In Dorothy L Sayers’ Murder Must Advertise, the aged Mr Brotherhood enquires with some asperity ‘Why on earth did you send this man in ninth?’ (This referred, inevitably, to Lord Peter Wimsey’s dazzling batsmanship.) A similar question might be asked of Nigar Sultana Joty. Fresh from their thrilling victory over Pakistan, the Bangla side found themselves inserted at Guwahati on a pitch with a degree of turn available. Bell removed Dzhili early, and Smith induced a feeble catch from Joty. At 2/25 and suddenly deprived of their twin batting heroes, Bangla Desh seemed rudderless, adrift in a Sargasso Sea of inertia. No blame whatever attaches to Sobhara Mostary, who held her end up and collected such runs as made themselves available. As wickets steadily fell around her, it was all she could do to fight on and attempt to get some sort of total on the board. She top-scored with a patient 60 (off 108), but her partners seemed mesmerised by England’s spin quartet.

When Ritu Moni was finally out for 5 off 36 it seemed a moment of relief. Yes, there was spin. But not extravagant spin. It was like watching a somnolent net practice as the run-rate plunged downwards. Two-thirds of the balls bowled were dots. There was no attempt to force the pace or improvise, save against the two seamers, whose twelve overs cost 1/60. Ecclestone, Dean, Smith and Capsey took the other nine wickets exceedingly cheaply. When Rabeya Khan went out to bat at no.9 the camera kept turning to the pavilion, where Joty expostulated visibly. Could somebody please DO something?? she appeared to be beseeching the heavens.

Rabeya is but twenty years old, and has it appears no fear of anybody. As she swept, drove, glanced, glided and clubbed the English attack all over the park, it simply went to show what might have been possible. When the final wicket fell in the last over she was left stranded, unbeaten on 43 off 27. Going by what we saw, she must be sent in no lower than no.6 in future. But even as she thrilled the crowd with her exuberant strokeplay, the lasting impression on the viewer was What Then Will England Do?

Marufa began proceedings with her customary brio, trapping Jones leg before in her first over. She then dropped Beaumont off Nahida: an easy catch which ought to have been taken. Undeterred, she had Knight caught behind: a decision later reversed on mystifying grounds. She then trapped Beaumont in front, and repeated the dose to Knight, who successfully appealed again, and was spared once more. At least this time the decision was comprehensible. Marufa must have steeped on a pavement crack, or else crossed the path of a black cat; for she had little luck.

The Bangla spin battery kept things relatively quiet at one end. At the other was Nat Sciver-Brunt, who had had quite enough of all this excitement, and raced to a run-a-ball 30 by drinks. Thereafter Knight enjoyed yet another bewildering reprieve, this time for a catch in the field. She would be well-advised to buy herself a lottery ticket tomorrow. Then Fahima Khatun took a hand in proceedings. She induced a loose waft from Sciver-Brunt; trapped Dunkley in front, and had Lamb go for an ambitious leg-side swipe which landed in Nahida’s grasp. For a dreadful moment the umpires reviewed the catch. For a direful moment it seemed Bangla Desh might be sawn off yet again, but sanity prevailed and Lamb was on her way.

With England at 5/78 the match was tottering towards an upset. Capsey strode to the wicket and played an excellent cameo of 20 until she played all over the left-arm spin of Meghla and was palpably leg before. England 6/104 and still knee-deep in trouble. What would Knight do? By this stage she had reached a cautious, sedate 27, trusting in the favourable star which had thus far preserved her. But she appeared to decide that Charlie Dean was a reliable partner. And Joty’s problem was that, the excellent Khatun aside, her wrist-spinners were steadily bleeding runs. And indeed Knight and Dean calmly picked off the runs, taking their time about it because they could. They saw off Khatun, whose ten overs produced 3/16. Bangla Desh had put up a tremendous fight, but the palm went to England after all. Knight’s unbeaten 79 was the difference.

