Despite the three-nil scoreline hitherto, the gap between the two teams has been a gulf rather than a chasm. The tourists are by no means as bad as some would have it; nor have the hosts been as good. Australia triumphed because they won all the big moments. Today they lost the match before lunch, when six wickets tumbled down and left the innings in ruins. The English seamers straightened up their bowling and attacked the stumps, and Australia had no answers. Wetherald was undone by his crouching stance yet again. The head  should be over the line of flight, not exchanging pleasantries with silly point. Labuschagne fell tickling outside off yet again. It was a fine leg-cutter which removed him; but his dismissals have become all too predictable. Yes, we feed him with cutters on fourth and fifth stump and sooner or later he’ll nick it.

The pitch had quickened up today, as expected. The sportive seam movement had not evaporated. Batting was hard work, and perilous; but not impossible. Head was dropped once from Tongue, but made an excellent 46, and was only undone by Carse’s best delivery of the entire series. When a man insists on batting outside leg stump, a prudent seamer will pitch on leg and aim to hit the top of off. This Carse did. Tongue ambushed Khawaja with one that jumped off a length. Usman hooked instinctively and the ball flew to fine leg. Then Carey, Australia’s saviour on so many occasions, nicked off to Brook from Carse. At lunch Australia was 6/98, with Smith and Green defending grimly. The match was almost gone.

The one question remaining was would anyone be able to stay with Smudger. Smith was his usual idiosyncratic self. This is one of his favourite grounds, and he laid out his customary ropes, flags, bunting and storm lanterns around his wicket. No, I am not going out. I see what you’re doing there and I shall adjust my stance to deal with it. Please? Could somebody stand with me? Alas, they could not. Green began promisingly until he chased a short, wide one from Stokes and hit it straight to Brook in the cordon. It was a dreadful stroke from an alleged top-order batsman. It would not surprise to see him replaced by Webster in Sydney. Neser was unfortunate enough to spoon a leading edge back to Carse, who sent down a seaming thunderbolt to remove Starc. Richardson straight-drove a classical boundary. Then hubris overtook him and he skied a catch straight up in the air.

Smith was left stranded, unbeaten on 24. Should he have farmed the strike? Or was he right in assuming that every possible run should be taken? We will never know. But Australia’s second innings was a shambles. Too many men gave their hands away. And England? Perhaps today we saw what might have been, had England shown the needful humility in preparing properly for this series. Brydon Carse suddenly looked like a Test opening bowler. Stokes and Tongue were a constant menace. Atkinson only bowled five overs owing to a niggling fetlock, but he wasn’t needed. The other three swept aside the much-vaunted hosts in less than 35 overs.

With the pitch slowly settling down, the target of 175 looked very achievable. And for once Crawley and Duckett’s hey-go-mad habits at the batting crease looked judicious and praiseworthy. They swung like a pair of rusty gates in a hurricane, and in no time at all they raised their fifty partnership. In seven overs. Duckett’s leading edge fell short of Starc’s grasping fingers by the merest smidgen. Starc’s leg-before review for Crawley was a similar distance off. It was not to be Australia’s day. Finally Starc unleashed his perfect away-swinger and cleaned up Duckett’s stumps. But the damage had been done. Neser was treated with disdain, and was mercilessly pillaged.

For reasons inscrutable by normal folk Carse was sent out at number 3. The experiment was brief. He swung like a blacksmith; Smith pushed the field out, and a skied waft from Richardson fell safely into the hands of deep third man. Now came the crucial innings from Jacob Bethell. He is England’s young project player, better-known for his white ball exploits. Yet he has class, timing, and an excellent eye. At once he set about the attack. Finally Boland was brought on, and brought some sanity to the game. He really ought to have opened with Starc, but Neser’s first innings inroads earned him first dibs on the new ball. When Boland trapped Crawley in front, at 3/112 there was still the faintest spectral chance for the hosts. Yet Bethell snuffed it out with some sensible hitting. By the time he attempted his first village green stroke (a back-foot loft from Boland into the covers, where Khawaja pouched it) he had made a quick 40 and all but secured victory.

