearts out. But we are I think entitled to be critical when performances are poor, or even unprofessional, or when the case that we have gotten closer to the level of the mighty Australians is proved more palpably to be cobblers than we hoped or imagined. We remain waaay behind.

In today’s game, yup, the fourth defeat of four, with England knowing they really had to turn up, we got more of the same. A kind of contagion of error or failure to execute. No issue with Kemp playing or opening the bowling. But her first ball is a foot down leg. No issue with Bell – who has been probably the closest to a success on this mission – coming in from t’other end. She bowls coupla beauties but two wides again. Then reverts to her Somehow Unconvincing Athlete-type, to crucify a relatively straightforward chance, at fine leg: the ball spirals a bit but hey that’s cricket.

(Rate Bell – ditto Kemp – but these fluffs speak to and weirdly encourage the wider malaise. I repeat: Bell has bowled well and maturely for the most part, on the tour. But there are still too many wides and maybe critically that sense of potential for drift, in terms of control or otherwise, for a top level bowler, wafts in a little too often. And this from our no 1 bowler. Filer of course has almost played her way out the side with her wildness).

I’ve tried (honest) to avoid soundbites on socials but we may need to fall back on the words mentality and execution again here. Aus typically have it and do it – do their jobs; are good athletes and mentally strong – whereas England repeatedly fall short. In a way it’s maybe that simple. The visitors have had competitive bursts then undermined by slackness, error or calamity. One of many frustrations is that this seems fixable, given a squad of good players and yet…

Zoom out and you have to have a strong, deep pyramid, to go hard at selection and change. Zoom back in and it’s up to the coach do identify where players’ heads are and thereby identify players. Whilst developing them.

Where are the players’ heads? There have been, it seems to me, a whole lot of WTF moments over the past month. Hence the building vitriol and disappointment. Even Knight has made questionable decisions (plural) which have cost England their most redoubtable wicket. Reverse sweeping King first ball after drinks in this first it20 may have been an unwise choice. To the counter-argument that we should go fearlessly for our shots I say ‘hang on, now’. You choose your moment and choose the ball and then go for your shot, wholeheartedly. Do most of your pre-meditated shot-making from a position of strength – i.e get to that position first. Being ‘clear’ is important but so is adaptability. Only if you are desperately running out of balls to hit do you need to bite on major risk. Or, if like Dunkley you are absolutely feeling the flow – irresistibly.

England needed to be brilliant earlier and they were closer to lousy, from the start. Deeply mediocre bowling discipline, or players diving over or past or through or under the ball in the outfield. Poor, unconvincing hands. Angry fans (like me, like you) would call it garbage. Some of it was.

Why were England so poor? They probably picked their best team. They knew the import. Almost nobody delivered, with the ball or in the field. Then Bouchier had another *incredible moment* with the bat to laser-in on the fielder in the deep, second ball. Wyatt-Hodge was rooted and prodded. Sciver-Brunt stayed with that thing of swishing hard across: but to Garth, with bugger all on the board and two-down? In your first couple of deliveries? With the ball (you know) arcing away from you? Where are the players’ heads? And what are they hearing? ‘Clear plans’ no doubt.

Nerves were obviously a protagonist yet again. That we can understand but it doesn’t mean we can tolerate it. Over time it’s the job of the coach to fix such a fabulous and welcoming and supportive environment around the group that confidence bubbles up all over. And equally (but at the polar opposite of a vast, multi-faceted job) that same coach probably has to weed out those who lack the required mentality. And I do mean required. This cricket thing is both a wonderful, instinctive business based around flow and a brutal, gladiatorial arena where folks get culled. You want comfort of a sort but also the edge that drives elite performance.

Dunkley is a dynamic outlier in all this. For today at least. (To be honest, remain unconvinced about her as a consistently high-level performer but hope she goes on to prove me wrong).

Her innings today was authentically thrilling and spirited. The cack-handed slammer was one of possibly three England players who may claim to have been undone by balls scooting low. Her approach – full-on blistering intent – both worked and even threatened to turn a non-event into an event. It also raised the rather fascinating psycho-existential question as to whether T20 itself is wonderful or fraudulent sport. England being so bad and so ‘undeserving’ almost found themselves in the contest. Should that even be possible, given their risible effort? Or is that – Dunkley; the possibility for individual, counter-attacking glory – the essence of most of our wonderful-daft games?

