Test 1 Day 1

Good, right? I should say I thought that even before The Hat-Trick that Stopped a Nation, partly because I was so dreading total awfulness that the fact we looked at least competent at all times yesterday registered as a genuine win. That's a bit sad.

But also, isn't it Ben Hilfenhaus who won the day by playing up to the "1st ball" hoo-hah and getting a wicket at least thereabouts? It certainly made me let my breath out. That stuff is a bit superstitious, but I was at the Gabba on the 1st day 4 years ago and the English nerves and despair were certainly palpable, bedazzling and convincing.

I enjoyed Siddle as well of course. I've seen that particular "Come On!" before, specifically from Warnie taking out Herschelle Gibbs with a Gattingesque ball in the 1999 World Cup second semi-final against South Africa (this game is my only, my only source of traditional cricket insanely-detailed-historical-reference nerdiness, please let me keep it). It's the cry of the doubted bowler returning from injury, channelling the cry of the doubted team.

I was sure I'd made the Wild Thing comparison with Siddle before, that "I am a stomping roaring monster" thing, but I can't find it so at the risk of repeating myself:

Other notables: Greg Chappell spotted in the crowd wearing, I swear, pince-nez.

Speaking of shameless dandies, I also got around to watching the new Warnie show on the internet last night. Awkward. I sat through most of it, though I was forced to skip the "Bumble's Bits" (or whatever) segment, in which David Lloyd simulates being a painful old bugger cornering you in a pub, for fear of stabbing myself in the face with a fork.

Test 2, Day 2: cosmic ruckus

Frankly, I'm a little concerned.

Because it would seem that Russell Crowe's ego, already thought to be planet-sized, in fact has the wildly bloated mass of an aging dwarf star whose imminent gravitational collapse threatens to engulf us all in a sucking black hole implosion.

This, however, would presumably resolve the game in a draw. I can see the scene in 100 years time when the Mo-cyborg is rolled out for his "stats" roll card on how the Aussies have always managed to avoid defeat at Lords: "Year X: saved by rain; year Y: saved by rain; year Z: saved by amazing rearguard batting by the bowlers, and then of course the 2009 Ashes when a seemingly inevitable loss was averted by the Russell Crowe Black Hole Catastrophe gobbling up the whole of Lords. There's meteorology and then there's METEOROLOGY, ya know? Terrible tragedy, but it saved the match and thank God Russ himself was also completely sucked up into his own dark, oh so dark Hole (har har)."

I called it a night just after they resumed following tea, when Katich and Hussey were ploddingly picking up the pieces of the first session. But I couldn't sleep and when I got up again and turned on the telly it was clear this was because my lizard brain couldn't find peace with all the cosmic ruckus created by collapsing Australian wickets. Six for 139! I took some pleasure in seeing Johnson bat, but even this was short-lived.

So Australia is on 7/150, it's total disarray, and in the middle of it all Nasser welcomes Russell to the commentary box with him and Warney. What would you do? What would anyone do? Russell Crowe would take the opportunity to launch into a musty and long-winded question about captaining strategy in the LAST GAME — cos Lord knows that's what's on everyone's minds at the moment — which he has clearly been carrying around in his figurative pocket all day like a crumpled acceptance speech and he may as well have decided at that moment to read one of his poems, because that's about how irrelevant and pontificating it was.

The question never got answered — possibly never got finished, it certainly seemed interminable — because then HADDIN fell, because ACTUALLY WE'RE IN THE MIDDLE OF A TUMULTUOUS COLLAPSE. GOD.

There was more. It was horrific. Maybe another time, I don't think I can go through it again right now. Even Warney seemed embarrassed, and Nasser was speechless, but then nothing Russ said was actually designed to draw any response, it was just thud, thud, thud, lob out my cricket kudos, whack down some names, ho ho ho, here I am, baby. In the end Nasser just said: "Well... thanks a lot." Go Russ, please go.

What else?

New Ways to get batsmen out Pt II

Peter Siddle has a real Fee Fi Fo Fum aura when he's up, but clearly the blood of an Englishman doesn't agree with him.

Batting bowlers I

I'm enjoying Jason Gillespie's new career as the Voice of the Batsman. In Monday's Sydney Morning Herald he weighed in on the question of Harmison's recall, speaking, of course, from the batsman's perspective:

"It's just that unnerving bounce. Even when he does pitch it up, as a batter you're not quite sure whether it's there to drive or press forward to because he's so tall and he gets that bounce." (my emphasis)

Then again during the rain delay yesterday he was chatting with the older folk in the BBC commentary box about Andrew Flintoff:

Dizzy: "You always felt you were in with a chance with Andrew Flintoff…"
Other commentators, checking they've got this right: "As… a batter?"
Dizzy (totally blithe): "As a batter, yeah…"

The fact he says "batter" rather than the more orthodox "batsman" makes it even better. He's great.

Batting bowlers II - Hauritz: Orphan Annie?

Hauritz's hapless face under his helmet at the end of the day put me in mind of something, someone, some cartooned someone, and I think this is it:


But more worried. Meanwhile, before I got up again and saw the horrorshow x 2, my only real thought about Day 2 was:

Graham Onions = Ben Hilfenhaus + Reg Mombassa

Here we go.

As I said to someone on Facebook this morning, I'm as jumpy as a cat on a hot tin roof, and have been all week. I'm nervous. More nervous (as I also said) about the old boys than the new boys because Ricky's just been so good temper-wise this year but I'm worried he'll throw it all out the window and regress at the first well-placed sledge...

Wrong player, but that kind of thing. I also felt uneasy when I heard that Ricky had been getting people to speak to the team about what the Ashes meant to them: this sounded very Steve Waugh to me (and I'm not sure how hearing Simon Katich say how the Ashes almost ruined his life twice is especially uplifting...) I do very much want Mr Katich ("Mr February") to do well. Maybe he & Ricky could shift some of their crankiness to Michael Clarke (I know Katich tried) to shake up his head prefect act—how did he become so insufferable?*

And Hussey: want him to do well too, worry he won't.

So those are the old boys, right? By contrast, I am all calm excitement at the prospect of seeing Mitchell Johnson, Stuart Clark (not *so* young, but I haven't seen him for a while), Siddle, Hilfenhaus and those nice new young batsmen.

In a bit of hopeful overinterpretation, I decided the decision to leave out Harmison was a sign the Poms were worried and superstitious about too much attention being given to his first ball. I.e. their confidence is so fragile that they're worried they'll fall apart if he sends down a blooper. I like that kind of worry in a Pom. I'll be willing it into existence.

*Speaking of crawlers, Shane Watson deserves never to play in an Ashes test again after publically declaring Flintoff to be his idol and role model after the 2005 Ashes. Flintoff was everyone's idol and role model after the 2005 Ashes, but that doesn't mean you SAY IT OUT LOUD.