The weather which denied Australia two days previous held off, and nothing worse than clouds of insects discommoded the players. It seemed there was something irresistible about the cricketers out there which inspired clouds of winged spectators. The fielding side attempted to discourage them with spray cans, but they may as well have tried to drain the Indian Ocean with a bucket and spade. Having been thoroughly trounced by Bangla Desh in Colombo, Pakistan’s match against India looked to be the mismatch of the tournament. Yet Pakistan showed considerable fight despite a poor beginning.

And India have problems of their own. All their batsmen got a start, but none carried on to an innings of great substance. Only a punishing 35no (from 20) by Richa Gosh saw India reach even a moderate total of 247. And Pakistan, for the first time, actually bowled India out on the final ball. Diana Baig had a bad day with the ball, but still managed four wickets. Could Pakistan make a fight of it with the bat, after their previous horror show? Indeed they did. Sidra Amin made a superb 81. But she did not get enough support after Kranti Gaud tore through the top order. Deepti Sharma finished the job, but India are still misfiring. They will need to play better against Australia and England.

Meanwhile in Indore Laura Wolvaardt lost the toss against New Zealand. This is very much by the form book. Some captains are born under a fortunate star when it comes to coin tosses. Wolvaardt isn’t. This is a vital game for both sides, coming off losses. Lose this and you’re in deep trouble. Devine stared at the piebald pitch, pondered the non-appearance of dew in Australia’s game, and seems to have decided the surface won’t get any better later on. The Kiwis lost Suzie Bates first ball to Kapp’s late outswing when what looked like a leg-side drifter turned out not to be. Thereafter the Wellington twins Plimmer and Kerr played with circumspection and a great many dot balls. When the Proteas erred in line and length – a rare enough occurrence – the batsmen cashed in. The power play ended at an unusually sedate 1/38.

The match continued to meander aimlessly. Plimmer’s struggles were awful to behold; and Kerr, feeling that Something Ought To Be Done, swiped de Klerk wide off mid-off and was taken by Luus. Devine strode to the crease and managed to kick-start the scoring rate. But Plimmer remained stranded in the doldrums, and eventually succumbed to Tryon’s first over. Her 31 had chewed up 68 deliveries and she may even have felt some fleeting relief that her travails were over. Brooke Halliday may have rubbed inadvertent salt into Plimmer’s wounds by joyfully hopping into Tryon’s spin. She raced to 31 off 18 by drinks and seemed to be having fun out there. Devine must have appreciated the respite at the other end. Halliday has discovered the joys of sweeping, and the spinners suffered. The seamers had been bowling straight, and both Devine and Halliday glanced so often that Wolvaardt felt obliged to retire to deep fine leg to stop the boundaries.

3/148 off 32 appeared to promise an eventual score in the region of 260-270, with Devine and Halliday picking up singles at will. But on 45 Halliday skied Mlaba back to her and departed. Mlaba finished with 4/40 from her ten overs of skilful left-arm spin. She varied her flight and pace and the White Ferns had no answers. Chief among her wickets was Devine, who was unfortunate enough to be bowled off her pads. Wolvaardt’s catch to dismiss Tahuhu was more redolent of a conjurer’s stage than a cricket field. 231 was far less than New Zealand had hoped for. But this pitch is slow, and a little uneven. If the White Ferns could equal their opponents’ brilliant fielding and disciplined bowling, they still had a fair chance.

This hope proved as evanescent as morning mist. After Jess Kerr removed Wolvaardt early, Brits and Luus strolled towards their goal and nothing went right for the White Ferns. Sune Luus struggled for survival without throwing her hand away, and finished unbeaten on 83. But the Proteas’ innings was all about Tazmin Brits. She danced down the pitch and clubbed the spinners anywhere she pleased. She reached her fifth century this year with fifteen fours and a six, from 89 deliveries. When she was finally out the target was 46 from almost 20 overs. Three late wickets fell, but this was junk-time. South Africa have revived their campaign. New Zealand are on the brink.

