Lords: The Wash Up

It’s probably delusional to think that we were right in this game up to that LBW referral, but I think it’s fair to suggest that things would have been at least slightly different if it hadn’t been made.

The Rogers LBW would have been referred, Hughes wouldn’t have come to the crease when he did and mightn’t have gone as quickly as he did and things might, possibly, have been different. We would, just after lunch, have been One-for with two referrals in hand.

As it was, shortly after lunch we were three-for, with none, and that, I think was where things moved out of the challenge and response ebb and flow of a competitive game and the tide started running heavily in one direction.

It’s probably even more delusional to suggest things might become more competitive at Old Trafford, but if they do it’ll be down to the batsmen getting something resembling their collective act together.

There’s not a lot of chopping and changing that can be done at the moment. The only spare batsman on hand is Cowan, and with the A Team in roughly the same time zone in South Africa there might be someone who sticks his hand up and says Hey, pick me. That may or may not be Warner, but it doesn’t alter a fairly straightforward situation in the here and now.

The batting resources are the six from Lords plus Cowan, and the only one who’s safe is Clarke, and that safety only lasts as long as his back does.

Becoming competitive, on the other hand, will require batting time and accumulating runs, so anyone who can do that is giving himself the best chance of holding down a place in the medium to long term, so let’s look at the candidates one by one.

Rogers, in two games, hasn’t done a lot with the bat but can stay for Old Trafford and possibly beyond since he’s out to prove (or should be out to prove) he’s a prospect for the Australian summer rather than a bloke who’s been drafted in to plug a weakness because he’s experienced in English conditions.

Khawaja has, IMHO, the rest of the series to establish that he has what it takes at Test level. It’s not as if he’s going to be facing a bunch of pie chuckers. England are out to knock us over, and they’re not going to be doing anyone any favours, so if Khawaja can stick there and score runs he’s there for the medium to long term.If he doesn’t he’s got the early part of the Shield season to make a case for retaining his place.

You can say the same thing as far as Hughes is concerned. There has been plenty of criticism of his technique, and it’ll be under the microscope for the rest of the series. If it comes through he stays. If it doesn’t, he’s got to perform at Shield level early in the domestic season.

Smith is a slightly different case since he can bowl. He might not be a front line bowler at the moment, but you can possibly class him as a batting all-rounder. If he does a bit with the bat and can continue picking up the odd wicket he might be useful.

Then, of course, there’s the difficult question of Watson. That’s only a difficult question because he’s been allowed to dictate his own fate for a little too long. You might want to question a little in that last statement, but it’s fairly clear that if he holds his place opening, one more LBW for not many without a substantial score between now and when it comes will see him out of the opening role, at which point he’ll start making pronouncements about being needed to bowl.

There’s a fairly obvious case for Cowan to take his place, though if he does, I doubt the Watson ego would handle a spot lower down the batting order and it becomes a case of who gets dropped to allow a bloke who’s promised far more with the bat than he’s actually delivered.

Look below Haddin at Seven and it’s fairly obvious we’ve got a useful tail, but selections there are going to depend on fitness, so you can leave that side of the equation to a case of Agar at Eight and we’ll see how things look from there.

If Agar were to come on a little more with the bat you could make a case, what with the lower order consistently pitching in with runs and all, for shifting him up to Seven, playing an extra bowler (Lyon?) and we wouldn’t be needing Watto at all.

That, however, is a little bit premature right at this point in time, though it may well be an option at some point in the future.

There’s a county game between now and Old Trafford, and you’d reckon (or at least I would) that everyone will get a bat there (except, possibly, Clarke) with Lyon, Bird and Faulkner getting a trundle.

Anyway, that’s the way it looks after the morning walk and a glance at a score card that revealed an LBW 20 to Watson, fifties to Khawaja and Clarke and runs at the end to Pattinson. One notes we were 3-36, got a partnership between Khawaja and Clarke, lost three quick wickets and had Haddin and the tail add 99 for the last four wickets.

Seems to be about par for the course, really, so it’s a matter of seeing whether anyone in the first six can put his hand up and claim a place in the long term picture.

Between the time I set out for the walk and the time I got home, this rather interesting article (The rotting of Australian cricket) appeared on Cricinfo, raising the regular issue of the decline of the Shield competition as an avenue that produces quality batsmen.

It may be, rather than chopping and changing in quick succession, a case of giving the Khawajas, Smiths and whoever else is drafted in to the Test side an extended run at Test level, because if there’s anything there at all it’s more likely to be developed in the furnace of Test cricket than it is at the domestic level.

The astute reader will, of course, have noted the names of Khawaja and Smith rather than Watson, Hughes, Rogers and Cowan in the previous paragraph. One or more of those four may well have a part to play in the short to medium term, but a successful side in the long term will be built around the next generation of bats who won’t, as far as things look at present, be mastering their trade on (in the words of that Cricinfo article):

sporting or worse surfaces, as state teams chase the outright results required to reach the Shield final ... a litany of low-scoring matches and bowlers celebrating far more often than they did during the relatively run-laden 1990s.

Anyway, that's the way it looked on the walk this morning, and Mr Brettig's article offered a degree of confirmation...

Lords Day 2

There are times when it would definitely be interesting to be a fly on the wall.

Take the report here that contains this little quote re. Siddle’s no ball non-dismissal of Bairstow:

Australian cricket coach Darren Lehmann was furious that Siddle's carelessness - for at least the third time - cost the team so dearly on the opening day of the Lord's Test, berating him in the changeroom at tea.

If there’s any justice in the world, Watson and Rogers should have received a blast that would have left the walls in the change room in need of a repaint. According to this report the whole team got read the riot act, but, for good or ill, it was the Watson referral that set things up so the wheels could fall off the vehicle.

You can read the details of the rest of the debacle as we lost 10-86 here but these things are always about momentum, ad once you’re in a tail spin there’s usually no way out.

Consider the possibilities if the Watson decision hadn’t been referred.

First, any blast that was delivered to both batsmen during the lunch break wouldn’t have happened. I’m not sure whether anything that was actually said behind closed doors affected Rogers’ failure to refer his dismissal, but you’d have to assume there’s a sequential  equation that reads something like:

No Watson referral = No lunchtime blast = Rogers refers the full toss LBW = Referral upheld = Still two referrals left = Score line still reads 1-50 = Hughes does not arrive at the crease = No referral to his dismissal, which left us at 3-53.

More significantly, at 1-50 we might just have had Rogers and Khawaja batting to secure their long term places in the side. That’s not to say they would have succeeded, but the possibility would have been there.

It might have meant the same sort of scenario for Hughes when he eventually arrived at the crease, a change to cement the slot at Four that might allow Clarke to bat in his preferred spot at Five.

There’s a school of thought going around that suggests the problem is that we can’t actually bat, and the evidence for the proposition is reasonably strong as far as the stats go. We’ve picked a side on potential, but they’ve got to be judged by results and at the moment the results are dismal.

There is, however, a hint of a way out at the end of that Cricinfo article cited above. Lehmann on Bell, the man with centuries in three successive Ashes Tests:

"He just stays within his limitations doesn't he," Lehmann said. "That's Test matching batting at its best."

Since we’ve come to the point where players are starting to be dropped because of poor form, it might be time to drop the bloke whose frequent waste of referrals denies others the chance to use the things, if necessary, to prolong their own stay at the crease.

