Or so it seemed. And yet. Bangla Desh arrived having seen off the Netherlands in their opening round. And the balance of power in women’s cricket is tilting sharply. The defending champions New Zealand (yes really!) are all but out of the tournament, having been ambushed first by the resurgent West Indies, and then by Sri Lanka, led by Nilakshika Silva’s blazing half-century. The Kiwis have not improved, while others have. Even England – fresh from their demolition of Sri Lanka – were made to work hard by the irish, who defended a very modest total with such vigour that they came moderately close to embarrassment, thanks to superb spells from Orla Prendergast and Aimee Maguire.

And yet some things remain the same. And Australia looks better than ever. The new administration – coach Shelley Nitschke and captain Sophie Molineux – looks determined to stay ahead of the field. Ash Gardner – after an amnesiac performance in round 1 – was rested. Nicola Carey was included, but did not get a chance to bowl, although seven others did. Molineux won the toss, took one look at the pitch, and elected to bowl. Why would you not? It wasn’t a green mamba. Rather it was the sort of wicket under lowering skies where Brian Close would approach his captain Ronnie Burnet and beg to be allowed the new ball and the chance to roll the opposition for a hundred-odd. (He did. Several times.)

Not much need be told of the Bangla innings, which rarely progressed out of first gear. Kim Garth took the advantage of the downhill slope to overwhelm the openers with pace and late movement. In a surprise move Ellyse Perry was offered the ball, and took two wickets in her first over. And all through this Nigar Sultana Joty watched in dismay. The uncharitable might point out that she chewed up 47 deliveries for her painstaking 27. Had she thrown her hand away early her team might have been bowled out for 50-odd. But. She has carried her team’s batting for a decade. And it is not as if anyone else was doing any better. Ritu Moni managed 16 from 26. No blame attaches to her either. Not when you come in at 5/27.

What went wrong for them? They need to learn how to hit with power down the ground, between mid-off and mid-on. Aside from that they did their best. Was Australia really that good? Yes they were. The final total read 8/77. You might expect Australia to knock off the runs in ten overs and they did. A brilliant catch by Ritu Moni despatched Mooney; but Georgia Voll, having missed out against the Proteas, filled her boots with a brisk, unbeaten 45. Perry hit the winning runs on her way to 19. Australia means business this time round. They have won this trophy six times already, but their thirst for glory remains undiminished.

One is not concerned with the soccer-related shenanigans occurring in Canada, Mexico and the Hermit Kingdom. Rather it is T20 World Cup time again. Australia kicks off against South Africa at Old Trafford in the group of, if not death, then perhaps imminent peril. Group 1 also contains India, and at most two of these teams can progress to the finals. Two matches have already been decided in the other group, where the home side blasted Sri Lanka off the park at Edgbaston; and Scotland easily accounted for Ireland in the curtain-raiser here. Sure as Rain at Old Trafford has been an aphorism since the days of John Wisden; but brief glimpses of azure sky and cotton-wool cumulus clouds bespoke a pleasing clemency from on high.

Newly annointed skipper Sophie Molineux won the toss and decided to bat, deducing that the pitch – which resembled a strip of sandpaper laid over a concrete block – would play lower and slower later in the day. Georgia Voll’s inauspicious Cup debut ended with a miscued pull shot for a duck; and Beth Mooney was not herself, defending grimly before chasing a wide one. Wolvaardt elected to bowl her two veteran quicks for the entire power play. Kapp and Ismail bowled with fire and venom, and batting looked difficult against the new ball.

But not for Phoebe Litchfield. Utterly untroubled by the chaos around her, she drove, swept, cut and pillaged her way to fifty. From 23 deliveries, if you please. But she miscued Khaka to Wolvaardt and marched off in fast-medium dudgeon. Of course Wolvaardt caught it. Would she drop anything at all, up to and including her car keys? You might as well expect the entrance of a unicorn in a gingham dress from the pavilion. She took three catches: two of them blinders. Gardner came and went, to a spooned catch from Mlaba, who was the pick of the bowlers, finishing with 2/22 from her four overs, including two at the death. She varied her flight and pace skilfully: sometimes firing in with the spear-gun, and otherwise offering up deliciously-tempting poisoned floaters.