Australia were not done yet. Root was trapped on the crease by Richardson, and Starc dismissed Stokes – yet again – from an airy waft to the keeper. It is not the hosts’ way to concede anything at any time. But Brook and Smith finished the match. England won by four wickets. But Australia lost it by their want of attention and technique before lunch. An unexpected rest now impends before the final chapter in Sydney. Both sides ought to make changes. For the long-suffering Barmy Army this was a moment to savour.

Having won the toss, Stokes took one look at the grassy, rubbery surface and had not the slightest hesitation in inserting Australia, who were soon in diabolical trouble. Carse was his usual prodigal self, but Atkinson was tight and threatening, and induced one of Head’s kryptonite shots, cutting far too close to his body and edging onto his wicket. And Josh Tongue was devastating. It is an enduring mystery as to why he was not picked in the first two Tests. He pitched the ball up and moved it around, especially back into the right-handers. He picked up Wetherald with a leg-side strangle, Labuschagne fiddling outside off, and Smith with an absolute beauty which seamed in off a very full length and took his stumps. Khawaja had been picked to bat at number five, but he might as well be opening. He and Carey fought it out until lunch, taken at 4/72.

Things did not get much better after lunch. Atkinson caught Khawaja on the crease with an away-cutter and Smith took a simple catch. Then Stokes induced a loose waft from Carey which went straight to Crawley at leg slip. 6/91 was not what anyone had expected. Worse might have followed when Neser on zero edged behind to Smith, but the ball had bounced just in front of his gloves. Feeling that they may as well have a bit of a go, Green and Neser hit a flurry of boundaries and at drinks 6/120 looked marginally better. After all, Australia could comfort themselves with the reflection that the luxurious grass cover would mean the ball won’t stop seaming around any time soon. Nevertheless more runs were an absolute necessity.

The second stanza of the afternoon session was an adrenaline-charged extravagance. Neser continued to attack the ball. In an excess of zeal for the fray he managed to run out the misfortunate Green. Carse picked up Starc from an agricultural hoick to mid-off, during which England had a slice of luck when nobody appeared to notice that the bowler had overstepped. Tongue blasted away the remainder, finishing with an only slightly flattering analysis of 5/42. Yes, there was seam movement. But this was no green mamba, and it didn’t look a 150 pitch. When your Number eight top-scores it is a generally a sign that something has gone wrong. Yet Australia’s plan was clear. Thrash for a bit and get England in as soon as possible. An early tea meant they would have nearly three hours at the visitors. Enough for a few wickets, at least, perchance?

Certainly England’s top order looked their usual evanescent selves. After eight overs from a fire-breathing Starc and Neser England was 4/16. The less said about the hapless Duckett’s attempted leg glance from Starc the better. Jacob Bethel got a ripping away-cutter from Neser which was taken behind. Crawley edged behind to Smith from Starc, and Root wafted at Neser and edged to Carey. Thereupon Brook decreed that his customary hell-for-leather was indeed the right way forward. Perhaps it was. He batted as if there really was no tomorrow, scything his way to 41 from 34 before he missed Boland’s off-cutter and was trapped leg before.

Had he played more circumspectly would he have missed it anyway? Perhaps he would have. Jamie Smith  was then undone by another off-cutter. Smith leaves a gap between bat and pad. It wasn’t a gaping chasm. More like a narrow vertical letter-box. But Boland found his way through it. Of course he did. Jacks looked all at sea, but was unfortunate enough to receive yet another giant off-cutter from Boland which also stood up off a length and took his inside edge. Neser returned to the bowling crease and trapped Stokes on the crease. He edged it half-heartedly to Smith in the slips. As at Brisbane, Neser was used as a medium-fast spinner with Carey standing up to the stumps. The deadly effect of having a first-rate keeper prepared to stand up to 130 k deliveries cannot be overstated. The Englishmen love to wander out of the crease and whack the ball thither and yon. But with Carey standing up to the wicket such extravagances cannot be allowed. Thereafter the innings subsided into chaos, though not before Atkinson had flung the bat to good effect. He is a whole-hearted cricketer and should be among the first picked. It took the advent of Green to the crease to pick him up. Incredibly, England had been bowled out in thirty overs.

