Have England Spent The Last Four Years Practising How To Lose Faster?

Musings on the first Ashes Test from an anonymous former Australian Test cricketer

Is that what it’s all been about? Have England spent the last four years practising how to lose faster? Because if so, congratulations, lads, you’ve perfected it.

At this rate, in the pink ball Test at the Gabbatoir, they might lose so quickly they go back in time. Wouldn’t surprise me at all if Ollie Pope disappears from people’s television screens like one of Marty McFly’s siblings. And good riddance, too.

Fair dinkum. England just lost a Test match in two days. Two days. They got themselves to 1/65, a lead of 105, and then folded like Huss at poker night. And speaking of folding - how about Zak Crawley? A pair. Both times dismissed by Starcy. Both times trying to drive like he’s in the nets at Canterbury-on-Saint StuffedShirtington or wherever the hell he learned cricket. Mate, you’re facing the new ball in Perth and you’re driving on the up. That’s not bravery, it’s dead set idiocy.

Even accounting for Crawley’s brainlessness - which they must have expected - the Poms still lost 9 for 99 in their second innings. This is what four years of ‘revolutionising’ cricket gets you. Bazball. What a pile of crap. It’s not a revolution, it’s a tantrum. ‘We’re no good at proper cricket so we’re going to slog and call it philosophy.’ Bugger me.

Then Travis Head opening the batting in the run chase, scoring 123 off 83 balls. Went like the clappers. Brilliant batting. Only behind Gilly in terms of fastest Ashes tons - and there’s no shame coming second to Gilly. Trav carved them up. He made their bowlers look like they were having a trundle in the nets. It was a masterclass.

But here’s the thing: it was the wrong masterclass. Because now every young kid watching thinks that’s how you play Test cricket. Hit out. Score fast. Get it done. What will Sam Konstas have learnt from that? Absolutely nothing. It’ll just encourage him to keep batting like a circus clown.

I hate it. Yes, obviously an Australian can do Bazball better than the Poms. Of course we can. We can do everything better than them. That’s not the point. The point is, why would we want to?

Test cricket is supposed to be five days. A battle of attrition. You’re supposed to bat for two days, grind the opposition into the red dirt of this magnificent sunburnt country, watch them wilt in the heat, then bowl them out when they’ve got nothing left. That’s the game.

Instead, we’ve just played white ball cricket with a red ball. And I’m not here for it. If I wanted to watch white ball garbage, I’d watch the IPL. Which I don’t. Because life’s too short. Blokes collecting coloured caps like they’re Pokemon cards - orange caps, purple caps, caps for highest auction price, caps for stupidest haircut probably. Danny Morrison screaming into the microphone like someone’s set him on fire. Cheerleaders. Fireworks. All in the name of so-called ‘fun’.

And that’s what the Poms are on about too. Brendon McCullum standing there with his motivational speaker energy going ‘we’re making Test cricket fun again.’ Mate, Test cricket is fun. It’s fun because it’s a battle. A war of attrition. A contest that unfolds over five days where the tough survive and the weak crumble.

Here’s how this Test should’ve gone. We bowl them out for 172 - good start. Happy with that. Well done, big Mitch. But then we bat properly. Smudge makes a hundred. Marnus makes a hundred. Weatherald hangs around for eighty-odd on debut. We bat until tea on day three. We’re 450 ahead. The crowd’s got their money’s worth. They’ve seen Carey cover driving, Big Cam Green playing a forward defensive, Ussie leaving. That’s Test cricket. That’s what people pay for.

England have been in the field for two days. The Perth sun’s cooked them like a snag left on the barbie too long. Their bowlers have got nothing left. You see the desperation in their eyes when they realise we’re 300 ahead with only three wickets down. You hear them starting to have a go at each other in the field, like a couple in Bunnings trying to find the right timber for their new deck. That’s when you know you’ve broken them. Not when you’ve hit them for a few sixes and they’ve been in the field for less time than it takes to mow your back lawn.

They come out to bat again and they’re already broken. They make maybe 200 if they’re lucky. We win by an innings. They’ve been out there for four days knowing they’re going to lose. That’s how you destroy the Poms.

You don’t do it in two days. You do it slowly. You savour it.

Test cricket is called Test cricket for a reason. It’s supposed to test you. Your technique. Your temperament. Your willingness to crush the Poms until they’re a pile of goo that oozes into the day five pitch cracks. That’s poetry. That’s art.

This two-day rubbish doesn’t test anything except who can hit the ball hardest before they get out. It’s not a test. It’s a lottery. Sure, it’s a lottery in which Australia hold most of the tickets, because the Poms couldn’t play bounce if you gave them a trampoline and an instruction manual. But it’s still a lottery. And I have no interest in watching Test cricketers buy scratchies.

You think AB would’ve played like Head did? Mate, Captain Grumpy would’ve occupied the crease for two days out of spite. That’s Australian cricket. Grit. Determination. Making the opposition suffer.

What Head did was spectacular. But it wasn’t Test cricket. It was a highlight reel. So congratulations, England. You invented a style of cricket that you’re not even good at. And now we’ve shown you how it’s done.

Brisbane’s in twelve days. Under lights. Pink ball. England will be desperate. And if Head opens again and tees off like that, I’m switching off. We should be grinding teams into dust, not giving them mercy killings.

So I’m begging George Bailey, Pat Cummins, Foxy The Idiot Six-Measuring Fox, whoever’s making these decisions - slow it down. Bat properly. Make these Poms suffer for five days, not two.

Let’s save Test cricket by playing it properly. Not like we’re winning yet another ODI World Cup Final.

And if Head can’t do that, it’s time for him to go. Get some blokes in there who understand that the best part of winning the Ashes isn’t the winning itself - it’s watching England realise they’re going to lose and still have to turn up the next day. And the day after that. And the day after that. You can’t do that in two days. You need five.