Only 34.3 overs were possible tonight, despite the presence of competition heavyweights England and South Africa. Rain? Not so much. What South Africa served up was a display of bungling incompetence which left their captain Volvaardt white of face, tight of lip, and unable to see any humour whatever in the situation. England had chosen a triple-spin attack of Smith, Ecclestone and Dean, with Capsey in reserve if required; plus Bell and Sciver-Brunt for seam. Smith opened the bowling and was taken off after four overs. Her figures of 3/7 earned her a Player of the Match trophy. She caught the captain from a teasing drifter, and bowled Brits and Kapp, the Proteas’ three gun batsmen.

The rest, dismayed, subsided meekly save for the keeper Jafta, ninth out for 22. Nobody else managed double figures. You would think this had been a raging turner. As in Colombo last night, it really wasn’t, as shown by the ease with which Jones and Beaumont knocked off the runs. Rarely has an ODI been so one-sided, or finished so early. Asked afterwards what her secret might be, Smith’s response said it all. ‘Attack the stumps’. Cricket can be a simple game. England bowled exceptionally well on a pitch which offered only the most modest of help. And South Africa lost their way in a calamitous fashion. One imagines that Annerie Dercksen – inexplicably omitted tonight – will return to the side. The rest: back to the nets and practise waiting for the ball to come to you.

This column opined, after the disastrous Test series against Australia, that it was time for a female coach for England. Charlotte Edwards is now at the helm, and the team looks refreshed and ready for anything.

Thus Ernest Bramah, an enterprising purveyor of Edwardiana. The Kai Lung books have little to do with any version of China recognisable by historians, but he did have a fine turn of phrase. It seemed an apposite description of tonight’s match in Colombo. Pakistan won the toss on a good wicket and batted. Their opponents? Bangla Desh, who are only at this World Cup at all after narrowly defeating the once mighty West Indies in the qualifying rounds. If Pakistan expected an easy win they were in for a rude awakening.  Marufa Akter is the Bangla side’s only seamer. But her opening over rattled through Omaima and Sidra. 2/2 was hardly the start they had expected. Marufa swung the new ball at a good pace and demanded exaggerated respect.

The remainder of the Bangla attack was spin, spin, and yet more spin. Their five-fold battery tied up the Pakistani batsmen into Turks’ head knots. They had no answers, and were bowled out in the 39th over for a pitiable 129. All the spinners took wickets, and Shorna Akter finished with the absurd figures of 3/5. The much-decorated Diana Baig, batting at no.9, was left unbeaten and untroubled on 16. Not for the first time, she must wonder why she is not sent in earlier. During Diana’s opening spell the target of 130 looked a long way off. She is a multi-talented athlete who has also represented Pakistan at soccer, and has carried their attack for more years than she probably cares to remember. Five overs in the power-play yielded her figures of 1/2. Most of the dot balls were from plays and misses. Had she beaten the bat any more often she could justly have demanded forfeits from the hapless batsmen.

Fatima Sana beat the bat almost as often. And yet the Bangla women stood their ground and refused to throw their hands away as Pakistan had done. Their batting has long been fragile, and relies heavily on their captain Nigar Sultana Joty. When Joty came out at no.4 she took her time to play herself in. She also took time out to reassure her partner Rubya Haider Jhilik, who had batted through from the outset and clung to the crease like a short-sighted limpet. The substance of their talks was self-evident. No, this is not Galle, where the ball turns square. Let’s take these spinners on now, and belt them out of the attack. And they did, forcing the recall of Diana and Fatima. Fatima accounted for Joty, but the game was gone by then. Victory was achieved with nineteen overs and seven wickets to spare, with Jhilik unbeaten on 54. Minnows in world cricket, are we? We’ll see about that.

Matters got underway yesterday when the home side took on their co-hosts Sri Lanka in the distant north. Reduced to six down for not very much, India faced embarrassment. But dropped catches lose matches, and there were plenty thereafter. It ended up a comfortable victory for India, largely through the all-round efforts of Deepti Sharma. In Madhya Pradesh – home apparently to female revolutionaries in the legendary past – Australia (reigning champions) took on New Zealand (reigning T20 champions). After the briefest of looks at the pitch of baked mud, the lightning outfield and some shortish boundaries, Healy wasted no time in deciding to bat.