The day ended with the triumphant Boland playing nightwatchman for the final over of the day. Normally this cannot be justified; but with only one over to play his job was to ensure that Head did not face a ball. Nor did he. The last ball careered off his outside edge for four. It was truly a madcap day. Almost a hundred thousand spectators got their money’s worth. Fours and sixes in plenty, and twenty wickets. Only 76 overs or so were bowled. But there would not have been too many complaints. Another two-day Test match? You would not bet against it. Although the pitch will be faster tomorrow. Will it seam less? Maybe, or maybe not.

Matters came to something of a crisis on several occasions today. A rain delay, leg-before decisions overturned or failing to happen, a dropped slips catch from Green – of all people! – an unfortunate injury to Lyon, some resolute batting from the English lower order: all of these caused spectators to grip their umbrellas rather tighter than had been anticipated. Yet at no point did Australia falter. The pitch remained true. Head reminded everyone that he is not and possibly never will be a Test quality spinner. Cummins could not break through. Yet the imperturbable Starc came roaring back with the new ball and broke the last defences. It was fitting that Boland took the final wicket. Without him Australia might have been beaten. His 18 overs for 1/35 may not sound much, but England’s tail was in full cry, looking to score at every opportunity. Yet the resolute Boland allowed no liberties.

The Ashes are done, in just eleven days. Yet England have learned from their errors of judgement. Their final score of 352 owed itself to resolute, sensible batting. Traditional virtues, like getting your eye in first and playing within your means, suddenly made batting look easier. Yet they failed in the mammoth task because nobody went on to make the big hundred that might have conjured a miracle. Jamie Smith made 60 before a wild stroke at Starc brought about his undoing. Jacks’ 47 was cut short by another brilliant Labuschagne special in the slips. He at least was not to blame. What Archer was thinking when he wafted Starc to catching third man can only be conjectured. And Brydon Carse was left unbeaten on 39. He has form with the bat, although his 14 wickets thus far have flattered him.

Both sides have much to ponder for Melbourne. For the tourists, Bethel should get his chance at number 3. Something must be done about both Pope and Duckett, although it is hard to find a replacement opener in the squad. Bashir must come in. This business of part-timers bowling long, prodigal spells cost England the match this time. For Australia, Green has underachieved all series, and might lose his place to Webster. Presumably Kuhnemann will replace Lyon, who was last seen hobbling around on crutches. And Smith will return, presumably in place of Inglis, who twice fluffed his lines. On to Boxing Day. There is still pride to play for. We wish England all the luck in the world. They will need some.

Australia began the day as they had left off overnight. Head proceeded to 170 before hitting a catch to Crawley from the persevering Tongue. Thereafter events moved with ominous speed. Before lunch Australia found themselves all out for 349. Tongue, Carse, Stokes, and finally Archer harvested six fairly easy wickets. It was as though the Aussies had decreed that they had enough runs and may as well have a crack at England. Allan Border would have kept them out there for much of the day. The taciturn Captain Grumpy would have decreed much more pain, and a target of at least 500. But there: repeated disappointments had driven the iron deep into his flinty heart. Captain Pat seems made of more sanguine and exuberant stuff.

He began by prising out the hapless Duckett in his only over before the main break. If the definition of insanity is to keep on doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result, then Ben Duckett stands accused. Wafting an optimistic diagonal bat well outside off-stump has not worked well for him thus far, and today was no different. Straight after lunch Cummins had the equally hapless Pope brilliantly caught by Labuschagne in the slips. But he saved his best delivery for Joe Root, who had stroked his way to an effortless 39. The Cummins leg-cutter struck again. Root had no need to play at it; unless he feared the off-cutter. As well he might, for a fast bowler who seams the ball both ways is a perilous antagonist.

The crisis came with Harry Brook. We have begun to suspect him of being a flat-track bully. Well here he was, finally batting on an excellent track, and doing as he pleased with the bowling. England had learned their lesson and decreed that in future batsmen would play themselves in before becoming expansive. This Brook did. He, Root, and Crawley had dealt harshly with Lyon, sweeping him (forward and reverse) with impunity. But on 30, with English hopes flickering into new life, he attempted a hopelessly optimistic reverse sweep to Lyon’s quicker, fizzing off-break. It took the leg stump. Brook stood there, bewildered, unable to comprehend what had happened. As Wilfred Rhodes once told a young Varsity man: ‘Tha’s missed it young man. Now p— off: we’ve a train to catch.’ Fortunately, these are more polite times.