With four down you might expect Australia to consolidate, but the appearance of Wareham at six put paid to that idea. And Perry, who had experienced little of the bowling, decreed that full steam ahead was the best and only possible strategy. They put on 58 off 38 before Wareham fell to Wolvaardt’s final catch. Wickets kept falling, which bothered Australia not a bit. All of these women can bat. There is less tail to this batting order than in a squadron of Manx cats. The innings finished at 8/172, which will be a challenging target. But there is always Wolvaardt. And Kapp. And de Klerk.

Molineux opened the bowling herself with her left-arm spin, and trapped Luus in front. Next over Kim Garth beat Dercksen for pace and took her off-stump via the pads. Surprisingly de Klerk was promoted to four and at once set to work. When King came in with her leg-breaks de Klerk should have been caught on the boundary at bovine corner. Inexplicably, Gardner fumbled it over the boundary for six. By the end of the power play South Africa had reached 43, with de Klerk on a belligerent 22.

The appearance of Wareham in the seventh over made a momentous change as the tall leggie pegged back de Klerk’s off stump. Then Marizanne Kapp was caught loafing on a second run by Wareham’s rocket arm and sent on her way. Meanwhile Wolvaardt was looking anything but content with her lot. Trying to force the pace when your bat feels as though it is made from rubber is always frustrating. She managed a superb inside-out extra cover six from Molineux, but perished to Wareham’s acrobatic catch next ball. Thereafter the Australian spin quartet overwhelmed the rest. Wareham was adjudged Player of the Match for her all-round efforts. A sprightly 22-ball 32, 3/13, a catch and a run-out: really, what more could anyone ask of her? The truth was that Australia had far more contributors than the Proteas, who rely far too much on their gallant captain.

These multi-format series are becoming quite the thing in women’s cricket. Our visiting Indians took the T20 series 2-1, but Australia won the 50-over contests with maximal comfort. And the final event on the card was a day-night pink-ball Test match in Perth: a prospect likely to chill the blood of most visitors. In her farewell to arms Healy won the toss and inserted the Indians. It was a largely flawless performance, indicating a deep knowledge of the game and excellent execution of the plan. In Perth you need four seamers, including at least one left-armer, so Lucy Hamilton was brought in for her debut. She did not have to wait long for success, when in her third over she swung the ball late in towards Mandhana and castled her.

The trick hereabouts is that you pitch the ball up and attack the stumps with a multitude of slips and gullies. You will get hit for a lot of boundaries and you ignore that entirely and keep on pressing. Despite a splendid 52 from Jemmy Rodrigues the innings subsided for 198. There was little or no respite from the assault, and aside from Shafali Verma’s belligerent 35 and a spirited unbeaten 34 from Kashvee, nobody else could manage to stay in for long. Sutherland took four, Hamilton three and Brown two, with Gardner picking up the remainder.

This early success however meant that Australia were obliged to bat under lights. Voll, Litchfield and Healy succumbed early, but the tide turned when Perry was joined by Sutherland. If Perry’s elbow was any higher she might have tipped off her helmet. She played straight, waited for half-volleys and put them all away. Sutherland meanwhile reminded us all how much she loves Test matches. Her last two innings have been centuries in this format, and she set about the business of adding a third. By stumps the home side were 3/96, with far easier conditions to come on the morrow. By the time Perry was unexpectedly trapped leg before by Deepti (for a crucial 76) Sutherland had already overtaken her.

To India’s credit their bowlers persisted. Sayale Satghare is a new face to this writer, but her four wickets were hard-earned and well-merited. Deepti finally removed Sutherland to an agricultural hoick for 129, and India could dream of batting in the comparative calm of the late afternoon. But it was not to be. King and Hamilton each made useful 20s, and lasted until the final session. As the long evening wore on, a blood-red gibbous moon arose in the east, seemingly a portent of doom of some description. Hamilton and Sutherland tore the Indian top order to shreds with some hostile late movement and aggressive catching. By stumps India had collapsed to 6/105, and the contest was all but over. Only a defiant stand by Pratika Rawal prolonged the match into a third day.