England have great resources but maybe not quite the playing resources or depth that they want. Tough. They’re in financial dreamland compared to most. So coaching has to be effective and has to maximise. All coaches have to maximise – that is, improve their players. Look hard and see who has patently improved under Lewis.

The coach will almost certainly go, after this series. He can have no complaints. Heather Knight must also be in the cross-hairs but she is still England’s best captain and remains one of their few genuinely world-level players – just. To find a fresher, zingier, more deeply confident groove England may need to switch both coach and skipper. The next coach – Charlotte Edwards? – must sort out the heads of the players.

pic from The Cricket Paper.

Weaknesses.

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Belief is HUGE, of course, but this isn’t just about belief.

‘Expressing yourself’, of course, is the aspiration but c’mon: saying that with little or no explanation or context is feeble, to the point of being meaningless.

The urge to entertain, is of course worthy, maybe particularly if you *really do believe* (as McCullum and Stokes just might), that it’s more important than winning.

Attacking or ‘being attacking’ is great. We all want to thrill people.

But there are buts. And those buts aren’t necessarily contingent upon the context and tradition of Test cricket, though of course this format *does have* particular, distinctive, possibly even special parameters. There is time; there is that different level of strategy, because of time/weather/the imperative towards resilience (over time) and the testing under pressure with tiredness and exposure. Mentality. Guts. Heart. Etc. Test cricket is kindof awesome…

But a note: few of us who would call out that England first innings as a kind of classic of Bazballtastic feebleness are doing so because of doe-eyed or rose-tinted nostalgia for Things Lost. We’re not delusionally adrift in our own memories. We are doing it because that baseball from Brooks, those errors from Root, Pope (and even Duckett and Stokes?) spoke to live, current falsehoods and weaknesses, not absence of ‘tradition’. We wonder who is taking responsibility?

Brooks got fifty but it at no stage did his approach look like it was working. At. No. Stage. He was exiting stage left in order to club tennis or baseball shots vaguely down the ground. Fine, if that works. It didn’t. He looked ungainly and frustrated as much as he looked ‘carefree’. (Carefree is closer to indulgence at this level, than is healthy. He didn’t look ‘liberated’; he looked like a bloke out of his depth – like a walking wicket). Given that Brooks is a prodigious talent, this felt wild and wasteful: and it plainly encouraged the opposition, particularly their quicks. It was also the opposite of entertaining, for England fans.

Not blaming Brooks. We can only conclude that he was given license, with that specific plan to step away and then clout, thereby disrupting the Aussies and scoring quickly. For most of us, the period had a high cringe factor and it didn’t work – obviously. (It was streaky and demoralising, surely?) The extended plan, to clatter short balls, was exposed to the point of embarrassment – that word again – as English batters went ludicrously and loosely aerial, rushing towards that inevitably dispiriting end-point. Brooks’s own mode of dismissal was every bit as shambolic (and irresponsible, and unwise?) as expected. Caught, slapping woefully.

McCullum and Stokes are better than my anger suggests to me. They are deeply and profoundly Macho Men but they do engage brains, too. I am confident they talk with both strategic brilliance and philosophical heft, to each other and to their players. And they are almost certainly rather wonderfully generous. Love that.

However, in private you do have to wonder if they do crank out the cliches about ‘playing without fear’ glibly and without qualification. How else are these tactical clangers persisting? Can it really be stubborn-ness? Or some sort of perverse siege-mentality? We’ve seen that often, in sporting environments.

Bazball needs qualification. This morning, England were neither ‘entertaining’ nor bright, nor even committed. In the particular, inescapable terms of Test cricket they were WEAK. Weak strategy, weak execution, weak in relation to smarts and resilience and intelligence. This capitulation was not worthier or more entertaining than a slow death.


Pic from The Guardian.

Bairstow.

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Some things, we know, go right past sport. Some of those things are hard to approach – reckless to approach, perhaps? Tough to get in there without offending. Tough and possibly quite wrong to speculate over things that course so deeply. So, no offence but…

Jonny Bairstow. Cricket *and everything* in the blood. Son of an England ‘keeper. Half-brother to Andrew, formerly of Derbyshire. First Winner of the Wisden Schools Young Cricketer of the Year, for walloping 600-plus runs for St Peter’s School, York, back in 2007. So does have Yorkshire Grit but of the relatively polished, or privileged variety. (Not that he can help that. And not that he ever strikes you as any sort of toff. His oeuvre, or let’s call it manner, despite a certain pomp, is closer to working-class hero than flouncy sophisticate ).