Suddenly energised, Lyon steamed in to Stokes and bowled another of his dream balls. Stokes stood motionless, all too aware of what had happened. A 90 k delivery aimed at the stumps, swooping into the pads, and turning away to strike off-stump. There is not much Stokes could have done about it. Meanwhile there was Zak Crawley. Here is a man who has underachieved as an opener. A Test average of around 30 is rather under par. All too often he goes out too hard and throws his hand away. Not today. After 30 balls he had made a solitary single. Thereafter he appeared to discover that patience really is a virtue. As wickets tumbled around him he stood firm, defended when he needed to, and scoring freely when possible.

He made his way to a brilliant 85 before leaving his crease to drive at Lyon, who floated the ball up outside off. Alas for Crawley, it was Lyon’s arm-ball, which sailed impudently past his bat and into Carey’s waiting gloves. The day ended with Jacks and Smith defending desperately against Lyon and Head. At 6/207 you could get odds of a hundred to one on an English victory. The target is 435. Tonight it seems as far afield as the Hindu Kush.

The words of the ancient sea shanty were peculiarly appropriate today. Travis Head and Alex Carey are Croweaters born and bred, and during the evening session they all but snuffed out England’s dying hopes. Which was a thousand pities, since the day began with the redoubtable Stokes and Archer continuing to resist. The ninth wicket stand of 106 in 30 overs demonstrated with stark clarity that the pitch was still at its best, and those prepared to fight it out could survive and prosper. It took Starc’s best ball to crash through Stokes’ defences. His 83 had occupied five hours of watchful defence, and judicious strokeplay. Boland removed Archer for an excellent 51. By this time Australia’s lead had shrunk to less than a hundred.

When Wetherald declined the opportunity to challenge his dubious leg before decision the home team were on the back foot. Labuschagne was not himself, finding that Josh Tongue’s fast in-cutters were squaring him up. He must fix this defect in his technique if he wishes to keep his spot, and it was no surprise when he edged behind. As did Khawaja, though in the languid Queenslander’s defence he had made a sumptuous 40. Usman makes batting look so easy. Green was abominably thoughtless for the second time and edged Tongue to Brook. With Australia at 4/149 England were still in the game.

Head and Carey soon put paid to that. Batting looked suddenly the simple proposition it was. England sprayed the ball around; their spin attack was helpless, and the two local men delighted the immense crowd with their succulent strokeplay. Head’s only blemish was when on 99 he edged a low catch to Brook, who grassed it. After lofting Jacks over his head he raised his bat for his second hundred of the series. Perhaps opening really is his metier after all. And Carey was every bit as impressive. By stumps the home side had reached 4/271. England still may entertain faint hopes; but the horizon suddenly looks a long way distant.

And Stokes did not bowl at all? Give the man a break. He had been cramping horribly during his marathon innings. Despite some dubious captaincy – massively exacerbated by his bowlers’ inability to maintain a decent line and length – he has carried this team on his mighty shoulders with bat, ball, and in the field. He deserves far more help than he has received. One would imagine he will front up tomorrow, with the old ball, and bend his back once more.

Any hopes that England might have entertained about wrapping up the innings quickly soon evaporated. Starc and Lyon weren’t going anywhere. Worse, while Lyon defended stoutly at one end, Starc indulged himself with his favourite plan on true wickets: standing outside leg and hitting considered shots through the off-side. By the time he was castled by the persevering Archer he had reached a meritorious 54. Even then Australia weren’t done. Boland struck three more boundaries before Archer trapped Lyon in front for 9. He had batted for an hour and made a crucial contribution. Australia’s 371 was more than anyone had bargained for. Of the bowlers, Archer’s 5/53 was an excellent effort. Stung by earlier criticisms, he kept up a good pace and attacked intelligently. Had his captain set a third man earlier, his figures would have been tighter. The rest were rather below par.