Australia began with King, whose first four deliveries on day one had been despatched to the boundary by Rodrigues. By now however there was turn available, and the diminutive leggie was in her element. Her figures of 2/23 from ten overs do scant justice to the brilliance of her bowling. There were the Shane Warne balls swinging down leg and turning past the bat and off-stump. There were top-spinners which exploded like hand grenades. And at the other end Gardner finished the innings. Last to fall was Pratika for a brilliant 63. She fell to a wild swipe, but cannot be blamed for that. She had come in first wicket down and held the fort while the team collapsed around her. With only 25 to make Voll and Litchfield concluded matters in short order. It was a crushing victory by an all-round champion side constantly in search of self-improvement. Hurrah for the green and gold!

For reasons best known to themselves, Australia chose a curious team for their must-win against Sri Lanka. Despite repeated scenes of frustration as a parade of tall, muscular, big-hitting batsmen find themselves swiping madly on pitches that do not suit that sort of thing, it was decreed that the same men would be tried yet again. Except for Renshaw – the one man who mastered the conditions in the Zimbabwe debacle – who found himself resting in the stands in an orange jersey. The pitch in Kandy looked to be a slow turner, which suggested that getting on with it against the new ball might be a fine idea. So well did Marsh – back from his indisposition – and Head play the first six that the score was 0/70. Both went on to complete brilliant fifties before succumbing to an outfield catch (Head) and a top-spinner, both to Hemantha. The home side’s woes had also included a fetlock strain to Pathirana in his first over, which brought the Sri Lankan captain to the bowling crease. Something of an error of judgement on his part, since Shanaka rarely bowls these days.

But thereafter the innings took a depressingly familiar turn. Yes, the pitch slowed up, and scoring became more arduous. Inglis and Maxwell did their best, and at least tried finesse rather than reaching continually for the bludgeon. The less said about the rest of the batting the better. If the only tool in your kit is a hammer, then truly everything looks like a nail. Even when it’s actually a bouquet of flowers, or a bear-trap. After ten overs Australia was 2/100, having just lost Green to an absurd sarabande down the pitch to Wellalage. They were bowled out for 181. Sri Lanka fielded and caught like demons, with just two blemishes: a missed stumping and a dollied outfield catch. Yet Nissanka redeemed his miss the previous over by a brilliant catch to remove Maxwell. The capacity crowd cheered and stamped as the hosts fought their way back into a contest which looked done and dusted an hour before.

Sri Lanka’s innings was punctuated, eventually, by two wickets to Marcus Stoinis, who picked up Kusal Perera in the second over and Kusal Mendis in the thirteenth. For the rest, it was a massacre. Mendis managed 51 from 38. Pathum Nissanka meanwhile blasted his way to a century, from 52 balls, with five sixes and ten fours. It was a spectacle reminiscent of the old Yorkshire pro who said, of JT Tyldesley: ‘I bowls it where I likes, and he hits ’em where he likes.’ At the other end Ratnayake picked off a half-dozen boundaries. In the end it was a crushing victory for the home side. Australia might well be thinking how on earth did we lose this after being so far on top? It was as though the Australians had put their boots on their wrong feet. Truth to tell, this was a poorly-chosen side for the subcontinent. Where was Smith when he was needed? Or Renshaw? Or even Murphy?

It is certainly true that Australia are not necessarily heading home early. An absurd concatenation of results might still favour them. Or a meteorite might strike the team hotel. But that is by the by. This side has been outperformed by the likes of the USA, who have managed two good wins. Even Italy have done better. Thanks to some scorching strokeplay from Ben Manenti, Italy gave England another fright earlier in the day. The surprise packet of the tourney thus far has been the West Indies, who have already qualified with three straight wins in their group. But Australia is going home early, unless there is an unexpected stroke of lightning somewhere.