It looked a 300 pitch, at the very least; but so effortlessly did Australia commence that they reached 1/81 at the end of the power play. The sole casualty was Healy, who lost patience after a thoughtful 19 and holed out to cover point from Illing: a promising left-arm swing bowler. The bulk of the runs were achieved by Litchfield, who raced to 45 from 30 without noticeably incommoding herself. She was granted a goodly serving of half-volleys, and wasted none of them. Who’re you gonna call? Why, Amelia Kerr, naturally. Who else? Her first delivery was a googly to Litchfield, who played all over it and lost her off-stump.

Thereafter Mooney and Perry played Kerr and Tahuhu with circumspection. On 29 Perry edged a flighted leg-spinner just past Gaze’s gloves. Not only did the stumper fail to catch it, the ball disappeared to the boundary. Then, feeling she should be getting on with things, Perry attempted a lofted swipe and hit it straight to Suzie Bates at mid-off. Sutherland whacked Kerr for a boundary, and three balls later hit one straight to Bates again. At 4/114 Australia were on the brink of a crevasse. It is a pitch for circumspection after all, it would seem. There is no pace in it, and attempting to force the ball is a recipe for mishap.

It was a lesson Mooney failed to embrace, and she lofted a slower ball from Tahuhu straight to Kerr at mid-off. With half the side back in the shed, it was time for a drastic reappraisal. McGrath struggled to 26 before tamely chipping Tahuhu to Kerr at mid-wicket. By this point the battle-scarred seamer had 3/20 (from 5 overs) on a pitch offering her very little. By varying her pace and trajectory she confounded the women in yellow. All save Gardner, who had adapted to the pitch by waiting for the ball and watching it right onto her bat. She hammered a six during an over of carnage from Amelia Kerr and dashed past her half-century.

Sophie Molineux has rarely batted as low as no.8.  She has battled injuries that would have seen anyone else take the hint and retire. Molineux is hardly the retiring type. She got off the mark with a crisp boundary and a six which just cleared the despairing fielder, and settled in to give Gardner needful support. Alas, she too joined the ranks of the terminally impatient and holed out to long-on from the perspiring Jess Kerr. At this point Australia had reached 7/239, with Gardner on 77 from 57. Her thoughts can only be conjectured. Yes, we can still make 300. But not if we get bowled out. Will somebody please think about staying with me?

As it transpired Australia was bowled out. But not until the final over, and with a score of 326. So well did Kim Garth bat at no.9 that Gardner was able to complete a brilliant century. Garth made a run-a-ball 38, largely through waiting for the ball to arrive instead of seeking it out with hammers and bludgeons. For New Zealand the Kerr sisters shared five wickets. Tahuhu got her three, and Suzie Bates took four catches in the field. Both sides showed signs of rust. Yet the day was Gardner’s. Her 115 from 83 showed what could be accomplished. With dew incoming, you felt 326 was no more than par.

Australia began with Garth’s bustling mediums and Molineux’s crafty left-arm spin, and the Kiwis were at once in dire straits. Plimmer run-out for a diamond duck, and Bates flummoxed by Molineux and losing her stumps. Two down for nothing? The veterans Devine and Kerr stabilised matters until drinks, taken at 2/62 from 16. Brown had erred in length and been punished, but King’s two overs had gone for just a single and two leg-byes. Something would have to be done, with the required rate creeping inexorably towards eight an over.

Just to make life harder, Gardner came on with her quickish off-breaks and kept the brakes firmly on. Kerr drove impulsively at a flighted leg-break from King and lofted it straight to Litchfield at extra cover. The expected dew having failed to materialise, and with the pitch starting to keep low, Halliday’s struggles were terrible to behold. When the asking rate reached ten she launched King for a six and a four, and followed up by picking out Litchfield on the leg boundary. Devine meanwhile had troubles of her own. She had managed a scratchy fifty without really managing to tee off. She finally got hold of the niggling line and length of Garth; and at drinks New Zealand were 4/146, still needing ten an over, with Devine on 70. If she could somehow break the chains, then her team still clung to the merest whisper of a chance.