Speaking of points arrived at, we’ve got to a significant one as far as day by day updates at The LHoC Sports Desk are concerned. With nine days to go until we head off to Townsville to collect visitors from Japan there’s a swag of work that needs to be done around the yard, and I’m disinclined to devote the whole of the morning walk and the hour and a half thereafter to a lengthy analysis of what’s gone down in the Test arena. I do have other projects that need time devoted to them.

Sunday morning is an opportunity for two to two-and-a-half hours in the garden, so a lengthy analysis of tonight’s play, which may well wrap up proceedings at Lords (granted, things may go into Day Four, but the result has already become as close to definite as you’re going to get) may not be forthcoming on the morrow.

Monday? Who knows? There’ll probably need to be another hour and a half outside, so I don’t like the chances.

The visitors’ stay will take us through Old Trafford, and the associated social itinerary will mean limited opportunities for late night viewing, and I’m disinclined to risk the possibility of offending polite people by cursing and throwing things at TV sets, so the viewing will be further curtailed, to the point where it might not happen at all.

Silence at this end, in other words, can’t be totally interpreted as a dummy spit, though I must admit, visitors or no visitors, the pacifier is rather delicately poised at the moment.

Lords Day 1

I’ve been banging on for a while about the need for Australia’s batsmen to work on their bowling a bit, and Michael Clarke’s decision to hand the ball to Steve Smith at the start of the 76th over might just suggest there’s something in that suggestion.

Clarke’s not afraid to try things, and is equally disinclined to persevere with something that’s not working, which would tend to explain the decision to hand the ball to Watson for the fifth over, a decision that was rewarded with the wicket of Cook, who, interestingly, walked where certain other individuals may have been tempted to linger and discuss a referral.

That suggests a reasonably hard-nosed attitude and a fair aptitude for assessing the chance of success.

I’d been inclined to favour Bird over Harris as the replacement for Starc, but the man they call Rhino definitely delivered. Two early wickets (Root and Pietersen) and the one that broke a 99-run partnership is a fair return for twenty economical overs. The question, of course, is how long you can keep him going, and the question of who to bowl if he breaks down comes into the equation as well.

That, of course, is one of the reasons for the everybody should be able to roll their arm over and send down something reasonable proposition.

With half the side used yesterday it’s also interesting that Pattinson’s eighteen overs were the least impressive contribution with the ball, though one notes the peculiar conditions that apply when you’re bowling at Lords.

For the uninitiated there’s an eight foot drop in height from one square boundary to the other, so the ground has the sort of built in slope that would long since have disappeared in a renovation/reconstruction project anywhere other than the fabled home of cricket.

Pattinson was wayward early, which accounted for Watson’s introduction to the crease. His twelve overs were about where you’d want them on a day when the workload was shared fairly evenly among the main quicks. I’ve always held that one of the benefits of Bowling Watto’s presence in the side is the fact that he saved the other blokes from overwork without any significant drop in aggression, pace or intensity.

Siddle and Harris did the workhorse bit fairly well, but it wasn’t a day when the attack really hit the heights after that impressive score line of 3 for 28 at the end of the sixth over.

From that point Trott and Bell fought back well (as you’d expect). Bell, in particular, has a fair degree of gritty stickability and scores at a reasonable rate as well. Trott’s in much the same mould, so while you’d like to get them cheaply you’ve got to expect fairly stiff resistance so it’s a case of keep it tight and wait for the opportunity, which arrived with a catch in the deep to dispose of Trott.

At that point, 4-127 in the thirty-fourth over, having gone to lunch at 3-80 off twenty-six, things looked to be swinging back Australia’s way, but a 144-run partnership between Bell and Bairstow had England looking good in the run down to the new ball, which is where Smith came into the action.

There’d been the regulation bit of bad luck (or whatever) back in the forty-ninth over with Bairstow bowled off what ended up being ruled a no ball after extensive forensic investigation. There wasn’t much in it, and if it hadn’t hit the stumps and attracted the umpire’s attention on the big screen as the batsman went to leave, it would probably have been counted as a perfectly legal delivery.

Back to the decision to bowl Smith.

In these circumstances, with a substantial partnership, the new ball imminent and not much longer to go, it’s the classic time to try something, and it would be handy to have a few options now that Clarke’s back seems to have taken his left arm tweakers out of the equation.

It had been Watson and Siddle, who’d just come back replacing Pattinson who might need a brief spell before taking the new ball and Clarke had been working the changes already, with short spells indicating a willingness to experiment and see what we can manage to come up with.

Handed the ball, Smith delivers four dots, concedes a four and picks up the prize scalp off the last ball, caught at slip off a perfectly pitched leggie.

Siddle bowls again, Smith gets another over, which goes for three, Siddle bowls a maiden and Smith picks up a second wicket off a full toss at the start of his third over. Bairstow pops the ball back for a caught and bowled, and Smith has his sixth Test wicket, five of which have been taken at Lords.

At that point Clarke could have taken the new ball, but with Smith doing what he was doing, why would you? While you’d prefer the bowler to land them, that wicket’s a reminder you don’t always need to.

At 6-279 Siddle delivers a maiden, Smith has another go, and it yields a four. Harris comes on preparing to take the new ball, Smith gets a third, caught behind and with Anderson in as night watchman to protect Broad it’s time to see what the new ball can do.

As it turns out, two doses of the new pill take the score on to 7-289 at stumps.

The key point here is that little cameo from Smith (6 overs, 1 maiden, 3 for 18) has things set up very nicely for the resumption tomorrow. The new pill is just two overs old, Pattinson and Harris will be fresh and if we pick up a quick wicket, at eight-for and Swann still to come, you’d have to think Broad can’t do all that much damage.

My Day One Par Score is around 6 for 320. On that basis, Australia definitely finishes the day with a nose in front with the prospect of a quick conclusion to the innings and the chance to (hopefully) bat all day to set things up...

Outlook: Definitely bullish.

Off to Lords..,

It may be delusional, but Hughesy’s expectation that we’re going to go close to retrieving the urn over the course of the next four Tests is based on an expectation that eventually we’ll work out the best way to use our existing resources, and when that happens Australia will be extremely competitive.

The process of figuring out the best way to use our existing resources is, of course, the tricky bit, and is more than likely the cause of any friction or rifts within the side. Eventually, however, we’ll sort things out to the point where we’re competitive at the very highest level, and when we do the success that should naturally follow will bring its own issues with it.

There’ll inevitably be friction in any collection of humans unless you’ve been lucky enough to assemble a group that’s absolutely committed to a common target with every individual within the group in total agreement about how the target’s supposed to be reached.

There’ll inevitably be members of the Australian side who take, shall we say, exception to the presence of others in the team, and resent the manner in which responsibilities are allocated.

Whether the Scott Muller incident was down to Joe the Cameraman or the formerly chubby Victorian leg spinner, there are always going to be players in the side who aren’t convinced that recent additions are good enough. Don’t just think Warne and Muller, go back to, say Ian Chappell and Graham Yallop and continue from there through the squads selected. You’ll find any number of other examples.

Questions regarding the leadership will invariably generate friction. Expectations and ambitions on one side will be resented, but hopefully grudgingly accepted. We’ve heard recent suggestions that Michael Hussey’s departure was hastened by issues with Michael Clarke’s captaincy, and if you cast your eye back a bit over thirty years you’ll see obvious friction between three West Australians named Kim Hughes, Rod Marsh and Dennis Lillee.