To this moment we really do not know what went through Travis Head’s mind when he won the toss and elected to field. Common wisdom would have it that you bat first by day, and field first by night. The pitch is slow, and will get slower. Why you would want to field in the heat of the day is, verily, a mystery. As if to underline this point Zimbabwe’s openers Marumani and Bennett hopped joyfully into some wayward offerings and raced to 61 in seven and a half overs. Dwarshuis and Maxwell were hammered. Stoinis alone kept his head, removing Marumani caught behind for a thunderous 35. Burl and Bennett pressed on with a degree of circumspection, knowing the pitch was a 150 one, and hoping for more. In dropping a sharp return catch Stoinis injured his hand and had to limp off. Replacing him for the last ball of his over, Green caused a wayward skier from Burl which was safely pouched by Bartlett.

This brought the super-veteran Sikandar Raza to the crease. He wasted no time and whacked a cheerfully brutal unbeaten 25. Brian Bennett’s unbeaten 64 – carrying his bat through the innings – looked sedate, but his job was to rotate the strike and let the hitters plunder the bowling. Set 170 to win, Australia looked up against it from the first over. You would think that the pitch would not have suited Blessing Muzarabani. Yet it was probably tailor-made for the giant Mashona. Batsmen do not expect the ball to fly off a length on these wickets. Because he delivers from a truly enormous height, the ball can fly from anywhere. He was too much for Inglis and David, while Brad Evans chipped in with the wickets of Head and Green. At 4/29 halfway through the fifth over the contest was more or less done.

Glenn Maxwell’s struggles were piteous to behold. He was dropped twice right on the boundary fence. He did his very best to stay in the contest. Yet the truth is probably that his time has come and gone. After a run-a-ball 31 he fell to Burl’s occasional leg-spin. Yet Matt Renshaw was master of the occasion. His stroke selection was peerless, and while he was still there, perhaps Australia might pull off a miracle. This rather depended on Zimbabwe dropping their bundle, and maybe falling apart in the field under pressure. There was no sign of that whatever. The bowlers stuck to their guns, and the fielding was of the highest quality. Munyonga’s outfield catch to dismiss Dwarshuis was one of the best you will ever see. Finally Renshaw departed, for a brilliant 65 from 44, and the end came suddenly. Australia must now win their remaining two games to stay alive. And with Sri Lanka in white-hot form, you would hesitate to put money on it.

Unlike the longer forms of the game, the ICC has decreed that the T20 World Cup (held, confusingly, every two years instead of four) is very much a Come All Ye affair. No less than twenty teams compete, largely from Associate members. The important thing about this is that in the game’s short form, the gap between amateur and professional is greatly diminished. These lesser sides get a minimum of four matches, and they have showed themselves well and truly up for it. Had it not been for a difficult dropped catch from the hapless Max O’Dowd, Netherlands would have beaten Pakistan. Scotland were well in the game against West Indies until George Munsey was brilliantly caught by an acrobatic leap by Shimron Hetmeyer. England only survived against Nepal thanks to a nerveless final over by Sam Curran. Not that England played badly. Rather the Nepalese played out of their skins and kept fighting on despite losing wickets at crucial moments. Even mighty India found the USA troublesome, and their victory was narrower than the final margin suggests.

There are a few surprising newcomers. Who even knew that Italy had a cricket team? Despite a brilliant 84 from Munsey, and a five-ball unbeaten 22 from Michael Leask, Italy were well in it while the Manenti brothers (definitively Italian, though both are South Australians) were batting, and belting the ball everywhere. But the standout game happened earlier today, where South Africa and Afghanistan fought out a bewildering finale. Many a time the Afghans looked completely out of it, yet they kept on coming; and thanks to a brace of no-balls in the final over Noor Ahmed smashed his way into a tied match and a Super-over. Thanks to Azmat, Afghanistan set the Proteas 18 to win. With a final ball six from Stubbs the scores were tied again. The answer to the question What Happens Now? is apparently a repeat performance of the super-over. This time South Africa managed 23: which looked utterly beyond hope. With four balls to go the target was still 24. Ramanullah Gurbaz, who had made a superb 84 earlier, then smashed the next three balls for six, and only fell at the final hurdle.