After a brisk 20 Maddy Green managed to run herself out, having set off for a sharp single. Whether she called, or merely set out on her doom-laden quest mute of purpose, we are unable to tell. Devine was ball-watching and remained tragically oblivious to the unfolding disaster. Shrugging all this off, she greeted the return of Brown with four successive boundaries and roared into the nineties. Isabella Gaze joyfully hopped into some loose offerings from Brown and Gardner and the flame of hope refused to depart. Yet Molineux put an end to Gaze’s shenanigans and the end was nigh. Devine reached her century with a pair of sixes from Gardner, but Sutherland – who had kept her head and bowled into the pitch with slower balls – put an end to her mighty resistance. The rest was silence, as Sutherland and Molineux swept aside the remainder. Both had bowled brilliantly, adjusting to the idiosyncrasies of a pitch which contained more mischief than was at first apparent.

Australia won because of their greater depth. Depth is what wins World Cups. Australia has won seven of them. The rest of the world is still improving. So are the Australians.

The two Josephs took up where they left off the night before. From the moment Green shouldered arms and was pinned in front, the pace pair were in their element. Australia’s tail was simply blown away. 121 all out left the visitors with a lead of 204. Would this be enough? Time would answer that question all too soon. But praise is due in full measure to the intrepid pair. Alzarri took 5/27, Shamarr 4/34, and Australia’s innings had lasted a mere 37 overs. Would their batsmen back them up?

Alas, the answer was an emphatic no. Starc’s first over included three wickets: Campbell caught at second slip first ball, followed by Anderson trapped in front on the fifth, and King clean-bowled on the last. At three down for no runs the target now looked impossibly distant. Starc’s wicked inswingers were largely responsible for the carnage. The home side appeared hypnotised. They did not move their feet to any purpose. A half-hearted shuffle across the crease does not meet the needs of the situation in any way. The grinning left-arm quick took five wickets in his first 15 deliveries.

When Hazlewood had Chase caught behind by Inglis (substituting for the injured Carey) West Indies were 6/11, and beyond redemption. In a way, the best was yet to come. Scott Boland at first change broke through the seventh-wicket stand of 15 when he squared Greaves up and induced an edge to second slip. Greaves’ 11 was the innings top score. The next best was Mr Extras, with 6. On the next ball Shamarr was trapped leg before. Then Warrican was clean-bowled, completing Boland’s hat-trick. Starc concluded proceedings when he clean-bowled Seales. His final figures were 6/9. Boland took 3/2. And West Indies had succumbed for 27.

Roston Chase afterwards had no excuses. He used terms like ‘heartbreaking’ and ’embarrassing’, which was no more than the bedrock truth. Yes, the pitch was spiteful, and the bowling sublime. But this was a hideous capitulation from a side whose pride has been humbled in the dust. How they will fare in future is anyone’s guess. India awaits in October. We wish them luck. They will need it.

Meanwhile at Lords, India and England took time out from their mutual sledging, recriminations and juvenile nonsense to turn on one of Test cricket’s epic finishes. By lunch India were eight down and eighty-odd runs short of victory. The miraculously reborn Archer and Stokes were sending down deadly thunderbolts and India had succumbed ingloriously. Yet Ravi Jadeja and Jasprit Bumrah had other ideas. For almost two hours they defied everything England could hurl at them. When Bumrah finally succumbed to a waft at a bouncer, the extra half-hour before tea would need to be invoked. And still Jaddu fought on, with the inept but brave Siraj holding the fort with him. The margin shrank, and dwindled. The capacity crowd held their breath as 80 became 60, then 40, then 20-something.

It took a cruel play-on from the spinner Bashir to break the last defences. England erupted with jubilation. Jaddu crouched on the field, inconsolable. Yet half the England side came to commiserate and congratulate, echoing Flintoff to Brett Lee twenty years gone by. Jadeja has made many Test centuries, yet his unbeaten 61 here may have been his finest hour as a batsman. It had been a superb innings, occupying four and a half hours’ worth of watchful defence, furious but considered strokeplay, and cool judgement in refusing singles until late in the over. It was good to see the English players cast aside their juvenilia to pay worthy tribute to a mighty warrior.