The stern resistance of the tail meant that the home side only had to bowl 14 overs before lunch. And what a drama unfolded therein. For once Starc went wicketless, and Duckett helped himself to a few boundaries. Crawley on the other hand succumbed to a Cummins special: late seam movement just enough to take the edge behind. The early arrival of Lyon at the bowling crease showed just what might be achieved on an apparently docile track. First he induced a loose waft off his pads from the hapless Pope, who was well caught by Inglis. Then Duckett, whose run-a-ball 29 had looked impressive, found himself castled by an off-spinner’s dream delivery. Round the wicket, no air to speak of, pitching on a fullish length and straightening enough to hit the off stump. He departed, apparently bewildered. But Lyon has been champing at the bit all series, waiting for his moment. Two wickets in his first over? It was well worth the wait.

It was left to the two Yorkshiremen Root and Brook to play out until lunch. Root was very lucky to survive a caught behind decision off Boland. It looked awfully out, but DRS said otherwise. Perhaps it was payback for Carey yesterday, who had feathered behind in the seventies and been inexplicably reprieved. With Australia now well in front, England will be made to fight.

The afternoon session was, for England’s army of Barmies, a thoroughly depressing experience. The plan seemed to be to wait for the rubbish balls and punish them. Australia’s bowlers’ response was Good Luck With That because there won’t be any. It was a tight, disciplined attack from Australia on a pitch which had flattened out into an autobahn. Boland led the way. His pitch map showed metronomic accuracy, pitching the ball from various places on the bowling crease into the shoebox. We will give you nothing to hit. Want to try your luck with shots that aren’t there? Fee free.

Only late in the day did Stokes and Archer show what was required. The latter really ought to be batting no lower than no.7. He showed not only skill, talent, and temperament. He also demonstrated the patience in which the allged batsmen were found wanting. With England’s hopes hanging by a thread, it was down to two lion-hearted seam bowlers to show what was indeed possible.

Adelaide is a frightful tease. In the days of Les Burdett you won the toss, made five or six hundred, and settled down to attempt to prise out the enemy. It might turn on day five, or it might not. These days it is a different kettle of ballgame. With baking heat forecast, a goodly carpet of grass was allowed to bloom. There would be something in it before lunch for the bowlers. Australia won the toss, and England served up a curious bouquet of doubtful offerings. Archer bent his back and bowled fast, though too short. Carse bowled an appalling selection of chaff, duly punished by Wetherald. Was there any method in the madness? Perhaps there was. Wetherald crouches awfully low in his crease, which can affect his ability to play cross-bat strokes. Twice he missed Carse’s long hops. Then Archer bowled short and fast to him; he got himself into a horrible tangle and presented Smith with the simplest of catches.

Thereupon it finally dawned on Carse that maybe he should pitch the ball up to Head. Immediately Head did not quite keep the ball down enough, and Crawley took a fine catch low down. At 2/33 the home side found themselves in crisis. Brisbane notwithstanding, it is becoming apparent that Head is not a Test opener, and needs to return to number five. Josh Tongue at first change bowled fast and accurately. He always does. He induced a wayward flail outside off from Khawaja. The ball flew to Brook at second slip, who grassed it. Khawaja is only playing at all because Smith was ruled out with vertigo. But with the pitch visibly dying already, the imperturbable Usman must have breathed a small sigh of relief, and set about the bowling.

He took his time to get going – as he invariably does – but by lunch he had reached 41 off 55. He and Labuschagne added 61 in brisk time, and at lunch Australia was 2/94. Two overs from Jacks cost 17 as the Aussies helped themselves to his cafeteria offerings. The ugly truth is that Root is a better off-spinner than he is, and Jacks is only really playing to bolster the batting: itself a timid response to some irresponsible swiping in the first two matches. And yet. Just before lunch Jacks did turn one away on a good length. Khawaja was only saved by his soft hands, as the ball fell just short of slip. Nathan Lyon will have taken due note.

