More than any other arena on earth, The Gabba is where illusions are pitilessly exposed. Michael Kasprowicz was once asked, after a two-day Shield victory, how much he enjoyed bowling there. You think it’s easy? he asked, with mounting incredulity. The pitch is fast and true, with minimal seam movement. If you can’t really play, then it is here that you will be found out. Australia made what seemed to be a strategic error in team selection, once it became clear that the captain was not quite ready and ought not to be risked as yet. And so they picked an all-seam attack. It is far from clear that five seamers can do what four cannot. Michael Neser was chosen, on grounds of local knowledge. This was more or less justified when he picked up Crawley to an awful off-side hoick. For the most part Neser bowled with Carey up to the stumps, at a brisk fast-medium. This was probably not what England expected. And they did not seem unduly fussed about it either.
Brendan Doggett was also selected, having taken five wickets in Perth, and was therefore deemed too valuable to be omitted. Yet his bowling offered nothing of substance on this pitch. Neither did Green, although he was as ever chosen primarily for his batting. Yet this meant that Lyon was squeezed out. The justification was obvious. If youse blokes are only going to bat for thirty-something overs we may as well not pick a spinner at all. And yet. What if England decides to bat properly? Where will you be then? In the event, many of the visiting batsmen did just that. Crawley – coming off a pair as he was – batted with verve and panache, looking for runs at every opportunity. By the time he essayed his suicidal swipe at Neser he had reached a brilliant 76. He may be forgiven this indiscretion, having dug his side out of a substantial crevasse caused by the genius of Mitchell Starc, who today went past the mercurial Akram as the highest wicket-taker among left-arm quicks.
Starc began as he left off in Perth. Surely no bowler – not even the sublime SF Barnes – has ever struck more often in the opening over of a Test match. No blame whatever attaches to Ben Duckett, whose golden duck was nothing more than the result of a perfect delivery to a left-handed opener. He had to play it, and it swung away late and took the edge to Labuschagne. Ollie Pope by contrast was very much to blame for wafting outside off with a diagonal bat and playing on. With England at 2/5 a subdued Root marched to the middle. This time it was a very different Joe Root. He eschewed the diagonal bat and quietly accumulated runs as only he knows how. Those 13,000 Test runs were no accident. By lunch, with England on 2/98, the visitors were on top.
After Crawley’s departure Brook made his usual breathless entrance. This writer opines that Harry Brook is a batsman of erratic genius. But if he wants to go down in history as a flat-track bully then he’s going the right way about it. Not long ago he made a triple hundred in Pakistan. I saw some of it while on holiday. He has every stroke in the book and quite a few that aren’t. After a run-a-ball 31 he wafted at Starc’s away-cutter and was caught in the cordon. This was not what his team wanted or needed, and his fellow Yorkshireman at the other end must have given a rueful sigh. The breathless run-rate slowed to a crawl. Ben Stokes takes his cricket seriously, and played himself in with care until he set off for an incautious run and was thrown out by Inglis’ matchless athleticism. Jamie Smith came and went in the evening dew when Boland moved one in off the seam and scattered his stumps.
Will Jacks came out at number 8, being the replacement for Wood, whose fetlock failed to come up in time. It was a timid selection. Jacks is a useful off-spinner, though not anywhere near Bashir’s class. He will find bowling hereabouts a severe trial. Yet he is a proper batsman; and he settled in to try to give Root the support he needed. He made his way to 19 against Green and Doggett before Smith decreed that the time for more Starc was at hand. As so many have done before him, Jacks wafted well outside off-stump and nicked behind. Root, on 98, would have been unamused. Yet his well-earned hundred came up with a leg-side boundary. The Barmy Army went berserk, as well they might.
Thereafter things began to move with alacrity. Atkinson skied Starc over the keeper’s head. Both Carey and Labuschagne sprinted after it, each oblivious to the other. A fearful collision seemed imminent. Surely the ball was out of reach? And yet two things feared and hoped for both occurred. The two Australians crashed into each other; but Carey pouched the ball anyway for Starc’s fifth wicket. Carey once turned out for the GWS Giants in Australian football. Their loss was Australia’s gain. I doubt he ever took a mark under such torrid circumstances. Then Carse, who really ought to have known better, wafted well outside his off-stump and the now-weary Starc had six wickets.
Yet full oft the tail of the scorpion is deadly to behold. Archer began to throw the bat around; and Smith, sensing a declaration, pushed the field well back. Delighted with this decision Archer and Root swung hard and often. By the end of play they batted with circumspection. Despite this the last-wicket stand had reached 66 from seven and a bit overs. By stumps England was 9/325, and could feel well satisfied with their day’s work. Tomorrow is another day. Going by what we saw from the old ball – Starc’s unearthly genius excepted – they may well struggle with the pink ball. A sobering thought for England is that their best swing bowler is about to turn out for the Sydney Thunder. Reece Topley would have been a handy inclusion here. Inexplicably he appears to have been banished from their thoughts.