So while these things are, I think, inevitable, at some point someone makes a call and says this is how it is, fellas, and, hopefully, at that point given a decision the protagonists pull their heads in and get on with the game.

Warne may have resented Gilchrist landing the vice-captaincy but he kept on bowling, and did it rather well.

Inevitably, you’ll see examples of people who are used to getting their own way and attempt to influence decisions to make sure the trend continues.

That, of course, brings us to the question of likely changes to the starting eleven this time around as we wait to see the side for Lords. We took our time and dropped a bombshell for Trent Bridge, so while there may or may not be any bombshells for Lords, you can bet your bottom dollar that, ten or so hours out from the start with the side and the management pushing up Zs, we’ll be taking our time.

As far as I can see there are only two spots where changes are likely, and the overnight rumours suggest a Khawaja for Cowan swap is unlikely. If it doesn’t happen, either Cowan does enough to cement a spot this time or he doesn’t.

His spot, however, didn’t necessarily have to be at Three, which is where the Watto conundrum kicks in. Maybe it doesn’t quite constitute whiteanting, may or may not be a cancer on the side, and almost certainly constitutes the actions of a man who’s used to getting what he wants the decisions about where Watson bats and how much he bowls have been heavily influenced by the man and his actions.

Those decisions have, however, been made, the judge’s decision is in, no correspondence will be entered into and the choice is down to Cowan or Khawaja at Three.

The other question’s a bit more tricky, since it involves the composition of the bowling group. Based on Trent Bridge you’d have to say Agar holds his place, batting Eight and doing his share of the bowling. Siddle and Pattinson look safe (barring injury) so the final spot comes down to whether Starc stays and, if he doesn’t, who replaces him.

A bowling Watson would open up a chance for Lyon to return if it looks like the track will turn, but I’m assuming Watson’s role with the ball will constitute cameos rather than donkey work, so it’s either Bird, Faulkner or Harris (as always I try to keep these things alphabetical).

There’s a case for each of the three.

Bird, as our prospective new McGrath, would be an obvious candidate for the work horse role behind Pattinson and attack leader Siddle.

Faulkner can bat, and would be a left arm for left arm replacement, but is probably the least likely of the three prospects with the ball. Of course, having said that, name him in the side and he’ll more than likely deliver.

Harris, who is no good thing to hold down a spot for four games, but will work his guts out while he’s there.

In the end, not having seen any of the three in action on the tour I’m half inclined to go for Harris, but the question mark over the longevity means I’m more inclined to play it safe and opt for Bird.

Who knows? Typing this at ten-thirty-nine on a post-State of Origin morning, I’m more inclined to adopt a wait and see approach, Pressed to make a call. I’d go Khawaja for Cowan and Bird for Starc, but we’ll see...

This is the must win game, and winning is difficult if you’re a bowler short, which explains my preference for Bird over Harris...

And in overnight news...

I was slightly late out of the cot this morning, and a combination of a late rise, bin day and a deposit left by an incontinent cat meant I didn’t manage to get to Cricinfo before it was time to head out on the morning walk.

That’s not a problem, because a glance at the ABC News website and The Australian gave me plenty to ponder on the hour-long lap around the Catalina memorial, the Bowen Jetty and the Yacht Club.

The first of them, unsurprisingly, was the unsurprising news of Mickey Arthur’s unsurprising claim that Michael Clarke believes Shane Watson's faction is a "cancer" within the side (here and here, and undoubtedly in a myriad of other locations). The only thing that was surprising was the suggestion the news was leaked, and it’s a suggestion I’m inclined to give a bit of credence to since it will possibly have a detrimental effect on the sales of Mickey’s autobiography when it eventually appears.

Old news and all that...

What one hopes has happened is that these issues have been raised behind closed doors in the team environment, with the message delivered heavy on the words then, now, continuation and contract terminated.

I’ve no doubt the rift happened, but hopefully the law has been laid down, team procedures and protocols set in place, and anyone not happy with the new regime has been offered an airfare home and N.T.T.A. (Never To Tour Again) status.

Took me all of five minutes to sort that one out, though I did spend a bit more time considering team protocols and such, which was rehashing old ground, since I’ve banged on about the need for a social committee and suggested that there needs to be some sort of sergeant-at-arms fine system put in place.

After the law had been laid down, I’d have liked to see a suggested list of offences and penalties tabled, with suggestions about additions welcomed from the floor. Infringements would involve a certain number of points, with some additional penalty being imposed on whoever’s managed to accumulate the most, and a reduction in your tally if you come up with a really good sledge, chirp or whatever you want to call it.

I’d have Haddin as the sergeant-at-arms, with misdirected throws from the outfield being 10, 20 or 30 point infringements and penalties in place for a variety of serious and non-serious offences, all the way down to dressing room flatulence.

In any case, the Arthur allegations are hardly news.

More interesting, at least from where I’m sitting, is the report (here) that: The International Cricket Council has admitted there were three uncorrected umpiring errors during the Trent Bridge Test but, no doubt to the chagrin of many England commentators, the alleged Ashton Agar "stumping" wasn't one of them.

Two of the three involved Stuart Broad’s innings, and the suggestion that Broad should have been out LBW while not offering a shot underlines the need for us to get our use of the DRS sorted out. The third involved the Trott first ball LBW.

Interestingly, none of those involved our batting, which suggests additional proof the English approach to the DRS while they’re in the field is working.

The most interesting snippet came with Haddin’s suggestion (here) that a war of attrition might be the key to reducing the effectiveness of England's Ashes pace bowling spearhead James Anderson.

Anderson, of course, is their key bowler, and it makes sense to do whatever you can to force Cook to keep turning to him because the rest of the attack is being mauled. He’s the go to man, but if they go to him often enough eventually the wear and tear will wear him down. Stands to reason, doesn’t it?

Actually, the interesting part will come if and when he does break down, because at that point we might have confirmation of the fifty overs in a Test makes you more likely to break down in the next one argument that was used to justify the old rotation policy and the dropping of Pattinson and Siddle in Perth.

The over counts from Trent Bridge make for interesting reading.

Running down the order they bowled Pattinson had 51 overs (5 wickets), Starc 49 (5 wickets), Siddle 47.5 (8 wickets), Agar 42 overs for 2 and Watson 19, wicketless, but at a rather economical rate. On the England side the story is Anderson 55.5 for 10 scalps, Finn 25 overs (2 wickets), Swann 63 overs (4 wickets) and Broad 29.5 for 3. Root also bowled a couple, taking 1 for 6.

On that basis, lining up the attacks, the Australian workload looks to have been shared evenly among the quicks, thoughWatson could have bowled more, while it’s obvious England are going to lean on Anderson and Swan, which doesn’t come as a surprise.

The surprise comes with the suggestion that Swann, tipped to be a major factor on pitches apparently made to order for offies, doesn’t seem to have come through and trouble an Australian lineup that is supposed to be vulnerable to spin. Match figures of 63 overs, 14 maidens, 4 for 164 are reasonably economical, bit that strike rate of a wicket per 94.5 balls suggests that while he might take wickets he may well have to do plenty of bowling to do so.