So Australia would not have turned up to Colombo feeling overconfident. Half the side’s best XI is missing through injury or otherwise, and the thrashing they had received in Pakistan recently would not have filled them with joy. Head won the toss, stared at the low, slow turner and decided to bat first. He then inexplicably ran himself out. But Inglis and Green hopped into the Irish bowling, knowing that the best time to bat was right now. After five overs the score was 2/56. Thereafter the going became more laboured. Trying to score quickly on a vast arena where the ball does a bit, and refuses to come on to the bat, hanging back instead like a reluctant maiden on an alien dance floor, is not easy. It is like trying to thread a needle in gardening gloves while wading through warm molasses.

Inglis departed to a magnificent catch by Stirling, who launched himself like a flying cement-mixer and hauled in a screamer. Alas, the red-bearded veteran strained a fetlock in doing so. Maxwell came and went without troubling anyone overmuch, as he is all too prone these days. But Renshaw and Stoinis kept their heads and pushed the score along against a battery of probing spinners. The lessons of the Pakistan debacle seem to have sunk in. Instead of trying to hit the ball into the Maldives they collected ones and twos. There were 22 of the latter during the innings, which was a fine adjustment to the unpromising conditions. Stoinis’ biceps and forearms resemble those of the village blacksmith, but even he could find the fence only three times. But their stand of 61 from 44 was highly meritorious. Australia finished on 6/182, which looked enough for comfort on what was most likely a 150 pitch.

The belligerent Irish captain limped off after the first ball. Stirling was still inconvenienced, and much worse was to follow as Ellis took three wickets with his first seven deliveries. Tucker kept his head without threatening anything much, and when the fifth wicket fell at 43 the contest was over. Zampa and Ellis shared four wickets each as Ireland subsided for 115. The only innings of substance came from Dockrell at number eight, whose 41 from 29 was full of merit. Australia has an easy draw, and should qualify as a matter of course for the next round. The best bit was that the batting was sensible, the fielding excellent, and most of the players had a fine workout. With Marsh’s injury Steve Smith has been summoned at the last moment. If Australia intends to proceed beyond the Super Eights, then fitting him in would seem a sensible choice, should this be possible.

On the final day of the Ashes summer, England may be proud of the fact that they made the hosts fight it out. After Matthew Potts’ horrible time at the bowling crease he was determined to show something with the bat. He lasted 80 minutes at the crease for his unbeaten 18. As the runs mounted Australia refused to panic, waiting for the new ball and Mitchell Starc to finish off the innings. Which he did in fine style, finishing with 31 wickets for the series. He was truly the difference between the sides. Australia found themselves chasing 160, which was uncomfortably more than they had hoped for before Bethell’s wonderful innings. His 154 was of the highest calibre, and showed up the want of patience and technique of his more experienced colleagues.

Head and Wetherald put their best feet forward, savaging 18 of the runs in the opening two overs. The score mounted to 62 before things began to happen with terrifying speed. After a wayward beginning Josh Tongue troubled both openers, and sent them both back to over-optimistic swipes into the outfield. Smith emerged, full of intent, and raced to 12 in no time at all. But Will Jacks produced the finest ball of his life, bowling the hitherto unbowlable master with a drifting off-break that turned, if not square, at least far beyond Smith’s formidable defence. Usman came and went, to a guard of honour. The persevering Tongue caught him again parked on the crease with an angled bat, and he played on. Labuschagne meanwhile had decreed that Jacks was an ever-present danger and must be whacked out of the attack. After a 16-run over Stokes perforce took him off.

Then in an excess of zeal Labuschagne charged down the wicket for an improbable single. Carey sent him back, and despite a balletic dive for the crease was well short of his ground. At 5/121 England was still in the game. But Australia’s depth won the day, as Carey and Green knocked off the runs in quick time. The hosts’ belligerent attitude in the second innings was the right one. Chasing a small target you cannot afford to poke and prod, since an unplayable delivery might happen at any moment. England missed chances in the field. Khawaja edged Jacks between keeper and slip, and neither Smith nor Stokes got near it. Labuschagne whacked Tongue to gully, but Bethell could not hold onto the ball, which had, to be fair, travelled with the muzzle velocity of a cannon shot. Tongue was magnificent. But after 11 overs of fire and brimstone the man was spent, and his replacement Carse leaked runs. He is an energetic paceman who bowls a number of excellent deliveries. But he does not achieve the consistency required for a Test match fast bowler.