As Australia’s sole First Nations (male) Test cricketer at the present time, Boland has had a rough time of it. His appearances are few and far between. In any other era he would have been picked far more often; but when Starc, Cummins and Hazlewood are ahead of you in the queue, it is a matter of They Also Serve Who Only Stand And Wait; until one is injured or resting, or – in this case – Lyon’s spin is judged surplus to requirements. Boland never complains. When his chance arrives, he applies himself to the task, and delivers. He is 36 years old, and has a bowling average well under 20. His strike rate is under 40.

Not that his performance was flawless. There was a minor outbreak of front-foot no-balls. That aside, he trundled in, seamed the ball both ways, varied his pace skilfully, and was perennially at the striker. He took the honours last night with 3/34. His first scalp was John Campbell, who alone of the home batsmen had combined resolute defence with aggressive stroke-play. Yet for inscrutable reasons the no.4 offered his pad when bat would have been more appropriate.

Australia’s five-man seam attack shared the wickets. For the West Indies, none aside from Campbell and the captain showed any disposition to fight it out. Mykyle Louis will not want to see the replay of his wild, ineffectual hoick which missed the ball by the width of a barn door. For the visitors, their bowlers were relentless. The fielding was mostly excellent: Konstas’ run-out of Greaves being a highlight. The most glaring error was when Greaves edged Starc straight to first slip. Carey launched himself in front of Khawaja and spilled the catch. But in the event it did not signify.

With a priceless lead of 82 on this difficult wicket, what would Australia do in the evening session. Surely not a repeat of yesterday’s kamikaze session? As it turned out, yes: it was to be just that. The Josephs came out breathing fire and brimstone, inducing a timid prod to gully from the hapless Konstas, opening a chasm between bat and pad from Khawaja, and a similar breach in Smith’s defences. At 3/28 it was down to Head and Green to steady the innings. The latter made two attempts to run himmself out, but failed on both occasions. Head meanwhile made a quick 16 before being taken in low down slips off Greaves. Four down? Time to defend? Webster off-drove his first ball to the boundary.

Webster then fell to Alzarri’s Cummins Special: the leg-cutter delivered from wide on the crease. Carey’s first ball took him in the helmet. He essayed a wild slog at the next but one and edged to slip. Meanwhile Green had recovered his composure. He and Cummins managed to hold out until stumps, though the latter is fortunate is have survived. Early on he gloved Alzarri to the keeper, but the appeal was half-hearted, and they failed to review it. Then Green did his best to run his partner out, again missing narrowly. Cummins edged the day’s final delivery just in front of the diving short leg.

At 6/99 Australia has a slight advantage, and for that they can thank Green, who kept his head – aside from alarums and excursions running between wickets – when all about had lost theirs. His unbeaten 42 has been worth a century under more normal circumstances. The Caribbean bowlers were outstanding: none more so than Alzarri Joseph. His 3/19 is no more, and perhaps less, than his due. This is a spiteful wicket, but run-scoring is still possible, as Green has shown. His promotion to no.3 has been the subject of scepticism; but the coach was adamant that this was the right choice. McDonald’s judgement has been vindicated.

Traditionally, most captains call Heads when it’s their turn. Cummins is no exception, and once again the coin turned up trumps for him. And so Australia decided to bat. It makes sense. When batting gets really hard under lights, you hope that your batsmen are well in and seeing it like a football. Yet even under bright sunlight the pink ball swung alarmingly for Seales and Shamarr. Konstas and Khawaja left most deliveries alone. Indeed bat on ball was a rarity: either the ball swung so far that no stroke was necessary; or else the bat was well beaten. Konstas had an early life when Seales induced his outside edge. The ball was heading straight for second slip, whose hands were cocked ready to receive it. In an excess of enthusiasm the debutant Kevlon Anderson (third slip) dived across in front and spilled the catch. Seales’ thunderstruck expression said everything. Oh no. Not again.

