When Australia resumed this morning the threat of bad light was palpable. And while their position was comfortable enough, it was equally clear that there was not a moment to lose. Head’s departure to a nothing stroke on his pads was poor, and hints at a fateful complacency that has crept into his game. Lofting the ball through the off-side is his signature tune. Good luck catching him there. But at times he wafts lazily onto the on-side. He did so this morning and presented Jansen with a very soft wicket. But Maddinson and Labuschagne kept up the pace until Maddinson departed for a splendid 48. His stumps were scattered by a Nortje thunderbolt, but he had done his work nobly. At drinks Australia had raced to 111 for 2 from a mere 20 overs, and one was obliged (in memory of Shep) to keep one foot off the floorboard until the resumption.
By lunch the score was 4/174. Smith had lofted Harmer over long on for six, narrowly missing Jansen’s Inspector Gadget grasp. He repeated the stroke, and this time the giant from Klerksdorp hauled it in. Labuschagne fell to Maharaj. The wearing pitch was taking appreciable spin now. But an all too familiar sight had emerged, hulking, mild-mannered, and quietly determined. Renshaw began as he had left off, reverse-sweeping the spinners with ease and panache. He and Carey took the score to 205 until another lightning flash from the fire-breathing Nortje cannoned off Carey’s bat onto the stumps.
Webster has experienced a lean time of it of late. He took a dozen balls to get his eye in before getting off strike and handing it back to the imperious Queenslander. Batting looks terribly simple when watching Renshaw play. On rare occasions he mishit, but in sweeping he clubs the ball into the pitch first, and to the quicks his soft hands saved him more than once from a slips catch. He and Webster managed 65 from 71 deliveries as the spectre of declaration approached. When Maharaj had him caught-and-bowled on the carpet for 82 it was a surprise to everyone, not least the delighted bowler, who juggled it a few times like a recumbent stage magician. He held the ball aloft, and the video replay confirmed his optimism.
Captain Pat emerged wearing a Cheshire Cat grin, and pummelled his way to an unbeaten 31 from 12, including four enormous sixes. His stand with Webster produced 45 from 19. He called time thereupon, decreeing that a lead of 420 would be sufficient. Aside from Head, no blame attaches to any of the Australian batsmen. All made it to double figures, and everyone who lost their wicket did so while pushing for runs. The innings total of 6/314 was achieved at the madcap rate of five and a half an over.
The home team, weary and battered, made their way out. Rickelton’s Test match thus far has been a dismal one, and it was not surprising when he wafted at Hazlewood as though swatting at an incursion of wasps. Carey pouched the catch and Australian hopes soared. But Aiden Markram stood his ground: grim, unsmiling, and determined to sell his wicket dearly. He erected fascines, gabions and barbed wire around his crease and defied everything cast at him. At the other end David Bedingham batted as though on a Caribbean cruise. He struck eight sumptuous boundaries on his way to 46, whereupon he wandered across his stumps, was accosted in front by Hazlewood and departed.
As in the first innings Bavuma found himself stranded above the waterline, unable to pierce the field or urge the ball off the square. Lyon was asking searching questions, without really threatening the stumps. In a moment of inspiration Cummins threw the ball to Renshaw. Why not? Had the captain asked him to walk across the harbour dry-footed to Bayhead he might well have done that too. He tossed the ball up just outside off, Bavuma’s bat edged it onto his pad and it flew to Maddinson at short leg. Sometimes the part-timer can achieve what the regulars cannot. Worse was to follow when Stubbs came and went, edging behind to Carey from Cummins.
And still the menacing clouds stayed away. And there stood Markram, still defending his personal rampart. At 4/86 the clouds of doom were present in spirit. Mulder joined him and saw off the final overs without further calamity. At 4/102 victory is a distant hallucination. For the visitors, prising out the last six wickets may take time and effort. Pitch misbehaviour has been conspicuous by its absence. Markram has shown his fellows the way. His unbeaten 45 has occupied 115 deliveries. He has rarely looked troubled. Want of concentration has been the downfall of the rest. More in due course.