I have a suspicion that a subpar performance on Indian decks a few months ago might say as much about what was happening in the dressing room and behind the scenes as it does about what was going on in the middle.

See Point 1 above...

After Trent Bridge: The DRS

The drizzle that’s been hanging around for the past couple of days cut the morning walk, which was going to be devoted to deliberations on the Decision Referral System, short, but that doesn’t mean I need more time to sort these things out in my own mind. In fact I had things more or less done and dusted before I turned around at the Sound Shell and headed back into town.

It’s fairly obvious when you take a look at the score card that the runs Broad scored after the incident that had everyone talking were a key component in the final margin, and when you factor in the runs Bell contributed at the other end through that seventh wicket partnership you’d have to say poor management in our approach to the DRS was one of the factors that cost us the game.

Not, by any means, the only factor, but it was a significant one. It’s something that needs to be addressed as a medium to long term issue until the current DRS regime is modified, and once it is we need to make sure we address it again.

Before we go too far with the issue, of course, we need to remind ourselves why it’s there and what we’re looking to do. Those considerations should be part of an overall reassessment of where the Australian team stands as far as umpiring is concerned.

For a start, there’s no point about going on about neutral umpires and repeating the old line about the best umpire in the world being unable to stand in an Ashes Test if he comes from England or Australia. Umpires have egos too, and it doesn’t do any harm to stroke them occasionally. You get more flies with sugar than you do with vinegar.

The other point here is that I suspect referral happy teams get an unconscious bump in the incidence of dodgy decisions because the umpire knows a referral will sort things out if he does make a mistake. That’s an unconscious thing, much like the situation when you have someone with a reputation for walking who stays put after a confident appeal.

I suspect these things end up delivering less rigour to the decision making process.

We know, of course, that the official version of the logic behind the DRS is the desire to eliminate the obvious howler, and we also know that cricket at the top level is a pretty ruthless business, so you can expect players will always be looking for an avenue through which an advantage can be gained.

Let’s stick with the official version, modified to reflect a healthy self-interest.

The DRS is there to avoid obvious howlers that end up costing us games. Obvious, innit?

There are slightly different considerations involved depending on whether you’re batting or bowling, but the key factor in the decision to refer or not to refer should be a definite No referral without consultation.

That, I think is where a fine or some other penalty comes into play. Fail to consult, lose the referral, cop the consequences. Double or triple the consequences for repeat offenders, quadruple it if their surname starts with a W.

When we’re batting there’s only one person the prospective referrer can consult, and that’s the bloke at the other end. It should be a case of batsmen who’ve been given out approach the partner, state their case and if the other bloke agrees you refer it.
So the bloke who may have feathered a snick through to the keeper goes down, reckons he didn’t hit it, the partner says I dunno, I heard something and it’s all over red rover.

If the subsequent forensic evidence suggests it shouldn’t have been referred, a penalty applies to both of them. You don’t necessarily make the penalty a financial one, you make it known that it happens, and you work it from there to ensure that there’s no suggestion that you’re referral happy and will do it at the drop of a hat.

The same basic point applies when we’re bowling, but the consultation should be between captain, keeper and bowler, with the T shape only being made when the consensus is that there’s something there.

If we have penalties for failure to follow the agreed protocol when we’re batting, there should be a reward for the bowler who gets asked about an LBW and responds that it might have been going down the leg side. Particularly when the umpire’s within earshot.

Similarly, if there’s a shout, a Not out, and no referral, a verbal check with the umpire might be interpreted as pocket-pissing, but see the above reference to flies, sugar and vinegar.

The key thing here is that you want, if at all possible, to have at least one referral, and preferably both of the little devils in hand around the eight-for and nine-for mark, at which point you can be a little more relaxed about these things, but I’d still like to see the innings end with at least one referral still in the bag, because that means whatever we’ve referred has been spot on, and we’ve probably ended up with fewer dodgy decisions anyway.

And, particularly when we’re batting, if we’re out of referrals before the eight-for mark it’d be obvious any penalties involved aren’t high enough.

Those penalties, of course, don’t have to be financial. It might be a case of assigning the individuals in question some chore that will induce a degree of banter and hilarity in the team situation.

Offenders become the designated luggage porters for the duration of the match as well as the next one, or until the next offender rolls into view.

That last bit is possibly going to be enough to ensure there isn’t another offender (or pair of ‘em) in a hurry.

Which raises an interesting thought. We have a team member designated to lead the victory song. Do we have a sergeant-at-arms, dispensing penalties for assorted offences? And, if not, why not?

Trent Bridge Day 5: The Entrails Part 1

Putting issues like walking and the Decision Review System to one side, if we can get that close playing at those levels I definitely like our chances of heading out of The Oval with the urn in hand, and if we can’t quite manage that I reckon we’re looking good to have the prize reclaimed by the end of the Australian summer.

I’m not in the business of assigning percentages to the opposition, though I’m fairly definite in saying England were playing somewhere beyond 100% back in 2005. That’s an easy call. They were playing out of their skins, far better than they, or anyone else, had a right to expect.

So I’m not sure about the level of performance from this England side in that particular Test, but I’d rate our batting somewhere between 75 and 80% and the bowling somewhere between 85 and 90. There’s room for substantial improvement with the bat and a significant lift with the ball and we still only fell 14 runs short.

Pattinson, Starc, Siddle and Agar may well be our best specialist bowling quartet, but there’s room for improvement in the lines we bowl and the percentage of deliveries we force their batsmen to play at. If Trent Bridge is a sign of the surfaces we’re going to see through the rest of the English summer we’re not going to see anything resembling bowler friendly conditions unless weather and atmospherics intervene so attack off stump, get the length right and we’re going to be a big show.

Looking at the English bowling, this particular quartet is handy, and they under bowled Broad in the first dig after he got collected in the shoulder. There may be room for improvement there, but not having seen enough of them in the past it’d difficult to judge. There’s no doubting Anderson’s class, but I think there’s a fair gap between this group and their 2005 combo, which was boosted by the Flintoff all rounder factor.

If you scratch your head and wonder why we get our knickers in a knot looking for a Botham or Flintoff, take a look at our lineup and ask yourself how good it would look with Watson assuming a fair proportion of the workload. Four overs in the first innings and fifteen in the second when his four colleagues were all in the thirties doesn’t rank as a fair proportion of the workload from where I’m sitting.

At his best he’s not far behind the best of them for pace and aggression, which is why I’ve never been happy about having him open the batting, but that, it seems, is where he’ll be staying for the foreseeable future, so there you go.

The batting is the department where there’s the most room for improvement, and the first thing I’d do is issue an edict that an unsuccessful referral will result in a thousand dollar fine. No, make that ten thousand. Let’s see an end to the speculative or opportunistic referral, and limit them to setting the absolute howlers right rather than allowing a batsman who’s made a mistake the possibility of a lifeline.

At the moment it seems to be a case of maybe I can get away with one here rather than hang on a minute, that decision was wrong.

I suspect a decline in the number of referrals will result in a decrease in the number of referable decisions, and everyone will end up benefiting.

I also believe that taking out the lifeline will make a couple of our batsmen more responsible for technical deficiencies, and in the case of unsuccessful referrals from Watson I’d double the amount of the fine (apply the same figure to Rogers if you think that’s unfair, but Watto seems like the sort of bloke who’d be likely to blow the whole allocation within the first ten overs, which, to me, is another reason I’d prefer to see him down the order.