After 22 deliveries looking more at sea than a tea-clipper under full sail, Konstas was greeted by Alzarri with a shortish ball on his body.  He whacked it gratefully behind square to the boundary and relaxed a trifle. By playing with a vertical bat he held the fort until Greaves’ first delivery trapped him in front. By leaning across towards off-stump this had become an inherent risk. But his 17 was at least a better effort than his previous attempts. Green came, whacked a boundary immdiately, survived a leg-before on review, and made it safely to the break thereafter. At 1/50 Australia would have felt comfortable enough.

Khawaja’s idiosyncratic technique can be confounded by uneven bounce. While this surface has plenty for the bowlers, the ball comes through at a predictable height. He knows his game thoroughly, and negotiated his way through the session without undue drama. It took a late away-swinger from Shamarr, and an excellent low catch from Hope, to dismiss him. His 23 had occupied 92 deliveries, and one might say he’d accomplished his mission. Smith emerged and set about the attack at once. To Greaves he parked both pads in front of his stumps and dared the bowler to pitch straight. Greaves was bullied out of the attack with a flurry of boundaries. Green meanwhile had been watchful, yet he pounced on anything overpitched. The pair brought up their fifty partnership before Seales bowled Green (46 off 108) with a brutal off-cutter.

With the terrors of the twilight session approaching Head joined Smith. At the dinner break Australia was 3/138 with much to ponder. They have omitted Lyon for Scott Boland, yet the home side had brought in Warrican. On day one the ball is already turning appreciably for him, and for Chase. Thereafter, the Australian plan was made manifest. We picked five seamers because we intend to bowl tonight. In 18 overs they lost 7/87. Batting was far from easy. Smith was pouched at slip by King for an excellent 48. Head – the batsman of the series so far – struggled horribly, missing more often than he hit. Carey and Cummins made blitzkrieg twenties in T20 mode. Despite the absence of Alzarri through injury, Shamarr, Greaves and Seales shared all ten wickets between them, bowling with fire and menace. Was 225 all out a decent score under the circumstances? Who even knew?

West Indies’ baptism under lights was if anything an anticlimax. Only nine overs were possible, for the wicket of the misfortunate debutant Kevlon Anderson, bowled by Starc’s inswinger through the gate. If he needs any comfort, many others have fallen before him in like manner. And the guitar-wielding statue in the outer? We imagined him playing and singing One Love. After the distasteful scenes at Lords last night, it is a fine thing indeed to see cricket played in a proper spirit. Players and fans alike showing mutual respect and even affection. Yes, we play the game hard and ruthless. But there is no call for tantrums. None has been sighted today. And hurrah for that.

Back in the glory days of Caribbean cricket, their matchless pace attack used to opine that it did not matter how many runs their batsmen managed to get. Whatever the eventual tally, they backed themselves to dismiss the opposition for fewer and deliver victory. They were rarely mistaken. Talk to those with bad memories and they will speak of rearing bouncers, throat music, and Michael Holding’s memorable remark: ‘If you want to drive, then hire a car.’

Yet the secret to their years of unbroken victory was relentless line, length and the ability to extract seam movement and steepling bounce from the most somnolent of pitches. Australia’s veteran seamers were but a twinkle in their parents’ eyes back then, but they have absorbed the lessons of the Eighties and Nineties comprehensively. With one conspicuous exception, inasmuch as Lloyd, Richards and Richardson regarded spin bowling as a mere indulgence. Cummins knows better, having in his armoury one of the all-time greats in Nathan Lyon.

So it was that Australia triumphed today without fuss or trouble, despite losing their last three wickets cheaply to the combined fury of the Josephs. In the shortened pre-lunch session, Cummins’ men set to work on the home team’s top order. So well did they bowl that despite two uncharacteristic lapses in the slips from Webster and Green, they went to the break with the West Indies at 4/33. Hazlewood, Starc, Webster and Cummins each took a wicket, the lattermost of which sent off Brandon King wondering what on earth had just happened.

King had sent three half-volleys to the boundary and looked in sparkling touch, but Cummins’ unearthly genius undid him. It would have undone just about anyone. He must have noted that Cummins delivered from a little wider on the crease, and deduced that this will be the deadly off-cutter aimed at middle and leg. Very well: I shall cover it with bat, pads, and aquiline vigilance. The off-break shall not pass. Alas for King: it was the full-pitched leg-cutter which did just enough to take the off bail. One cannot prepare for deliveries like that.