And Potts did not bowl at all. Nor did the injured Stokes. It would have been no comfort for Stokes to learn that Somerset paceman Jamie Overton had bowled the Adelaide Strikers to an unexpected victory earlier in the week. Injuries have decreed that the mercurial quick only plays T20 now. It is a sign of the times. England brought a pace battery to these shores, but down they went like tenpin bowls. By the end Stokes had run out of pace options. Wood, Archer, Atkinson and himself had all succumbed to injury. And Starc? He is pushing 36. Yet he kept on firing throughout the summer, and delivered a handsome 4-1 victory to his team. For Australia, Khawaja’s retirement means that Australia can play both Green and Webster if they feel like it. The latter must not be omitted again for the forseeable future. It is a rum affair for such a Dad’s Army team to triumph so spectacularly. Scott Boland is 36, and has been on the interchange bench most of his career. Yet he played all five Tests and took 20 wickets at an incredibly low average. He gave nothing away. Yet time is ticking on for most of this team. Fortunately, likely replacements are waiting in the wings next time England arrives on these fatal shores.

The morning began with Stokes breathing fire and pawing at the ground. Alas, like Bumrah before him, his weary body could last no longer, and off he limped with a strained fetlock. The man has carried his battered team on his shoulders all summer, and suddenly his Trojan might had failed him. Smith and Webster continued to add thoughtful runs. Smith had quietly shelved his bizarre choreography of yesterday, which had included back-somersaults, constant vocal commentary and shouted requests for less ice-cream in the stands. But the morning turned against the home side when Tongue resumed. He has been England’s best bowler, and he caused Smith to nick behind with a superb leg-cutter. He bowled Starc with another beauty; and Jacks removed Boland first ball, leaving Webster unbeaten on 71 and still without a Test century. He deserves one.

Starc made up for things by striking in his first over. Again. Crawley failed to offer a stroke to a venomous late inswinger and was trapped in front. Perhaps he is a slow learner. Every international batsman knows about Starc’s inswinger. He failed to read the memo. Thereafter Duckett and Bethell rode their luck and reached 80 by lunch. It was sensible batting under the circumstances. The pitch is playing tricks. Green smote Bethell on the helmet with one that exploded off a length. Duckett edged Neser straight to slip where the sure hands of Smith awaited receipt. Alas for him, Green’s giant arms flashed in front of him in a diving, acrobatic attempt which spilled the catch. It was that sort of morning.

After lunch Duckett’s luck finally ran out when he chopped on to Neser. Playing with a diagonal bat on an up-and-down wicket is bound to fail sooner or later. His 42 was his highest score of the series, in which he has averaged just 20-odd despite making a great many starts. It works on docile English wickets with shorter boundaries. Not here. The selectors probably ought to have known that. Root came and went, never looking comfortable for a moment. Bowlers lift at the mere sight of the man, and he clung to the crease for 37 deliveries before the indefatigable Boland trapped him in front. His sole boundary was edged through a vacant third slip from Starc, who merely gave a rueful grin. It is his way. No disaster seems to daunt his sunny temperament.

Meanwhile Jacob Bethell appeared to be batting on a different pitch entirely, as if he were on a sunny Edgbaston bread pudding wicket. Australia offered him a good deal of chaff, especially from Green; and he cashed in as if he had not a care in the world. By tea he was on 79, and the irrepressible Brook had raced to 24. Astonishingly, England was still well in the game, only nine runs in arrears with the home side having to bat last. How Australia missed the guile and cunning of Lyon! The suporting acts, after Starc, Boland and Neser, looked decidedly threadbare. The omission of Murphy looks more and more a mistake. There is spin available. If Bethel and Jacks could turn it (they did) how much more could a specialist spinner extract? And Shaoib Bashir must be a lonely and mournful figure in the English rooms. He will never know how things might have gone.