Having whizzed Warner off to Zimbabwe and South Africa, where he’ll get more time in the middle against better attacks than an English county side resting key players will throw up, and with Khawaja as the other specialist bat in the squad, I’d have him back in the side at three.

That means a batting order that reads Rogers, Watson, Khawaja, Clarke, Smith, Hughes, Haddin, Agar, Pattinson, Siddle, Starc which is, I guess about as good as we can muster at the moment and puts Hughes and Smith under the spotlight with a chance to cement their places over the next two or three Tests, which is fair enough in my book.

Any changes in the bowling lineup would be slotted in after Starc.

That’s my take on what’s gone down at Trent Bridge, and having allowed myself the ineluctable luxury of sleeping in until nine-thirty this morning, it’s one that hasn’t been influenced by at length cogitations on the morning walk or extensive perusals of opinions expressed in the press and over on Cricinfo.

We might be taking a squiz at those tomorrow, and casting an eye forward to Lords on Wednesday and/or Thursday. Stay tuned...

Trent Bridge Day 4

To err, they say, is human. The question is, of course, what you do after the inevitable error has occurred.

Overnight developments have kept the issues relating to umpiring in what was always going to be a fiercely contested Ashes series firmly in the spotlight, and it’s reasonably certain those issues aren’t going to be disappearing any time soon.

I’ve done my share of umpiring over the years, and while I wouldn’t presume to second guess the thought processes of those who do it at the highest level, I think I’ve got a fair handle on what goes through your mind when you realise you might have made a mistake.

That little word might is the key element here. Sometimes, on further reflection, you realise that yes, you did. Other times, as you run back your mind back over it, you conclude no, everything’s cool. What you don’t want to do is dwell on the detail, that way lies madness and the likelihood of further error.

The last thing you want to do is to try to square things up. All that does is open the path to total disaster.

One thing that’s handy is to have some sort of pressure release valve, the sort of thing I used to use when I signalled byes and the batsman, aggrieved that I was doing him out of a run or two, claimed to have hit the ball.

“Fine,” was my standard reply. “If the wicket keeper had caught it I would have given it not out.”

That usually ended the complaints.

Test match umpires, of course, can’t do that sort of thing (or at least they can’t do it while anyone’s watching, and if someone was silly enough to try to do it behind closed doors he’d be asking for trouble).

It’s fair to assume that, having realised the error has been made, the first thing the umpire does is to look at ways of avoiding the possibility of a recurrence. That means (and I’m guessing this is what happened) after you’ve made an obvious mistake with a catch behind when there’s another appeal and you’ve got a distinct impression of a snick but a question mark over whether it has carried you’ll consult with your colleague at square leg who might be able to confirm whether it did.

This appears to have been the case with Clarke’s dismissal, though Pup’s subsequent squandering of the remaining referral will undoubtedly turn around to bite us on the arse some time tomorrow morning.

The umpires, for mine, will do a certain amount of self correcting, and if you leave them alone you’ve got a better chance of that ending up in your favour.

Not that it’s a conscious thing, of course. Umpires don’t (or shouldn’t) go looking for a conscious squaring up, but as the impressions flow though the decision making process I suspect there’s a certain amount of subconscious filtering that amounts to much the same thing.

Beyond that, from my understanding of things, Test match umpires can call on a theoretically infinite number of referrals, though one suspects frequent use of that possibility will raise a number of fresh issues. You want your umpires using that sort of thing as a last resort rather than a crutch.

As far as the teams’ two referrals are concerned, I think you’re actually going to get more dodgy decisions if you’re inclined to refer things at the drop of a hat.

The other issue that seemed to be coming through in the radio commentary was that, due to the situation within the ICC Umpires Panel, we’re probably looking at the two blokes out in the middle (Aleem Dar and HDPK Dharmasena) and Marais Erasmus, who’s looking after the TV side of proceedings, throughout the rest of the series.

On that basis I’m hoping the poison pens of the Pommy press are dumb enough to go on about the standard of the decision making because I suspect we’ve done enough damage to our own cause with our own apparent take on the referral system.

You trap more ants with sugar than you do with vinegar, and we’d probably be better off if we were suggesting they’re doing a fair job and not firing in an opportunistic or speculative referral whenever it seems there’s a sniff of possible advantage to be gained.

Each side has two referrals, and hot headed self preservation is likely to be counterproductive. I suspect a willingness to fire them in makes the umpire less likely to ask the colleague up in the referral centre for clarification.

In any case, the first session tomorrow will, of course, be key, as will the role of the heavy roller before play resumes. It seems the failure of the track to deteriorate as predicted owes a lot to the heavy roller, and if that’s true there’s every possibility things will be done and dusted by the time the roller’s morning ministrations have been negated.

It could, of course, be all over within ten minutes, but the aim should be to go about our business as usual, playing each ball on it merits and seeing how much pressure can be put back on the England XI.

It’s fairly obvious (at least it’s fairly obvious to me) that England aren’t as good as their public thinks they are, and Australia is definitely on the way back. I think the Day Five result will be very close, and with three days before we head into the Lords Test any momentum that’s starting to build should be able to be maintained.

Particularly if Haddin, Agar, Siddle, Pattinson and Starc can cobble together those hundred and thirty-seven runs.

Actually, the best outcome would be for the quintet to cobble them together, head off to Lords one-nil up and watch as the poison pens of the Pommy press set out on an orgy of we was robbed due to lousy umpiring, which would, IMHO, more than likely produce a continuing flow of contentious decisions with the majority of them working in our favour.

But that’ll come after what will hopefully be a very interesting two-plus hours tonight...

Trent Bridge Day 3

When I toddled off cotwards at the tea break last night things were delicately poised with England having moved on from an overnight 2-80 to 6-230, a rather sedate progress, punctuated by the wickets of Pietersen and Cook in reasonably quick succession (end of the 57th and start of the 59th overs), followed by Bairstow (80th) and Prior (93rd).

Interestingly, three of the six wickets that have fallen in the innings have gone on the last ball of the over. That doesn’t actually mean anything, but it’s one of those quirky statistics that Test cricket tends to throw up.

At that point we were, you’d have reckoned, looking reasonably good. Wickets weren’t falling in a hurry, but we were chipping away and with the lead just under two hundred you’d be looking at a reasonably achievable target.

On that basis, given the previously noted tendency for the desired result to come to pass while Hughesy’s pushing up Zs, I was half expecting to wake up to the news that England were all out and we’d set out in pursuit of a target around 250.

Instead, with four wickets still to fall and the lead having crept past 250, you’d have to say things are starting to lean towards the Poms.

On the way, however, there was one of those incidents that produces a degree of controversy, so let’s pause for a moment to consider the fact that we appear to have a fairly obvious umpiring mistake which has a number of observers getting their knickers in a twist.

I’m inclined to shrug my shoulders, point out that no one is perfect, and suggest this is the kind of thing you have to expect if you use up your referrals in speculative or opportunistic ventures rather than saving them up in case you get an obvious howler that needs to be remedied. End of story.

I would, however, take issue with a comment here that suggests the failure of batsmen to walk when they know they’re out is something that has been brought into the game by those nasty Australians.

Here’s the bit that got me:
The unwritten rule in cases like this was made in Australia. Generations of batsmen have argued that they do not walk unless given out by the umpire (and, having been given out, they do not argue). Broad was acting entirely within his rights. You could argue that Australia had been hoist by their own petard.

