A day of conflicting Ashes fortunes as Australia find their Churchill

SAM MORSHEAD borrows some authentic quotes from the former prime minister to help tell the tale of a dramatic first day of the 2019 Ashes series at Edgbaston

Scorecard

“I never take pleasure in human woe” - Glasgow, 1953

‘Cheerio,’ the Hollies Stand sang contentedly. 

‘Cheerio, cheerio, cheerio.’

It was too early to be boisterous, but it was still bullish - an enthusiastic send-off for their favourite pantomime villain. Exit David Warner, stage left (for two), pursued by boos.

England’s supporters had paid for this opportunity, after all. They had paid for the chance to see him grimace, to see his shoulders drop, to take pleasure in his woe. 

To hell with what Tim Paine had to say the day before. 

“They’re human beings, they’ve got feelings, they’re no different to anyone else”. Pah, so what. Who cares. Laugh at the Aussie. 

Australia had predicted the hostile environment - though that hardly required the powers of Nostradamus - they had discussed it at length in team meetings, and nothing that greeted Warner and his opening partner, Cameron Bancroft, could have come as a surprise.

But Warner must surely have been taken aback by this 14-ball circus of an innings, during which he was given not out after being caught down the legside, warned by the umpires for batting in the wrong place, survived an England review and then departed lbw to Stuart Broad to a delivery which Hawkeye showed to be destined to miss leg peg.

Still, at least everyone could boo. That’s the important thing. 

^{Stuart Broad claimed 5-86 on day one at Edgbaston}

“Craft is common, both to skill and deceit” - House of Commons, 1947

Cameron Bancroft has been in fine fettle for Durham in the County Championship this summer.

The opener’s decision to relocate to the north east of England was a brave one, opening himself up to both the difficult batting conditions of April and May, and a fanbase unconvinced that he should even be representing the club, let alone as captain.

It showed strength of character, the likes of which had abandoned Bancroft in those mindless moments last March when he was talked into scrubbing a cricket ball with sandpaper. 

“I’m Cameron, I play cricket. Yeah, I made a really poor mistake,” he said in the spring, introducing himself to supporters at Chester-le-Street.

“I’m really sorry for that. I will come and say ‘g’day’, say hello, shake your hands, sign your stuff. I will go out there and have fun for Durham Cricket.”

Bancroft returned from his nine-month ball-tampering ban a less intense, more open-minded individual. He spent his time out of the game doing charity work and studying to be a yoga instructor, trying all the while to improve flexibility of body and mind. 

That attitude paid dividends. Bancroft made 726 first-class runs at 45s and 377 List A runs at 94s in the English summer, going into this Test match at Edgbaston, hitting four centuries across formats. His obdurate 90 against his fellow Australians on a nibbling green-top in Southampton the week before the Ashes began ensured that it would be he and not Marcus Harris accompanying David Warner at the top of the order.

The makings of the redemption story were there. Sadly for him, so was Stuart Broad.

Broad is at his best on mornings like these - 25,000 eyes trained on his every step, an entertainer thriving on the sense of occasion.

In he bombed, delivering fuller lengths than usual, asking Bancroft whether he really wanted to step across his stumps in quite such an exaggerated fashion time and time again.

Bancroft was unbowed, the poker player chasing a flush. 

‘No, I will not fold.’ ‘No, I will not leave.’

As the seasoned cardsharp, Broad’s strategy was tried and tested. Lay the bait and reel them in.

Full length, full length, full length… and then the kill. Slightly shorter, slightly wider, drawing Bancroft’s edge. The perfect plan, the perfect heist. Craft, skill and deceit.

^{The umpires had a difficult day}

“We must beware of needless innovation, especially when guided by logic” - House of Commons, 1942

Sometime in the future, sport will be arbitrated not by trained humans but by machines and algorithms. Errors will be eradicated, total fairness ensured and entertainment value halved. 

In one sense, cricket could have done with our robot overlords on Thursday, such was the standard of umpiring on show.

Both Aleem Dar - an official of vast experience - and Joel Wilson (recently appointed to the ICC’s select group of umpires) are unlikely to have curried any favour with the assessor on duty, with a series of incorrect decisions.