Enter the man from Snug. The giant Tasmanian all-rounder boasts many strings to his metaphorical bow. He is a capable top-order batsman, a brilliant fielder, and a serviceable medium-pacer. On a pitch crying out for quality spin bowling, at last Smith called upon Webster’s fourth-string. He did not disappoint. Brook, on 42, was trapped in front by a vicious off-break. For reasons best known to himself, Jacks hoicked his second delivery straight to Green at Bovine Corner. Worse was to follow. During a comical over of Labuschagne bouncers, Bethell set off for a run, froze after about a third of one, and attempted to return. Smith meanwhile had managed a run-and-a-half, and was caught well short doubling back by a deadly throw from Wetherald. The wounded Stokes then laid back to a shortish off-break from Webster and hit it straight to Smith at slip.

Smith then took his 215th Test match catch with a sharp take from Carse off Boland. He is one behind Root in the pantheon of catches other than from ‘keepers. The rest are nowhere. And yet through all these calamities Bethell batted on and on. And on. At stumps he is unbeaten on 142, with only Potts and Tongue to keep him company. Almost single-handed, he has kept England still marginally in the contest. It has been a magnificent innings from a youth inexplicably kept out of the side until the Ashes were gone. The lead is 119. Australia has stumbled before in Sydney seeking a lowish total in the fourth innings. Tomorrow will reveal the final stanza.

It may well be a Tuesday but it felt like a holiday, with another packed, pink-emsembled crowd, most of whom were looking forward to another century from Head. He did not disappoint. He was caution’s own son at first light, and quietly saw off a fine spell from Stokes and Tongue. After an hour or so the hapless Potts was recalled, and his first three deliveries were smacked to the boundary. Thereafter Stokes went for a 7-2 field, which helped contain the moustachioed opener. (Contain? You mean he kept on scoring at a run a ball!) And Neser? Ancient wisdom would have it that the nightwatchman should defend for the first twenty minutes, then hit out or get out. The embattled Queenslander knew better. The first hour would see renewed bite in the wicket, and his job was to take as much of the strike as he could. When offered full deliveries outside off, he swished and missed. But whenever the ball was aimed at the stumps he offered textbook defence.

All this was designed to frustrate England. It worked, too. The time to open out is later on. Worse was to follow. Carse was summoned, and a far-flung field set to catch a hooked bouncer. Head obliged; hit the ball straight to Jacks on the boundary … and he dropped it. Stokes’ downcast features were silent but eloquent. Head was dropped again at deep third man, and resolved thereafter merely to take singles when they were on offer. And this spurred Neser into belated action. He threw his bat at the ball and played some glorious strokes. Then England set a Bodyline field for him too, but he was not to be tempted. Finally it occurred to Carse to pitch up, and Neser obliged him by edging behind. Yet his 24 from 90 deliveries had been a priceless asset to his team. It meant Smith emerged at a quarter to twelve with the pitch notably quieter, and the ball very much older.

Smith was his usual skittish self. His hyperactivity may not have pleased Head, who prefers to walk singles where possible, but Smith made him hurry. The skipper was then dropped at leg-gully. In the final over before lunch Jacks dropped a sharp return catch from Head. It was not England’s morning. They persevered, and tried many different tactics. When Head pulled a ball from Potts into the second tier, despite the presence of three men patrolling the leg boundary, Stokes reverted to more usual methods. Yet nothing went right for him. An afternoon of toil awaited. And Head is on 162, at a run a ball. The prospect was enough to intimidate anyone.

As it happened, England opened with Jacob Bethell’s left-arm orthodox offerings. He caused Smith to loft a drive perilously close to the fielders. In his second over he trapped Head in front. Where was his spin earlier? To be brought on with the score approaching 300 is a trifle late in anyone’s book. Usman came out for his final match, with a good hour to play himself in before the new ball. He was his usual languid self, and managed a minor role in a fifty partnership with his captain. But he was trapped on the crease by Carse and departed. The latter then bowled full to Carey, who smoked three quick boundaries before falling to Carse’s leg-trap.

At six down and still behind Australia’s grip on the match had slackened. England were still well in the contest, since the pitch is playing up and down and you don’t want to be batting last if it gets any worse. Enter Green, from the Last Chance Saloon. He and Smith put on a brisk 71. But with the bowling at his mercy Green gave his hand away, holing out to Duckett in the deep. Webster’s job was to accompany his captain to his century, which he managed without mishap. It doesn’t seem like a home summer without a Smith century, and at the last gasp he achieved it with a leg-glance for three.

