Anyway, he has, and bowled superbly into the bargain, so we’ll let him off for now. Let’s move on to the
Australians, who with a little more luck and perhaps a little more faith could have been in charge of this
game rather than clawing their way back into it.
Justin Langer, of course, is a data evangelist. As Perth Scorchers coach, he led them to three Big Bash titles
in four seasons with a statistical-driven approach honed by team analyst Dean Plunkett. Now, in tandem
with current team analyst Dene Hills, Langer sees data as not only a cricketing solution to Australia’s
problems, but a cultural one. “We’ve had enough emotion in Australian cricket for the past 12 months to last
us a lifetime,” he said earlier this summer. “But when it comes to games for Australia, you’ve got to take the
emotion out of it and pick the best match-ups, the best team to win that game.”
So how does that manifest itself in practice? Perhaps it’s why Tim Paine brought on Nathan Lyon to bowl at
Ben Stokes first up, despite the fact that James Pattinson and Pat Cummins were making the ball move
around corners. But Langer loves his match-ups, and against two left-handers, the off-spin of Lyon was the
way to go. Perhaps it’s why Cummins persisted around the wicket to England’s left-handers, despite the
fact that he looked far more dangerous going over.
Perhaps some intricate deep dive had told them not to bounce Stuart Broad when he first arrived at the
crease, because even if you can get him out that way, he also tends to score quicker. Certainly that’s what
James Pattinson alluded to afterwards. “On this surface, it’s probably hard to force the issue,” he said. “A lot
of pace has gone out of the pitch, so you have to find ways to build pressure.” When they finally decided to
bombard Broad, of course, he succumbed within minutes. But his partnership of 65 with Chris Woakes had
already given England a decisive advantage.
Australia have clawed their way back into the
match (AP)And even if you look beyond specifics, you can glimpse the outlines of a game within a game out there, of
two jittery sides locked in a suspicious dance, nervy and watchful, actively trying to second-guess each
other. Joe Root’s field setting for Cameron Bancroft to Moeen Ali – three men on the leg-side boundary in
only the eighth over – felt too clever by half. But then it was Bancroft who blinked too soon, taking a pre-
emptive step forward to Moeen, forced to adjust to a straighter one and plopping the ball straight to short
leg.
Then you had the extremely surreal setup for Steve Smith first up: a short point, a catcher alongside the
non-striker at short mid-on, a leg gully, a troupe of mime artists at mid-wicket, four black daffodils wearing
sulphur watches at short third man. And as England tried desperately to think Smith out, Smith simply
toyed with them: flicking the ball nonchalantly through mid-wicket, forcing Root to plug the gap, and then
nudging the ball through mid-on where the fielder had come from.
Smith, of course, is the very antidote to all this: a player who defies any plan you might have for him by
simply coming up with a better one. England tried everything in that final session: leg gullies, leg slips,