Piffle. One could, in contradicting the allegation, point out any number of suggestions that the likes of Gilchrist were going to be selective in walking, and, effectively, using a reputation to influence decisions, but I’d be more inclined to cite the example of the great W.G. Grace, arguably the greatest Englishman of his generation.

Grace, as it turns out, was no stranger to sharp practices with bat and ball, to the extent that, having been bowled in a charity game he refused to leave the crease, informing the bowler that the paying public had parted with their dosh to see him bat.

In another instance, having had a ball nick the stumps, he turned around, replaced the dislodged bail, and passed a remark about the strength of the breeze to the umpire at the bowler’s end.
“Yes, Mr Grace,” came the alleged reply. “Make sure it doesn’t blow your cap off on the way back to the pavilion.”

Cast your eye down the comments on the matter here and you’ll see a couple of variations on a common theme, namely that umpires make mistakes, and, in the days of neutral umpires you’d expect those mistakes to even themselves out around the fifty-fifty mark, all other things being equal.

Of course, all other things are rarely equal, so you’re not going to get too many mistakes on an absolute belter where everything’s hitting the middle of the bat. Faced with a raging turner, half a dozen close fielders around the bat and frequent appeals for bat pad catches, you’re probably going to get a number of them, particularly when you’ve got the predictable tendency to ask for anything.

And there’s the rub. Take a look at the range of comments here and you’ll find an interesting one from Peter Siddle, who starts off fairly graciously "You can't do anything about that," but goes on to talk about referrals, suggesting “You use them when you think there's a chance of getting a wicket and that's what they're there for."

Actually, they’re not. The referral system is there to fix the obvious howlers, and if you’re going to venture into opportunism and speculation you’re going to reap what you sow. An opportunistic referral at 12:50 (here) ends up costing a hell of a lot more at 5:27...

In any case, by that point the damage had already been done. Unless there’s a rapid run through the last four wickets you’d have to reckon a target in excess of 320 is likely, and while it doesn’t look like the track has started to turn at right angles (as predicted by Tuffnell back on Day One) yet, and the innings totals have been lifting as the game proceeds (215, 280, 6-326) you wouldn’t expect the tendency to continue.

Well, it won’t, will it?

Regardless of the target set, thanks to that 65 run lead on the first dig, we’re going to be looking at something less than whatever total England eventually posts but I suspect anything beyond 300 will be a tough ask.

Trent Bridge Day 2

One swallow doesn’t make a summer, one innings doesn’t create a career, and one decision doesn’t determine the outcome of a Test match.

Let’s turn our attention to that last point while everybody’s rhapsodising over Ashton Agar’s rather remarkable debut innings, shall we?

Umpiring decisions determine the direction in which things will develop, and while English supporters can complain all they like about the third umpire’s decision that allowed Agar’s innings to continue, I’ll respond with inconclusive and benefit of the doubt. The English commentators on the radio were quite outspoken about on the line being out, but I reckon there was a smidgen of doubt and the batsman’s entitled to it.

Maybe that one balanced up the Rogers LBW, which was one of the things that had landed us in that little nine-for predicament.

Predictably, there’s a degree of controversy about the Trott LBW, and rightly so, because it’s something that’s happening off the field affecting what goes down on it, but TV broadcasters have been fiddling with things to suit themselves for yonks, Hot Spot is their technology, anyway, and something like this was always likely to happen, so Murphy’s Law kicks in about here.

You know Murphy’s Law: Whatever can go wrong will go wrong, and when it does go wrong it will go wrong at the worst possible moment.

And if anyone’s going to argue about that one, I’ll have a go at the rather remarkable passage of play about half an hour into the day when the ball, which had been going gun barrel straight, started reversing.

Now, I’m not going to use the word cheating here, and I’m not necessarily suggesting the dark art of bringing reverse swing into play equates to ball tampering, but there’s something very sus about this from where I’m sitting.

Yes, Anderson and company are very good at getting the ball into the state where it will reverse, and it’s quite possible the means through which this is achieved is totally legitimate. The interesting thing, at least as far as I can see, is that this ability to reverse is a temporary thing, and it seems to be something that can be countered by affecting the state of the ball through the agencies of willow and concrete.

With Australia having lost 5 for 9 in about half an hour, the reverse seemed to remove itself from the equation. Strange.

But all that, of course, is secondary to the big issue here, and that’s the fact that Agar’s 98 and the 163 run tenth wicket partnership have set things up for an interesting Day Three.

Exactly where that goes is anyone’s guess, but I suspect that, on this track at least, chasing anything much over 150 batting last is going to be difficult. Given the current situation, where England are, effectively, 2 for 15 that would involve taking 8 for 135 in the first two sessions tonight, and if we can do that, with our batting surrounded by rather severe question marks, maybe a target of 150 will turn out to be just a tad too high.

Time will tell, as it will with young Mr Agar, who displayed a remarkable maturity in a tricky situation. He certainly doesn’t appear to have the same technical issues some of the other bats have, and for the moment I reckon he can expect an extended run batting Eight from here on.

He’ll need to deliver with the ball as well, but there’s definitely a possibility of a spin bowling all-rounder, which raises some interesting possibilities if he can show form with the ball and continue to post significant scores with the bat.

Possibly he could step up a place or two in the order, but I wouldn’t be looking any higher than Seven, possibly with Haddin at Six, in a situation where you wanted to play an extra spinner and still have three quicks because Watto doesn’t bowl much any more.

Or maybe because Watto hasn’t been able to deliver the runs consistently enough to hold his place.

Interestingly, and I’m not suggesting we’re looking at another Sobers, Imran or Hadlee, most of the great all-rounders have started as specialist bowlers whose batting has moved them up into the middle order.

Without getting ahead of ourselves, let’s wait and see how things pan out. You can predict the inevitable slump in performances as the bowling fraternity work him out and identify weaknesses and technical points that can be attacked, but he looks like someone who’ll add a welcome degree of flexibility.

As far as the rest of the day’s play goes Hughes showed a commendable degree of grit and stickability, while Smith and Haddin both had me scratching my head at the apparent abandonment of the old conventional wisdom involving the placement of the front foot and the subsequent position of the head.

That, I would suggest, m’lud, is a key issue in dealing with the ball when it’s reversing since it’ll probably close the gate between bat and pad (and quite possibly allow the adjustment that’ll get the ball hitting the middle rather than snicking the inside or outside edge).

As far as Day Three and the eventual outcome is concerned, the big question is going to involve the size of the target, and whether we can somehow cobble together more than a hundred out of the combination of Rogers (who I see as the key), Watson and Cowan, both of whom need to deliver big time in the not too distant future.

Chasing more than 150 looks to be rather tricky for this side in these conditions, but if One, Two and Three can get the total past the ton, and my suspicions about the ephemeral nature of the reverse elements is correct, anything less than, maybe, 250 may well be doable.

And, as noted yesterday, time will tell.

Trent Bridge Day 1

So, I hear you ask in your relentless quest for knowledge, what have we learned from that little lot?