There was an air of impermanence about the batting after lunch. Hope will not be proud of his rustic hoick at Hazlewood, resulting in yet another caught and bowled. Chase’s innings of 34 from 41 was meritorious, scoring at every safe opportunity; and he was misfortunate enough to succumb to a very marginal leg before from Starc. Greaves perished likewise. Umpire’s call has not been kind to the home side of late. Alzarri Joseph began his innings with two mighty sixes from Lyon. Undeterred, the off-spinner continued to give the ball air and drift, and Alzarri obligingly miscued to Green in the deep. Three more colossal sixes from Shamarr, and one from Seales, punctuated the regular backbeat of outfield catches. Lyon continued to tempt, and the tailenders obliged. His figures of 3/42 from five and a half overs will not have concerned him or his captain in the slightest. Do, please, go on swiping. You will not be here for long.

And they were not. Yes, Australia bowled magnificently on a helpful wicket. Yet to be bowled out in little more than thirty overs, yet again, does speak of a want of patience from the West Indies. It is too easy to blame white ball cricket. Part of the problem is that despite their own excellent seam attack, most of the first-class cricket hereabouts is played on spin-friendly wickets. Their batsmen need more practice against quick bowling. They could do worse, moreover, than to study Steve Smith. His ten thousand Test runs have not been the result of a bizarre and long-running accident. His 71 in the second innings was the chief difference between the sides. His ever-shifting batting technique is based on his matchless battle computers. How are these men trying to dismiss me? What small changes can I make to frustrate them?

And so, despite Australia’s horror run against the new ball in this series, their all-conquering bowlers saw them safely home. What Sabina Park will show on the weekend is anyone’s guess. But the prospect of a pink ball Test match, with two high-quality seam attacks, would seem to indicate that reserving seats for the fourth and fifth days would be an exercise in incurable optimism. A notable festive moment was observed in the outer this morning. A substantial banner was held aloft, proclaiming to an unguessable Kate that tonight is bin night. Really? We hope that Kate is tolerant and forgiving enough to smile, put out the bins, and hope that her beloved is enjoying his holiday.

Only 58 overs were able to be completed today. Partly because of intermittent rain, which visited the ground and hovered nearby like a dinner guest who cannot quite bring themself to leave the party once and for all. And there were rainbows. The West Indies over rate was diabolical, even so, and even by the lax standards of the present day. The five-man seam attack (with a bare five overs of spin from the captain) is partly to blame; but really: is it too much to ask that fielding sides get on with the game? If the plan was to bore Steve Smith out, it didn’t work. I don’t believe the man ever gets bored.

West Indies began untidily with the ball. There was far too little in Damien Fleming’s Avenue of Apprehension, and when the bowlers did pitch up and aim at the stumps, it was generally a half-volley. It took quite a time before Alzarri collected the nightwatchman. Smith seemed grateful for the extra sleep-in and came out utterly untroubled by his broken finger, or indeed anything else. And Cameron Green at last repaid the selectors’ faith in him as our number three with a most accomplished half-century. By the time he was out (played on off his diagonal bat, as usual, from Shamarr) the lead was 150 and Australia breathed easier.

Travis Head stroked his first delivery through mid-off for four. He reached thirty-odd at a run a ball, but after a brief flurry of wickets after tea (Smith for 71, and Webster straight after) he was more circumspect thereafter. Chase raised many eyebrows with his choice of Greaves’ mediums after the tea break. It turned out a stroke of inspiration. Greaves attacked the stumps and was the beneficiary of some sprightly seam movement. Head then lost his stumps to the indefatigable Shamarr, and bad light put an end to proceedings shortly after. Australia resumes tomorrow on 7/221. The lead is past 250, and the pitch is still playing a few tricks. Carey already has a run-a-ball 26. And Cummins looked his usual defiant self. The home side will want early wickets tomorrow.