Dar wrongly judged Warner not to have flicked Broad into Bairstow’s gloves down the legside, then gave the opener out lbw with the ball angling past the foot of leg stump, while Wilson’s not out decision against Usman Khawaja was overturned when Ultra Edge showed a spike as Chris Woakes’ outswinger passed the edge of the Australian’s bat.

Steve Smith saw Dar raise his finger when he was rapped on the pad offering no shot, only to reverse the decision with the aid of Hawkeye, while James Pattinson ought to have done the same when Broad sent an inducker around the wicket careering into his legs.

Wait, there’s more.

England needed another trip upstairs to get rid of Matthew Wade lbw, Peter Siddle middled one into his front pad and was triggered by Wilson and then the on-field pair, their confidence presumably shot like stand-ups facing a wall of silence, needed the help of TV colleagues to confirm a bump ball which was quite clear to just about anyone who hadn’t sunk upwards of three pints of expensive lager in the concourse.

As technology improves, so the expectation on umpires intensifies. At the moment, human eyes do not appear able to keep up. 

Right now, the ICC’s top officials appear to be engaged in a perennial game of opposites. If it’s not out, it’s out; if it’s out, it’s not out; DRS is being so overworked it won’t be long before it’s demanding membership of a trade union; and punters are being robbed of overs as a result. 

VISIT THE ASHES HUB

“Give us the tools, and we will finish the job” - radio broadcast, 1941

Steve Smith divides opinion.

He divides opinion between those who believe in time served and those in favour of stiffer sentences. He divides opinion between cricket’s aesthetes and others who don’t really care how runs are scored, just as long as they are.

He divides opinion between teammates and family members, from the UK to the other side of the world.

Yet, regardless of what you think of the man’s morals, it is very hard to downplay his qualities as an international batsman. Scratch that, to do so is downright ignorant.

In a Test world moving far too fast for its own axis, Smith provides a quite welcome antidote. He takes his time, he knows how to leave - flamboyantly, too - and he judges line and length perfectly. Immediately, when given out lbw playing no shot here, he knew to review. The guy comes with a built-in sixth sense for his off stump, some Jedi-level psychic wizardry. Honestly, put that 28-inch piece of timber on any planet between Alderaan and Yavin 4 and Australia’s erstwhile captain would be able to track it down faster than you can say ‘mangled metaphor’.

Here, he arrived at the crease with his team tiptoeing on the precipice at 17 for 2. At 35 for 3, one foot was over the edge. Later, at 122 for 8, the tourists were scrambling for the one branch sticking out of the side of the cliff.

Yet there was Smith - calm, commanding, confident. Happy to pick the ball off middle at 85 miles per hour and work it through fine leg as if it were nothing more taxing than brushing his teeth.

With Peter Siddle, he put on 88 and turned the volume down inside Edgbaston. He faced 219 deliveries - the rest of the Australian top nine faced 154. He worked out what needed to be done and did it. A simple equation that on days like today requires a genius to solve.

There was a long embrace with Nathan Lyon but no tears when he reached three figures with another ugly drive through extra cover - a job still needed doing, and he was the only man to do it. 

^{Peter Siddle was crucial to Australia's revival}

“It is the time to dare and endure” - Manchester, 1940

Peter Siddle made his Australia Test debut 473 matches ago. That’s 20 per cent of Test history.

Since that day in Mohali nearly 11 years ago, he has racked up 1,122 runs for his country in the longest format at an average just over 14 - healthy for a tailender, if not particularly fearsome.

He has contributed plenty of gritty, sticky, rearguard efforts, saving Australia from oblivion, but few can have been quite as important as this.

Because without Siddle, even Steve Smith would have been rendered useless. Smith needed a partner to stay with him as the ball misbehaved, someone to show the patience his top-order teammates had lacked.

And Siddle stuck his hand up. He batted for 109 minutes - no one but Smith hung around longer. He faced 85 balls - no one but Smith faced more. 

With England hamstrung by the loss of Jimmy Anderson, who has dismissed Siddle on 11 occasions in Tests down the years, and their attack leaking rhythm and fizz with every extra over they were being asked to shoulder, he found himself in quite a comfortable environment. When eventually he fell, caught at short leg off Moeen Ali, he had made his best Test score against England of 44.

He dared. He endured. Australia ended the day resurgent.

To celebrate England winning the World Cup you can subscribe to The Cricketer for just £20.19. Click here to learn more