The afternoon session began in farce, with both Labuschagne and Green presenting Archer with gift-wrapped early Christmas presents. Two warm-up balls at well below top pace, both meekly spooned to Carse at catching mid-wicket. Carey began as is his wont, and cut a firmly-cut boundary; and he and the sanguine Khawaja attempted to wrest back control of the match. Carse bowled better after lunch, but Tongue lost his line and length and had to be replaced. Then came a long spell in which Stokes toiled away at one end while Jacks haemorrhaged runs at the other. Inexplicably Khawaja essayed a lofted sweep and presented an outfield catch when a century was his for the asking. Nevertheless his 82 had been a godsend to the home side, who had been well and truly caught napping.

The final session was one of frustration for the home side. Inglis came and went with a brisk 32 before failing to note that Tongue’s seam movement is dictated by his extraordinary action (somewhat reminiscent of Max Walker’s tangle of arms and legs) and he will jag the ball back. Captain Pat failed to keep Carse’s in-cutter down and was brilliantly taken by Pope. Even Carey may regret his rush of blood, deceived by Jacks’ slower ball and hitting straight up into the air. Nevertheless his industrious century was magnificent. Only the stalwart Starc stayed at his post, helped in the gloaming by a strokeless Lyon. The decision to drop anchor was sound, inasmuch as the fall of a ninth wicket would trigger an extra half-hour. Australia really wants to bat tomorrow. And they will.

The day was narrowly England’s. They persisted against the odds and watched Australia’s batsmen get in, and get themselves out. Archer? 16/5/29/3 flattered him only a little. He was a constant menace, and the home side wisely decided to see him off. The other seamers were exceedingly curate’s egg: good in parts, and horrible elsewhere. Jacks? Twenty overs for 2/106 was testament only to his persistence. He never gave up, and got a little belated reward. The curious incident of the dog in the night-time was the complete absence of Root from the bowling crease. He has dismissed Carey four times in Tests. Yet Stokes persisted with Jacks. And Bashir? England’s premier spinner must wonder why he is even on this tour.

Any evanescent thoughts of an innings victory soon melted in the fierce sunlight. Stokes and Jacks had come to fight it out, and before the break defied seven bowlers. The closest Australia came to breaking the partnership was a spitting cobra from Boland which took the edge of Stokes’ bat and flew agonisingly just above Green’s Go Gadget arms in the cordon. Aside from that the largely somnolent pitch, and Nathan Lyon’s impassive stare in the pavilion, told their contrasting tales. England drifted into the lead, and eventually Labuschagne tried an over of liquorice allsorts. All to no avail. Stokes was going to bat, and bat, and bat; and see if Australia’s bowlers could be worn down. In that event, after dark his plan would be to go berserk and attempt to conjure an impossible victory.

In the afternoon shadows Head dropped a hot chance from Jacks at short leg: a place where they either stick or they don’t. This one didn’t. Stokes reached a sedate fifty, and Australia sought inspiration. They found it when Neser induced a sharp edge from Jacks, taken just off the grass by Smith’s bootlaces. A miraculous catch for anyone else. Probably routine for him. He has well over 200 Test catches. This was one of the better ones. The longed-for incision then came when Stokes edged Neser behind to Carey, who was standing up to the stumps and treating the bearded Queenslander like a medium-fast spinner. Then Atkinson pulled Doggett straight to mid-wicket. This time Smith did not have to bend, and he tossed it away with a grin. Back at a fine slip to the energetic Neser, he pouched another to dismiss Carse and it was all over. 65 to win, and no-one imagined that Head and Wetherald would be dawdling on the way to the finish line.

Nor did they. In the five overs before the break half the runs were peeled off. Archer sent down a few thunderbolts, and Head hoicked Atkinson all over the greensward. No-one knows why the dinner-break was taken. Common sense might have suggested that a break after five overs was surplus to requirements. Perchance it was a contractual obligation to the caterers. After the break Atkinson bowled beautifully, inducing a play-on from Head and a snorting lifter outside off to remove Labuschagne. All too late, alas. We don’t know what was in the refreshments served, but Smith came out in his black war-paint breathing fire and brimstone. Beaten by an Archer fireball, he suggested that the man try bowling faster. Archer obliged, and was whacked for a four and a six over fine leg.

