The Twelve, uh, Eleven Days of Ashes Cricket
Musings on the third Ashes Test from an anonymous former Australian Test cricketer
On the first day of Ashes, the two teams gave to me: an Usman Khawaja back injury
On the second day of Ashes, the two teams gave to me: dumb England shots and an Usman Khawaja back injury
On the third day of Ashes, the two teams gave to me: Carey’s sharp gloves, dumb England shots and an Usman Khawaja back injury
On the fourth day of Ashes, the two teams gave to me: Poms dropped catches, Carey’s sharp gloves, dumb England shots and an Usman Khawaja back injury
On the fifth day of Ashes, the two teams gave to me: Starc scoring runs, Poms dropped catches, Carey’s sharp gloves, dumb England shots and an Usman Khawaja back injury
On the sixth day of Ashes, the two teams gave to me: Ben Stokes a-blocking, Starc scoring runs, Poms dropped catches, Carey’s sharp gloves, dumb England shots and an Usman Khawaja back injury
On the seventh day of Ashes, the two teams gave to me: Snicko spikes a-glitching, Ben Stokes a-blocking, Starc scoring runs, Poms dropped catches, Carey’s sharp gloves, dumb England shots and an Usman Khawaja back injury
On the eighth day of Ashes, the two teams gave to me: Cummins edge a-finding, Snicko spikes a-glitching, Ben Stokes a-blocking, Starc scoring runs, Poms dropped catches, Carey’s sharp gloves, dumb England shots and an Usman Khawaja back injury
On the ninth day of Ashes, the two teams gave to me: Head’s ton scoring, Cummins edge a-finding, Snicko spikes a-glitching, Ben Stokes a-blocking, Starc scoring runs, Poms dropped catches, Carey’s sharp gloves, dumb England shots and an Usman Khawaja back injury
On the tenth day of Ashes, the two teams gave to me: Marnus slips a-catching, Head’s ton scoring, Cummins edge a-finding, Snicko spikes a-glitching, Ben Stokes a-blocking, Starc scoring runs, Poms dropped catches, Carey’s sharp gloves, dumb England shots and an Usman Khawaja back injury
On the eleventh day of Ashes, the two teams gave to me: Easy urn retaining, Marnus slips a-catching, Head’s ton scoring, Cummins edge a-finding, Snicko spikes a-glitching, Ben Stokes a-blocking, Starc scoring runs, Poms dropped catches, Carey’s sharp gloves, dumb England shots and an Usman Khawaja back injury
On the twelfth day of Ashes…
Well, we didn’t fucken get to the twelfth day, did we? Because the Poms have stuffed this up yet again, giving up the ghost in just eleven days of Test cricket. This is Nasser Hussain type shit. And it’s not good enough. Sure, nobody in Australia knows the second verse of Advance Australia Fair, but it’s pretty sorry shit when you can’t even finish a simple Christmas carol parody.
Lord knows we don’t expect much from England when they visit this magical land down under. Them playing like braindead bin chickens is tradition. Like holidaying in Bali or arguing about whether they’re potato cakes or potato scallops.
But we expected better than this. Now we’ve got a meaningless Boxing Day Test at the ’G - ninety thousand people turning up to watch a practice match - and an SCG rubber that’s deader than the Australian car manufacturing industry. We’ve won this series so easily that our captain has decided to take the next match off. One Test of manhandling the England top order, and Pat’s decided he’s had enough. It’s not a challenge for him. Might as well rest his back so he’s ready to face Bangladesh.
And can you blame the bloke? Joe Root’s supposed to be the number one ranked batter in the world and he’s absolutely clueless against Cummo. Can’t stop edging, like he’s some kind of Tantric sex addict. Joe punched his bat in fury after being dismissed by Big Pat in the second innings, and good on him for showing some emotion, I suppose. But mate, anger doesn’t fix stupid. Leave the ball alone. You’ve already scored 13000 Test runs - you can sit on him for a bit.
Thirteen times, Joe. Cummins has got you out thirteen times in Tests. That’s not a rivalry. That’s a subscription service.
Fuck me. The skipper hasn’t played since James Gunn’s Superman was in theatres, back in July. Five months ago. He’s had a longer break than most blokes get for paternity leave. But he comes in cold, dismantles Root completely, barely breaking a sweat, despite bowling in forty degree heat.
Fair dinkum, England. At least make us earn the urn.
Ben Duckett, mate, you’re not a proctologist. Stop poking at everything you see. Harry Brook? Any chance you can turn the Stupidity Dial down to two or three. Just for an innings? And Ollie fucken Pope. Look, I don’t want to kick a man when he’s down, but they might as well send out a traffic cone. At least it wouldn’t give us catching practice.
But here’s the thing that really pisses me off. It’s not just that England are hopeless. It’s that we’re too bloody good. This was supposed to be our worst side since 2010/11. We’ve had selection chaos at the top all year. Remember young Sammie Konstas? Fizzled faster than a dud firecracker on New Year’s Eve. Marnus had to be dropped because he forgot he was supposed to score runs, then came back because he remembered to do so against Tasmania in the Mercantile Mutual Cup or whatever the fuck it’s now called.
Hoff is injured again. Big Cam Green can’t buy a run. We keep accidentally selecting the reserve keeper in the starting eleven. Khawaja got dropped, then recalled because Smudge got a case of the dizzies. The Goat did his hammy mid-match. And we still won in eleven days. Maybe this is our worst side. But it’s not worst enough.
This is the Ashes, lads. It’s supposed to be the biggest rivalry in world cricket. Historic contests. Legendary battles. Shit that matters.
Instead, England come over here, full of bluster and promises and vibes, but less cricketing sense than you’d find at an under-10s Saturday morning match.
And Australia are too bloody good, just mixing and matching their team at random like they’re picking songs from the pub jukebox. I’m pretty sure I saw the bloke who runs the team Instagram account out there in Adelaide, scoring a stylish eighty-odd and taking a hanger in the gully.
The Ashes deserve better. Test cricket deserves better. Australian fans deserve better. Even English fans - those poor sorry bastards staying up all night to watch their mob roll over like a blue heeler wanting its belly scratched - deserve better.
On the twelfth day of Ashes, I want to see some bloody fight.
"Joe Root’s supposed to be the number one ranked batter in the world and he’s absolutely clueless against Cummo. Can’t stop edging, like he’s some kind of Tantric sex addict. " Ahahahaha!
This column was damn fire...apart from Stokes, if England actually managed to play with this much emotion, they might have got somewhere:)
Have a Merry Christmas and a great new year, brother:)