2016, scores 1470 Test runs, almost doubling Matt Prior’s existing record: compare with England’s current crop… and with his own tally of 391, for 2021 (if I’m reading cricinfo correctly). So numbers. But numbers don’t account for tragedy, or bloody-mindedness, or value to the team: not really. Bairstow’s value has always been about punchiness and spirit and undeniability. He’s the guy who does the bullocking, the sprinting, the (mostly) undemonstrative aggression. He’s fired-up, Proper Yorkshire, in fact – and Proper Red-head.

His role as a white-ball opener has been spectacularly successful. The Test batting less so – or it’s felt for three or four years like his place is under some threat. Prone to getting bowled, early-doors. Great counter-attacker but sometimes not equipped for a long, slowish knock. Is there also a sense that, being drawn to drama, Bairstow’s juices simply don’t always flow? That he responds to situations which demand heroics? Despite being plainly a mentally and physically tough guy, his contributions seem fickle – less reliable than his personality and grit and gifts would suggest. Plus that whole other thing about taking the gloves or not.

But hey. Before the furore-in-a-beer-glass over comments about his weight, I did tweet to query JB’s body-shape. Impolite and unnecessary, possibly, but all I meant was a) he looks like he’s put on a few pounds and b) therefore looked less like a battle-ready international sportsman. I think we’re entitled to ask that of our elite athletes but Jonny answered me in the way he and Stokesy answered the mouthy Australian fans – by scoring big runs and racing between the sticks faster than almost anybody on the planet; as per. So maybe my dumb observations were dumb observations. The thing is Bairstow defied: again.

This feels like the crux. Bairstow may be carrying impossible hurt – why wouldn’t he be? As well as the family catastrophe, or possibly entwined amongst unfathomable grief and anger and trauma, Bairstow somehow feels like the bloke who wants to wade in there carrying some flag. He’s proud, strong, hearty and the hurt flows near to the surface.

I reckon this might possibly make him hard to manage – but again, I may be speculating wrongly and quite inappropriately. How could he not be occasionally dour and moody, as well as inspiring and true, as a mate, colleague, comrade? How does the coach or selector appreciate or quantify that? When his often god-like or warrior-like brassiness and boldness is surely tailor-made for those moments when ‘the tough get going?’ Meaning you absolutely need some Bairstow in your squad.

Conversely, I get that judgements must be made about technical skills and the relative qualities of team members: the mix. But Jonny’s gift to the mix is emphatic in terms of energy and emotion.

Jonny Bairstow knows he is entitled to bugger all but he will still feel that he’s earned stuff. He has that fire and that Yorkie stubbornness. He is likely plenty perverse enough to be driven on by resentment, against slights from media, coaches, fans, fellow players. Because he’s a broad, bellowing, beautiful battler.

Ashes Churn.

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So we’re all exasperated and hurt, then. And that hurt may be good. We may yet bawl or bundle People towards Progress. Maybe. In a tidal wave of New Year Resolutions, Harrison will confess whilst weeping pitifully, Private Schools will be abolished, the MCC Members will swap the daft yellow and red stuff for hair shirts and the Tory Party will disintegrate in shame. Because Things Can Only (and Must Only) Get Better, right? And This Means Everything.

The Brit Universe is g-nashing over the Ashes. We’re all Experts and we’re All Legitimate Fans and we All Attend County Champs Games, Regularly, Jeff. We all have The Right To The Loudest Opinion, Ever. (Me included). Our exclusive claim on Knowing is being Twittered and Vodcasted to the heavens. Our brilliance and their dumbness is Completely Obvious, Maureen, in a brutally sweeping, sexually-charged and capitalised kindofaway. Because this is righteously simple.

Except it’s not.

Coaching and Coaching Philosophy is/are not simple. Strategic planning and respectful scheduling are not simple. Mental Health is not simple. Daft, daft games are not simple.

Let’s start with coaching – coaching and captaincy and the art of deciding.

Interesting that the likes of Rob Key – medium-intelligent voice, close to the action – has been so-o clear that Silverwood is utterly ‘out of his depth’. Others make the argument that Giles, in gathering power in to the former England paceman/enforcer, has put his Head Coach in a suffocating head-lock: just too much to do, think about, organise, decide upon. Certainly most of us outsiders can find a favourite clanger for this series, whether it be that first Test selection or the return of Crawley, or the dropping of Burns. There is plenty scope for gleeful dismemberment of Silverwood’s more contentious calls.