Beau Webster has waited a long and weary time for his chance. He has done nothing wrong, and pretty much everything right, in his brief Test career. He wasn’t going to waste his chance when it finally came. And Smith? The man was in his element. Pitch playing up and down? That’s fine. I’ll just get head, body, pads, bat, and kitchen sink behind the ball and let my battle computers do the rest. As the shades of evening began to fall England wilted. The pair put on 81 in brisk time without ever really exerting themselves. They resume tomorrow at 7/518, with Smith on 129 and Webster on 42. The chance will come tomorrow to drive the final nail into the English coffin. You would not bet against them doing just that. And Starc still waits in the wings.

When play resumed at the unaccustomedly early hour of ten, the pitch seemed to have gained a little extra something overnight. If you bowl on a decent length, there is seam movement. Boland removed Brook caught behind for a breezy 84. But there: Brook’s innings always have an air of evanescence, as if he could go out at any moment. Starc roused himself for Stokes and had the English captain caught behind off an away-seamer. Suddenly 5/229 did not look promising. Yet Root was his imperturbable self again. Once before in this series he has knuckled down and concentrated hard. When he does this, a century appears inevitable. And it was.

He put on 94 with Smith, who was fortunate indeed to be reprieved when Green overstepped. With the new ball imminent Australia reverted to some allsorts offerings. With the bowling at his mercy Smith made the curious decision to smack at Labuschagne’s bouncer and hit it straight to Boland in the deep. Smith batted throughout as though he had an urgent train to catch. Root did his best to calm his companion down, but in vain. Nonetheless six down with 323 on the board was better. And Jacks to come in at number eight.

Jacks dug in for a useful 27 while Root’s majestic innings rolled on. But Michael Neser became unstoppable with the new ball, making it jump about and seam. He removed Jacks quickly. Green had Carse caught behind for 1. With the innings collapsing around him Root hit a return catch to the grey-bearded Queenslander, and Tongue lost his stumps. Neser’s rejuvenation had cut England’s total to 384. Which to be frank looked about a hundred short of what was required. Root’s batting was beyond all reproach. The man had made 160 and was ninth out. But there was not enough from the supporting cast.

With nearly three hours after an early tea to go, Australia had the chance to make some serious inroads into the match. The pitch continued to offer seam movement all day, provided the bowlers kept to a good length. This they were utterly unable to do. Matthew Potts perchance deserves some sympathy. The man has been cooling his heels in the background all tour. He has played no cricket to speak of. And suddenly he is asked to open the bowling in Sydney at the very end of the tour. It is unsurprising that three overs of chaff were duly punished. His second spell was not much better. The man has a decent record in Test cricket. Today was an unreasonable ask.

Carse’s opening spell was little better. In no time at all Head and Wetherald had raised a fifty partnership, without the latter looking in any way likely to last the distance. Only when Stokes and Tongue replaced the wayward openers did the attack get underway properly. Stokes trapped Wetherald in front of the stumps. Given the South Australian’s idiosyncratic stance it looked inevitable. Labuschagne came out to bat with a refreshingly positive attitude. The man was looking for runs, and found them aplenty with England’s indiscriminate seam bowling. Alas for Marnus, he wafted outside off, yet again, and edged Stokes to Bethell. Both dismissals had an air of inevitability about them, and if they wish to keep their spots in the batting order something will have to be done.

And then there was Travis. He batted with circumspection, blocking all the good balls bowled at him. The chaff he despatched with maximum prejudice. There was a good deal of that, to the extent that the man is 91 not out at better than a run a ball. He has hit fifteen boundaries so far. He will resume tomorrow with the nightwatchman Neser, and look to build a substantial lead. 2/166 was an unexpectedly healthy return for a session of batting. It rather depends on whether the incoming batsmen treat the conditions with proper respect. While the pitch is full of runs, it is still offering enough to the seamers. One wonders what Webster will make of coming out to bat at number nine. We wish him all the best. He deserves a decent hit at some stage.