The first thing we’ve learned, at least as far as The Little House of Concrete is concerned, is that Hughesy needs to hunker himself down in The Office’s comfortable chair before the first ball is bowled, with the radio tuned to the ABC commentary and the dressing gown handy in case we need a little added warmth in the wee hours. We’ve got fortifieds from Baileys of Glenrowan to warm things up on the inside, and the dressing gown will do for the exterior, particularly the legs on nights that tend, with the wind chill factor and all, to be crisp.

Expecting a time lapse between the radio call and the on screen action I was sitting at the computer last night when Madam appeared, announced she was watching the first bit and settled into the comfy chair. At one for a few more than I would have preferred and the bowling leaving a bit to be desired, I thought it was time to try Hughesy’s almost foolproof method of ensuring something happens by wandering off to bed.

This quite often produces results, but I don’t recall too many instances where the stratagem has proved quite as successful, delivering no less than thirteen wickets, but we’re getting ahead of the narrative here.

So, what did we learn?

Let’s start with the Australian team selection, particularly the decision to hand Ashton Agar his baggy green, the 434th player selected for Australia, and the twelfth youngest to get the honour. If you need to catch up on the Agar story you can do so here, but the selection suggests a degree of horses for courses in the selection stakes.

The thinking appears to involve Kevin Pietersen’s perceived weakness against left arm orthodox bowling, and comments from Lehmann (here) suggest the spinner’s spot isn’t completely cut and dried.

More particularly, with Lyon bowling offies, Agar’s left arm tweakers and Fawad Ahmed’s leggies it looks like we’ve got three reasonable cards covering the standard spin options. That could make the next tour to India rather interesting.

The other interesting selection issue is, of course, Warner. Rocketing him off to play for Australia A in Zimbabwe (there’s a four game there starting the same day as the Lords Test with the first of two unofficial Tests against South Africa A kicking off a week later) means he might be back on board later in The Ashes series, with  Old Trafford starting on August 1, the Test at Riverside (Durham) kicking off on August 9 and The Oval on August 22.

There are three day tour games against Sussex (between Lords and Old Trafford) and Northamptonshire (leading in to The Oval) so, while Warner would have been able to get some time in the middle there, with Zimbabwe and South Africa A probably guaranteeing a more competitive opposition you’d have to guess he’s still on the periphery of the picture and a chance of figuring in calculations if the existing order fails to deliver.

Then there’s the short term middle order. With Rogers, Watson and Clarke as definites, we needed three names to fill the remaining spots in the first six, and Cowan, Hughes and Smith get the nod. Two lefties and a righty to match the two righties and a lefty, which sort of opens up the right/left combination I mentioned yesterday.

As things have worked out, if Smith and Hughes can go on from here they’ll be cementing their place in the middle order for a while. How long Cowan gets at Three is going to depend on how he goes in the second dig, but if he fails there you’d figure a first ball gozzer here means he’ll have to deliver at Lords to hold Khawaja (and possibly a returning Warner) out for Old Trafford.

At this point crystal ball gazing is a dodgy practice, but you’d have to think that the first session tomorrow will be the key to the rest of the match.

Twenty-one overs into the innings reverse swing should be coming into the equation, so it’s a matter of how Smith, Hughes and Haddin handle it, and how long the tail can wag. Based on revealed form you’d have to be bullish about Siddle, Pattinson and Starc with the bat, with a question mark over Agar at Eleven.

Hughesy’s predictions tend to end up fairly wide of the mark, and a considerable distance from the money, but that’s not going to stop me making them.

Assuming we’re still batting at lunch time that should have us twenty-five to thirty runs behind, and if we’re still there at tea, you’d figure we’d be somewhere between sixty to eighty to the good. Bat on after tea and there’s a fair chance of a lead of a hundred plus, and the bigger the plus the better the chance of a win.

That, of course, is the numerical side of the equation.

From there we’ll need to knock them over for a reasonably low total. Phil Tuffnell was fairly bullish bout the likelihood of the wicket turning square, so you’d figure the more time we can bat, and the bigger the lead, the better the chance of an Australian win.

At the moment, you’d have to say England have their noses in front, but there’s not a great deal in it. I thought we didn’t bowl particularly well in the first session, and didn’t force them to play enough with the new ball. We obviously came back well, but 21 sundries (6 byes, 5 leg byes, 8 wides and 2 no balls, in case you’re interested) in a total of 215 suggest we should have bowled better.

We’d be sitting a bit more comfortably if Rogers was still there, and it’s interesting to speculate what might have happened had umpire Dharmasena given it not out. With the forensics suggesting it might have clipped leg stump, and the Decision Referral System returning an Umpire’s Call, had it been given Not Out and England referred it, things would have been very interesting indeed.

A small matter, perhaps, but games are won and lost on small matters...

Off to Trent Bridge

I think it’s fair to say that what you see depends on what you’re looking for, particularly when it comes to figuring out the significance of what’s just gone down within the line of sight.

When the Australian cricket team takes the field I’m looking for a 5-0 result from a team that’s playing at 100%. Not that I expect to see it too often when we’re playing a top rated side in their home conditions, but that’s what I’m looking for, because it probably means there’s not much that could have been done better.

On that basis, of course, Hughesy’s hardly likely to describe the 2005 Ashes series as one of the greatest ever. It’s different if you’re looking at it from a different perspective, of course, and a series that goes down to the wire will certainly keep the spectators engaged for the duration.

Closely fought series are definitely worth watching, but, unfortunately, the dialectical dynamics of sport mean they don’t occur too often.

The way I look at these things (and here I’m setting up a framework that I can use to analyse what goes down over the next six and a half weeks) fairly early on in a two team event one side gains an ascendancy and the other side responds. Sometimes they respond strongly enough to gain the ascendancy, in which case it’s up to the other side to wrest it back, and that sort of pendulum swing continues until one side is no longer capable of turning the tide, and at that point you get a blow out in the score line.

To me, the great thing about Test cricket is the fact that you’ve got five days to act out that sequence of challenge and response.

Let’s talk hypotheticals for a minute.

Based on my par score scenario (Day One, batting side on 8 for round about 300), which I see as even stevens it’s up to the bowling side to wrap things up for something in the vicinity of 350, after which they get their turn at the crease and hopefully, given a decent batting wicket and the best of the conditions, end up somewhere around 4 for 250 at the end of Day Two).

At that point we’re still level pegging at the end of the day, but you’re still going to have those pendulum swings as the batting side builds a partnership and the bowling side gets a wicket.

By the end of Day Three in this scenario, your side that batted first should be back in, attempting to reel in a deficit of around a hundred, and would hopefully have accomplished that for the loss of one or two wickets, which means they’ve got Day Four to accumulate a target and Day Five to ensure the other side doesn’t reach it.

Ideally the victory target is reached inside the last half hour of Day Five and whoever bats Eleven on the batting side is at the crease.

Things rarely fall out that way, of course, but take that scenario as a basis, repeat five times and you’re going to have a cracker of a series because even if the eventual score line reads 5-0 every game has gone the distance, and both sides have been right in it until the death.

Anyway, that’s Hughesy’s definition of a close series, and if you’re looking at a score line that reads two-all as you go into Game Five I’m willing to concede that you’re probably looking at one of the greatest series ever.

Maybe I’ve been spoiled because the first Test series I remember consciously following was that great series between Australia and the West Indies in 1960-61 that started with the Tied Test and included the nail-biting draw in Adelaide as Slasher Mackay and Lindsay Kline held out against Wes Hall and Lance Gibbs.