Now I’m not a prevaricator by nature but I’m less sure than some of you that Silverwood has to go. And I’m less sure again that despite Root being an average captain rather than a brilliant one, he should join his gaffer on the Discarded on Merit pile.

Firstly, not been close to Silverwood, so not seen how his interactions with players are. Secondly, have disagreed with several of the decisions around selection/toss/strategy but that can happen with good coaches, too, right? (‘Game of opinions, Dave’). Forty-ninethly, although it plainly might be that he’s not up to it – and of course the woeful capitulation is traditionally laid essentially at the gaffer’s door, in elite sport – only Farbrace springs immediately to mind as a preferred candidate… and he… yaknow… was there before, pretty much. So in short I guess I’m thinking the summary execution of Silverwood and Root might feel righteous but achieve not so much.

(Sixty-twothly – and the absence of similar views make me fear that I may be missing something here – what about Thorpe? Has G Thorpe Esq not been batting coach for like, years? Why no grief in his direction? Even if he’s the Greatest Bloke Ever, or whatever, does he not hold a hoooge chunk of responsibility? Is he not the ultimate in You Had One Jobbery? Don’t geddit: how he seems to escape scrutiny. Good luck to him… but seems extraordinary).

But breeeeeeathe. Zooming out, there are cultural issues, from shamefully-distracted money-driven policy to exclusion by malice, stealth and/or by toff-dom. Privilege still waiving its todger at us, like some Eton-educated clown. In *that matrix*, bonuses get paid to *this ECB*: the universe really is that warped. But let’s get back to coaching – to batting – because despite what the needier, more distracted corners of Twitter are saying, it was England’s batting that decided the Ashes.

Understandably, there have been some pointed and intelligent reflections on both the technical specifics and wider framing of batting skills and/or the coaching thereof. It’s not just embittered former internationals who are saying the modern player lacks discipline and the modern coach is typically twiddling his/her way through a kind of woke manual. But even this preciously guarded, pleasingly heartfelt ‘debate’ needs to take care around over-simplification.

Yes, it is true that the ECB Coaching Pathway shifted away from instructive, demonstrative coaching towards ‘Core Principles’ and ‘player ownership’. The coach has been invited to be less of an auteur/maestro and more of a skilled inquisitor: the argument being that the traditional format of oldish blokes barking instructions at more or less intimidated ‘pupils’ was a crass way and an ineffective way for players to *actually learn*. (I have some sympathy with this view). But could be that this Generous Modern Way works great for Dynamos but less well for Dom Sibley. (In other words, maybe this is complex and maybe entitlements and protocols and levels of both enquiry and expectation are so bloo-dee different that it’s a nonsense to only approach from the one, holistically-nourishing angle, or imagine that things don’t change as you clamber up the performance ladder?)

It seems absolutely right for a cheery old sod like me to be inspiringly lovely and friendly and encouraging, as I trip out my rhetorical questions to Llanrhian Juniors. But it may be okay – not ideal, but okaaay – for an England coach to shout, swear and tear strips off players who don’t effing get it. Elite sport is, perhaps regrettably, tough. You are gonna have to be a robust individual: tough enough to bear the #bantz and the barrage of bouncers. Tough enough to ‘wear a few’, on and off the pitch. It is not unreasonable, therefore, to expect that amongst the essential support, camaraderie and joy, there will be challenge, discomfort even, on the road to (their) learning.

Top end cricket – especially Test Cricket, especially batting? – is surely about the ability to resist, to offer sustained and disciplined excellence. You hope, (I imagine) that you can break through into the peace of playing your game. But there may be a period – a cruel period – of mindful doggedness on the way there.

This tour – again – the England batters got nowhere near. Except Root. And sometimes Malan. The rest looked generally shot, or technically ill-equipped to compete. Rightly then, we are asking about what Test Batting needs to look like. Deliciously, once the rage subsides, we may need to consider whether levering-back towards particular ways is wise or possible – or what, precisely, we proscribe against. Just how orthodox is the fella Smith, for Aus, for example?

Against a good Aussie team, not a great one, neither England’s will nor skill seemed up to it. So we’re all angry, we’re all piling in on Silverwood, Harrison, Giles. Fair enough. But as we tear through issues around bat pathway and summer schedules and the dispiriting mean-ness of everything, let’s get our brainy heads on; before the Ashes Churn gets going again.