For a dreadful moment lightning crackled between the two men. Then Archer smiled and turned away, realising that he had been deceived; and the moment passed. Smith finished the match with another six, and embraced his colleague, having scored an unbeaten 23 from nine balls. It was another eight-wicket victory. At least England put up a better fight this time. But it is apparent that their laid-back preparation has betrayed them. In Adelaide Captain Pat will return, and Lyon, and possibly also Hazlewood. With the series all but gone, England has some soul-searching to do. Josh Tongue must be given his chance. Probably also Bashir. Jacks might keep his place instead of Pope. Or else Jacob Bethel: a better-credentialled number three. They have been comprehensively outplayed by a weakened eleven. Stokes cannot do it all by himself. And his captaincy left a great deal to be desired.

There was a curiously tentative attitude from England this afternoon. Matters began well for them when Neser wafted outside off and was caught behind. It was a poor stroke unworthy of a capable batsman. Carey and Starc survived until the new ball; but Atkinson received a belated reward when Carey also flashed outside off. At eight down the end appeared to be nigh. And yet. We all sensed that something different was in the air. When Mitchell Starc plays with an upright front elbow he means business. The Australian plan was self-evident. Keep them out in the broiling sunshine for as long as we possibly can. We want to be bowling with a shiny hard new ball tonight. Preferably not with a soggy tomato. Stasis suits us just fine. The longer we keep you out here the happier we shall be.

The curious incident was that England seemed to be in no hurry to wrap up the innings. Carey was happy to take every run on offer, trusting in Starc to survive anything cast at him. When Boland came out at number ten Starc began to farm the strike. And once Starc reached twenty-odd the field went out to the boundaries. Starc gave his customary saturnine smile and applied himself to the team plan. Boland’s adhesive nature is well-known locally. Like Australia’s last First Nations seamer Jason Gillespie, Boland loves being the nightwatchman. Given free range to block as much as he pleases, he did just that. Eventually he even played a shot or two. And little by little, Starc allowed him to take more of the bowling.

England’s plan appeared to be that of Vladimir and Estragon. They were waiting for some extraneous happening which might give meaning to their endless struggle. Yes, Neser and Carey had got themselves out. What to do when neither of the incumbents show the slightest sign of batting suicide? There did not appear to be a Plan B. England largely wasted the second new ball, either over-pitching, or under. Every now and then a delivery would come along pitched on a perfect length, seaming either way, at a good pace, and beating the bat with ease. And spectators might well applaud and say Great bowling mate! Why don’t you do it more often?

For 27 overs numbers nine and ten defied everything thrown at them. Yes, Starc has exceptional talent as a lower-order bat. Boland has great endurance and spirit. But there was no urgency. A spread field often merely encourages the batting side. So you don’t want to get us out? Well OK then. We’ll settle in for the summer. Their stand was worth 75 before Starc finally lost patience. Like many a bowler before him, reaching seventy-odd not out has the same effect as high-altitude mountaineering. By the time Doggett succumbed to Jacks Australia had reached 511. It was a notable scorecard, in which all eleven players reached double figures. Yet Starc’s 77 was the top score.

A bare six overs remained until the dinner break. Crawley and Duckett made the most of them, clubbing 45 useful runs. Thereafter, as the shades of evening fell, so too did the English batting. Neser picked up both Crawley and Pope caught-and-bowled. England has not yet fathomed his subtle changes of pace. Boland began to seam the ball around off a fullish length, and despatched both Duckett and Brook. The latter’s dismissal was an awful lapse in judgement. Surely some coach back in Yorkshire must have told him that playing either forward or back was desirable. Being caught on the crease is asking for trouble.

And Starc? His opening salvo was erratic, as one might have expected from a man who’d batted two-and-a-half hours in the baking sun. After a short refresh he was back to his menacing and ebullient best, and had both Root and Smith caught behind by Carey. England will resume tomorrow with six wickets down, and still with 43 runs to make the home side bat again. Stokes has pulled off many a miracle in his time. If he can get England out of this one, it will be the greatest escape since Harry Houdini.