I don’t recall too many series over the subsequent fifty years that went close to matching it.

With back to back Ashes series kicking off tonight, somewhere during the next day or two we’ll have one side gaining the ascendancy, and, hopefully, from my point of view, it’ll be Australia.

At this point it’s time for Hughesy’s favourite metaphor when it comes to these situations. It’s like a loose set of floorboards where the nails that secure things in place keep popping their heads up, and whoever’s standing on top of them bangs them back down. Eventually the nails will either stop popping back up or they’ll all come loose and the bloke with the hammer will fall through the cracks.

When I look at 2005, I see Australia as the bloke standing on the floor after the First Test, with a whole pile of nails springing out of their nail holes on the first morning of the Second, which put England on a roll that we weren’t able to counter, though it was a very close run thing.

Given the current state of affairs you might be disinclined to make a prediction, but I think things are going to be very close, which will probably mean a 5-0 score line to the home side in six and a half weeks’ time, but I’m reasonably upbeat.

I like Lehmann as coach, and I think we’ll see a much more focussed side than we’ve seen in recent series.

I like Clarke as an innovative captain, and I suspect we’ll see something like the short midwicket Alan Border regularly set in place against Graham Gooch in 1989. That, and the suggestion that Terry Alderman bowled out-swingers, did a lot to secure a famous victory in that series.

You can see the mind games already in the decision not to announce the actual side until the morning of the game. I liked that yesterday, and I like it even more when I read articles like this one.

Back to that 1989 field placing, the short midwicket had Gooch thinking something along the lines of “What are they doing? I don’t hit the ball in the air through there. Or do I?” The uncertainty that came with Or do I? set things up so Alderman, who, remember was supposed to be swinging the ball, could regularly clean up England’s premier bat with balls that went more or less gun barrel straight.

You can expect something along these lines from Clarke through this series if comments made here are anything to go by.

I like Rogers as opener, and, according to this article he brings a little bit more than a heap of runs and current form to the side. There’s that eternal question of how the English bowler gets the Dukes ball to swing when we don’t. Rogers, interestingly, may be part of the solution to what has been a thorny problem.

And, on that basis, I like the fact that we’ve got half a dozen fully fit bowlers on tour seemingly ready to fire.

I expect Lyon to do surprisingly well, and someone out of Hughes, Khawaja, Smith and Warner to nail down a secure place in the Australian middle order for the next couple of years, and don’t dismiss Cowan or Hughes as a potential Three if either is tried in that position.

Over the next six and a half weeks there are a lot of players in the Australian side with a lot to play for and a coach who has, I think, the potential to ensure a couple of them really deliver. That might not be enough to bring back the urn after The Oval, but time will, as they say, tell.

Thirty-five hours out...

About thirty-six hours out from the first of ten Tests in back to back Ashes series, Hughesy is pretty upbeat about Australia’s chances of holding the urn by the end of the Australian summer.

Actually, I’m pretty upbeat about our chances of our having matters under control by the time we head home from The Oval, but I’m willing to concede some things take time to build.

While there’s every possibility something will roll along to upset the apple cart between now and the resumption of hostilities, recent speculation about who decides the Australian batting order and ponderings about whether Peter Siddle will be all right on the night (here) has me thinking things are shaping up rather well.

The question of who decides the batting order and the possibility of some sort of ruction between the Australian captain and the Australian coach suggests, to me at least, the journos covering the tour are in need of a story.

And since we haven’t had any members of the touring party making mugs of themselves in the course of a night on the tiles, with nothing else to write about, we get attempts to generate a storm in a teacup in the quest for column inches.

I’m willing to concede there’s the possibility of some disagreement, but it’s hard to imagine that Michael Clarke’s first sighting of the side he’s being handed will occur immediately before the toss.

The twelve will be done and dusted by now, with the most likely eleven just about set in stone. It’s just that they’re not telling anyone.

Which is fine with me, because we’re looking at a situation where any advantage, however slight, is going to be helpful. We’re actually looking at a situation where any member of the touring party except Matthew Wade and, possibly (but only possibly) Ashton Agar is likely to find themselves in the final eleven.

That means when the Poms are doing their planning they have a few more things to take into account, which delivers a slight tactical advantage. We already have a fair idea of what we’re up against, don’t we? The other side has a bit more guess work to do.

Getting back to that matter of the batting order, pause for a moment and consider the statement that the captain decides the batting order, which, of course, he does because the order in which the batsmen enter the arena is a tactical one, and tactical decisions are the captain’s realm.

I’d be betting that when Lehmann hands over the team list it’ll contain eleven names in alphabetical order and a specified twelfth man. Clarke will have a second list, which will be the suggested or likely batting order, so let’s pause for a moment and cast an eye over that little devil.

The only apparent given in the eleven is that it will feature Rogers and Watson at the top of the order, Clarke in the middle somewhere and Haddin at Six or Seven, depending on whether Faulkner is included in the eleven along with four other bowlers. Once you’ve made that call, One, Two, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten and Eleven are more or less set in stone, aren’t they?

So the only decisions that Clarke has to make will involve the blokes who slot into the scoreboard at Three, Four, Five and Six. Compris?

So let’s pause for a moment and look at the candidates. In Rogers and Watson we’ve got a left hand right hand combination, and Clarke’s a right hander. So, for that matter, in the course of these calculations, is Haddin.

Cowan, Hughes, Khawaja and Warner all bat left, Smith is the only other rightie among the specialist bats. What’s to stop Clarke and whoever gets the nod out of the first three of those lefties both padded up as the openers go out?

A left hand/right hand opening combination is held to be useful because if they’re able to rotate the strike the bowlers are going to have a little added difficulty in maintaining a consistent line and length and building pressure.

Assume, for a moment that the first four reads something like Watson, Rogers, Hughes and Clarke. Pencil in the possibility that whoever goes in at Three (which should be the best bat in the side according to the conventional wisdom) depends on who is the first bat to be dismissed. If you want to keep the left/right combination going, Hughes replaces Rogers, Clarke replaces Watson.

Might be tricky if Watson goes early, but if that’s the way you’re thinking, you’d be looking at a definite order, wouldn’t you?

AS far as the bowling goes, things are fairly open, and I suspect the actual line up will depend on the team’s assessment of the best options against the English top order. You’d reckon Pattinson and Starc are certainties, so the question becomes whether you play a spinner, with Lyon most likely, but not a certainty, to get the nod.

Assume he does, and you’re going in with four specialist bowlers, and the choice comes down to one out of Siddle, Harris, Bird and Faulkner.

In these circumstances, kicking off a series where the batting has the question mark over it, I’d have Haddin at Seven, and I’d be going with the four bowlers, so I’d be giving the nod to Siddle and telling him to expect the work horse role.

Anyway, for what it’s worth, Hughesy’s side for Trent Bridge: Watson, Rogers, Hughes, Clarke, Khawaja, Warner, Haddin, Siddle, Pattinson, Starc, Lyon, Bird (12th man).

Par score after Day One, assuming weather, atmospherics, or any devils in the pitch don’t come into play 8 for 300. More than eight wickets or less than 300, advantage to the side bowling first. Less than eight wickets advantage definitely to the batting side, though they’re level pegging if there’s more than thirteen...

And tomorrow, reflections on the dynamics of a series, and why 2005 wasn’t the wonderful series it was cracked up to be..