Love. Fear. Grief. And another incredi-chapter.

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It’s hard to be strategic when there’s so-o much love about. And fear. And grief. How, exactly, do we manage a way through an Away Series, in Oz? With all that inconvenient turning of the earth stuff? And the disorientating, electrifying, fecund stillness – the night, outside? Loveliness, but then with the bastards down there bouncing down the corridors of our Proper Sleep-time, squeezing off fire-extinguishers like drunken bladdy students. And winning – always winning. How do we manage against that?

Can only be instinct – unless you’re one of the comparatively few who really can watch through the night and either sleep or work through the day. I can’t; can only do some. So like most of the Pom Universe I swerved Day 3 entirely and gathered to watch Day 4. That made sense.

England had a sniff. After Root and Malan had restored some pride, and Hameed had offered some hope, it made sense to invest in Day 4. Let’s do this.

Minor tactical kip during the late afternoon: fitful but hopefully restorative, or enabling of a long overnight haul. ‘Social’ quietly fizzing with suitably modest hypotheses, around ‘building’, or ‘extending’ and just maybe ‘constructing a total’. Then pundits on the telly-box being bundled into That Conversation: the one where it’s considered that England might yet steal a bladdy win.

They’d have to ‘start again’; then ‘see off the new ball’; then ‘build’. ‘Obviously Root and Malan can play… can take this on… but don’t forget how Stokes and Buttler in particular can push on – can take a game away from you’.

Have no idea if these conversations *actually happened*. Or if I was already dreaming. Pretty sure I watched as Malan got tangled-up, to the often innocuous-looking but persistently troubling Lyon. Certain I saw an absolute peach, from the miraculously recovered Hazlewood – who may have never been injured, despite the twelve hours of relentless and generally circular ‘discussion’ from our frankly embarrassingly wearisome local hosts. (Less is more, gentlemen). That peach deserved to register and it did – accounting for the England captain

The Root dismissal has come to feel central to everything: if our friends at Wisden are to believed he has scored 1100 more runs than the next England bat in this calendar year. ELEVEN FUCKING HUNDRED: he has 1,544. Burns, remarkably, is next, on 492. Plainly, on this occasion, the skipper erred again, fishing gently but fatally for one that simply shouldn’t have tempted him: certainly not at that stage.

The dismissal of Pope, soon after, for 4, trying to cut a ball that bounced a little, from Lyon, who has made a career out of top-spin/over-spin, meant not just that the game was almost done but barely credibly, it was almost done before the new ball had been taken. Understandably, even the pundits before us with worthwhile collections of brain-cells had been singling out that period (after ten overs or so of old-ball phoney-war) as critical. But no. Even they (even I) had underestimated England’s capacity to be England.

Extraordinarily, my Original Plan to hit the hay, come what may, after the morning’s session in Brisbane, worked out supremely: just not in the way any of us had foreseen. We foresaw a slaughter (probably), once Hazlewood and Cummins and Starc had the new cherry. Nope. Not to be. Those seamers had some joy, inevitably but it was the old pill – and the old-school non-spinning spinner – what done it, essentially. Four-fer, for Nathan Lyon, ultimately, taking him beyond 400 Test wickets. And another incredi-chapter in the book of England Ashes traumas.

Highlights Reel, as does the memory. Universe Podcast looks back on a year of cricket – mine, 2019.

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A meander through my personal highlights, with particular attention on the games I actually attended. Vaguely chronological but with the inevitable @cricketmanwales-stylee diversions.

So, unreliable memories around both England men and women’s international fixtures, plus KSL and Blast19 stuff. Some thoughts on coaching – on the England men’s batting – and ‘philosophical’ notions around approach and responsibility. Finally, I fall into a realisation that my ‘Day of the Year’ may have been…

well go listen and find out. And please do RT if you find it at all listenable.

 

*Note: plank that I am I started to say something about Sophie Ecclestone but then drifted. What I was going to add was that she is clearly a talent – already our (England’s) go to bowler when Knight needs to make something happen. (Not bad for a 19/20 yr-old). She isn’t a great fielder but one of my abiding memories of a difficult Women’s Ashes for England was that Ecclestone offers something.

In answer to the question “Where were you?”