England’s innings wrapped up early. Nevertheless, that tenth-wicket stand of 70 showed three things. One: when he applies himself, Joe Root is a master batsman. Australia never even looked like getting him out. Two: Jofra Archer has rare talent for a number 11. He has underachieved thus far with the bat in his chequered life, but the all-rounder’s mantle was always a possibility. His 38 was a fine knock. And three: this is a largely docile wicket. Yes, there are cracks. The odd ball flies off a length. But the pink ball gets soft quickly, and it might be a long day in the sun for England.

Contrary to all expectations, Head and Wetherald began with three maidens. Thereafter they began to open out. Truth to tell, Head was not himself. It may be that opening is not his best place after all. He was dropped on three: a high catch which Smith muffed, and first slip was unable to drag in. When Carse held one back a trifle Head whacked it skyward for the easiest of catches. Nevertheless his 33, from an opening stand of 77, was a decent effort.

But the star of the afternoon was Wetherald. His stance at the crease makes it appear he is understudying Charles Laughton in The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Yet this is not necessarily a design flaw. Was not Gilbert Jessop known as The Croucher? He, Head, and Labuschagne made hay while the sun shone. At the tea-break the score was 1/130. From 21 overs, if you please. Bazball? Not in the least. The awful truth is that, Archer aside, the bowlers sprayed the ball everywhere and were pitilessly punished. Hi-tech bats, shorter boundaries, and venturesome batting have transformed Test cricket. Why: yesterday Rachin Ravindra made a run-a-ball 176 at Hagley Oval. As a knowledgeable spectator once remarked at Bridgetown: If you short or full today, you going to get paint.’ England were both, and paint, or a version thereof, they got.

After the break England tidied up their line and length to an extent, although Carse was still bleeding runs at a terrifying rate. Stokes’ damage report was barely better. Archer’s second spell was exemplary, if down a little in pace. There was nothing whatever wrong with the swinging yorker which pinned Wetherald in front for an excellent 72. Smith emerged, endlessly fidgeting as is how wont, and managing to appear to be in diabolical trouble without ever in fact being so. Labuschagne continued to hit the ball high, wide and handsome until he fanned at a wide one from Stokes and nicked behind. Green came out and played punishingly through the off whenever England overpitched. By the adjournment the home side was was 3/228, with still a great deal of work to do. For the third time in the match a session produced 2/98, which you would generally classify as a tied contest. Someone will have to go on with it.

With the shades of evening descending the much-dreaded night-time session began. Australia would have been happy to have two set batsmen in the 20s. But Stokes was in something of a dilemma. His spearhead Archer had already bowled twelve overs. He would need to be held back for later. Stokes himself had bowled eleven. The initial assault would have to come from the frugal Atkinson. And Jacks? His single over had cost thirteen. Yet he was picked at least partly for his bowling, and would surely have to be entrusted with a few more overs.

As it happened, Stokes went with Archer first up. And again later on. For someone whose match fitness has been so often questioned, Jofra strove with might and main for twenty overs in the heat and humidity. England could have asked no more of him. Yet Green and Smith did as they pleased, putting on 91 in 19 overs without unduly exerting themselves. Then Stokes threw the ball to Carse and told him to bowl Bodyline with deep catchers out. His first over cost 17 runs. Yet Green outsmarted himself by backing well away from the stumps to a fast yorker. Bodyline bowling is the last word in ugly cricket. Yet as long as it keeps working England will keep trying it on. Immediately Smith glanced in the air whereupon Jacks took a fine diving catch. Suddenly Carse had three wickets. His figures at stumps read 17/1/113/3. Readers may decide for themselves whether this constitutes success or otherwise.

Inglis went on with the job, coming in unfashionably late at No.7. He made a brisk 23 and lost his stumps to Stokes. Wth the home side six down England was storming back into the contest. Yet their four-man pace attack was all but exhausted. So were the fielders. Four of the five catches that went down were late in the day. Some were easy, some very difficult. Fatigue, and difficulty picking up the pink ball in the gloom, doubtless played their part. And England were faced with Carey at his most belligerent, and Michael Neser in front of his home crowd. They put on 49 at a fast clip, and are still together at stumps. Australia’s lead is 44. They will want a good deal more yet. The pitch is a little up-and-down already. By and large, it was Australia’s day.