~ bowlingatvincent ~ Leave a comment

Ok so things can be too much. Sun. Alcohol. Events.

And then maybe you can get mixed up.

Who knows, really?

I can already feel the creep of history, or at least that slightly creepy feeling – “where were you?” And I know somewhere down the line I’ll just forget. So maybe this is my document, this is where I mark something.

Ben Stokes. Crazy, wonderful, tattooed euphoria and a free glass of chilled white from young Tom, behind the bar, at KandaBongoMan. In the batty, dusky dark, by the batty oaks and the solemn stones and the cows, actually, and the stage.

Stage? Yes. Empty but still ‘Once in a LIFE-timing’ at us before the band appear.

Band? Yes. Because from Ben Stokes we go here, blasting through the silent uplands (no cars, even though Bank Holiday) to the ridicuvenue, in the ancient valley under Carn Ingli. Then, over a glass, we catch our breath whilst contemplating said cows, said stones.

We can’t believe we’ve seen that. Tom the barman, recognising the All Stars hoodie, asks me did I see it. (I’m guessing he’s mid-twenties: I’m not. He’s saying he may never have seen a better day’s sport in his life, I’m putting it instinctively top three. Then we talk about coaching – he’s played for Llanrhian CC so we’re into family business. I strongly recommend the ECB Coaching Pathway, (honest), tell him to get on it, rapidly and then I confess I did neck the wine, pretty much).

Top three in my lifetime, off the the top of my head. But any need to delve too deep or go through some anal countback-thing? (And erm, can I say that?) What’s to be gained by unpicking the blurry wonder of it?

Bugger I’m torn on this. Do have that deliciously satiated feeling – Stokes is already forever and the minutiae will come back unbidden in joyful time. Sometimes we force when we reflect, yes? Plus the band are on.

So on the one hand I plain refuse to prepare the ground for those “it was right up there with blah di blah” conversations: I forget, anyway! The drama around Stokes – the non-catches, the Lyon’s Fumble, the bent or malfunctioning umpire – stands gloriously, kaleidoscopically alone and in the huddle with the greats, already. It’s seeping in (but) we will remember, individually.

Conversely, I need to see some of this again. How in god’s name did it actually happen? From Buttler/Woakes, how the hell did that happen?

I am dancing with my wife. I am thinking, I am wondering  how it is that spangly guitar and mysteriously ungraspable vocals can sustain such insuperable upfulness. When KandaBongoMan may, for all I know, be singing about vice and trauma.

How can things get so deliciously, defiantly, wonderfully twisted? Could it be, could it actually be that there is something invincible about (yaknow) the human spirit?

Phew. I know nothing and it’s great.

Back to bed, then. For a month, maybe?

~ bowlingatvincent ~ 1 Comment

Oof. Up before the 3.20 alarm – just. Quick hot lemon and honey then just as you’re settling, Aleem interveneth.

Cruelly late – and surely influenced by an enormous appeal from Australia (the whole continent) – Dar raises that cruel finger on Woakes.

On review there is clearly no white spot… but snicko suggests a tiny feather: Woakes is gone.

It feels tough and possibly terminal; second ball – SECOND BALL! The locals are horribly rampant. When Root also edges Hazlewood behind, in his very next over, the thing feels over. Despite Moeen’s craft and Bairstow’s quality, the hope not so much gone as annihilated. At 3.38 you do, you confess, think of bed.

Both were straight balls. Woakes then Root beaten by that extra four miles an hour, only – or that and their nerves. The key to the series, right there.

Us cra-zee England fans (contemplating bed) are also thinking maybe Bairstow and Moeen could yet find their flow; battle quietly for half an hour then begin to erode that 170 lead. We know they’re both fabulous players when the juices are flowing and we like to think Smith and co may not deal all that well with purposeful counter-attack. Then Cummins comes on and beats Bairstow all ends up with an 86 mph leg-cutter.

Moeen becomes becalmed. Bairstow looks under pressure – which of course he is. Credit Australia. Cummins and Lyon come in early after Hazlewood and Starc and absolutely maintain the squeeze. Moeen’s response against the latter is to try and break out with a sweep. Clunk. He’s leg before.

So thirty-something minutes in and the match seems done. Likewise the series. Likewise the whole purpose of life.

Given the spike in enmities between the sides, this is a catastrophe unleashed for England. Another humiliation at the hands of some jeering, sneering Aussies. Bottom line is these barsteds are better; or three or four of them are.

Cummins has looked class: quick, skilled, disciplined. Starc has actually been less good than he might have been thus far – which is clearly rather concerning – but he’s winkled people out, nevertheless. Lyon has been all over us. Hazlewood bowled beautifully for that critical first period today. The upshot of the barely credible hoopla and drama of this test has been that their bowlers have smashed us more decisively and predictably than we’ve smashed them.

We’ve barely started but Overton is in; ridiculously. Cummins torments him and then hits him, hard, in the chest. Then Bancroft weakly drops one. There’s a lull but not anything to *actually encourage* the tourists. Wickets simply feel medium-likely instead of immediately inevitable, for about three overs. My god Overton and Bairstow are clearly trying but they’ve not settled; merely survived, to the 200 mark. 200 for 7.

4.52 a.m. Enter the new ball. Starc bowls full at Overton. It shapes in late, in the air – it’s too good. Full enough to be hitting… and the finger goes up. Overton has again earned some respect, for his guts and his stickability but this was a peach. 207 for 8.

Bairstow strikes one of very few confident drives down the ground: four, off Starc. The sun is shining but is it me, or does this seem principally to exaggerate the alarming lustre of that new, pink cherry? The cherry that’s suddenly hooping – comically down leg, for four byes, in the case of a rare loose one from the returning Hazlewood. People, this ball looks unplayable, immediately.

Bairstow has 27. There are 134 runs required to win. Broad faces Starc, who again goes fabulously full. Broad escapes, off the toe-end – twice! This can’t last.

Australia have been excellent, goddammit. Interestingly, too, they’ve chosen to stow away the bouncer almost completely. When Starc has Broad caught behind off a tremendously full delivery, that policy seems entirely wise, as well as creditable. Again there was a touch of swing, again it was too quick for the batsman – so why wouldn’t you bowl that way? Anderson is in for the last rites.

Starc offers Bairstow drives and briefly, he partakes. But then he plays on. England are all out for 233, meaning Australia win by 120 runs. The handshakes seem pretty good-natured.

The inquest, for England will focus on the batting, whilst acknowledging the bowling was poor in that critical first session. Anderson, so often and so rightly lauded for his prodigious, refined skills, bowled distressingly short – embarrassingly short, given his knowledge and experience – and set the tone for chronic underachievement. (Later, he did the opposite and took a deserved 5-fer but that later was what it said on the tin).

One view might be that we gifted an ordinary Australian batting line-up some respite: they gathered and Marsh was able to cash in. A sensational turnabout for the second Aus innings was always going to be against that context and those numbers… and would mean nothing should our batters fail again second time round.

The batsmen did fail. When the big moments came, Australia powered through. Hazlewood found length and bounce. Starc – I maintain, without bowling remotely to his full, frightening capacity – blew people away. Cummins was magnificent and Lyons supremely consistent. On the final day, again, Australia rose to it and England did not.

So what’s to be done? Only if Mark Wood is electrifying in the next ten days or if Stokes becomes available will there be a change amongst the bowlers. (Moeen will not be dropped, I suspect, despite his lack of a contribution so far). They have been fallible but also effective and we probably have none better.

Batting-wise I wondered aloud a fortnight or so ago about Bairstow being hoisted up to three and though that’s a big ask for the lad I return to the thought. Vince has probably carved his way out so there’s juggling to be done. Ballance may add some doughty resistance but my hunch is he’s more likely to do that at five than three. Plus he’s essentially defensive and we’re two down. Hales is a huge talent but you’d probably play him five, not three, if at all. Cook stays, obviously but gets the general bollocking about playing nothing you don’t need to play. The coach has work to do.

If Bairstow does go up the order, does Foakes play? Not necessarily, in my view. Bairstow is so bloody fit and temperamentally such a gem that I don’t think there’s a concern around his extra workload. But only the coach, seeing Foakes in the environment, seeing Bairstow’s energy (or otherwise) can judge that. (Incidentally, only the coach can bully the other possible, significant change – stick Root in at three).

If I’m calling it I put Bairstow to three and bring in Hales  – we’re going to have to attack to win matches, right? Hales can do that blazing away thing – if he can ever get in.

I don’t personally foresee a whitewash here, despite the consistent failure (do we call it capitulation?) during those key moments. The thing that might change that is if Starc gets to his absolute peak. So far Australia have been too good without Starc finding his scariest, most unplayable best. God help us if he does.