There were stars, starlets, investments and mainstays. There were also gambles, gut feelings, inconsistencies and bolters. Such is the make up of an underdog touring party.
As Trevor Hohns unveiled Australia’s squad for India in February, you could just about hear the collective drawing of social media breath. Its self-appointed soldiers readied themselves for another round of outrage at the mistakes of Australia’s cricketing establishment. But the customary growl was reduced to mere prattle. With the exception of Mitchell Swepson’s selection, there was no dramatic dropping of jaws. Perhaps it’s because there’s a quiet, haunting sense of futility over what lies ahead in India, enough to hear Hohns’ announcement and simply shrug one’s shoulders. The 16 going to Asia have more chance of success than most others in the country and there are few else who would likely influence the result markedly enough to warrant serious indignation.
But selections reveal more than just the opinions of four men on the best 16 to win in February and March. They bring to light philosophies and attitudes that bare insight into how a country sees itself – and how this view has evolved – over time. Australia, under Darren Lehmann’s reign, has attempted to restore a sense of hostility, dominance and imperiousness to its cricket. Batsmen are rewarded for moving the game forward and bowlers have to be lightning, or thunderous at worst. So the stereotype goes. This squad, however, is remarkable in its humility. It’s a side tailored for the opposition, not its self-image. Horses for courses wasn’t convenient, empty rhetoric after all.
When you move past the statistical vagaries of Fawad Ahmed, Adam Zampa and Swepson, the latter’s selection gives the first clue to Australia’s approach. It’s spin-heavy and seam-light. It’s difficult to remember a time when an Australian squad had more tweakers than quicks in it, but it seems the visitors will try and spin to win. Most concede that the Queenslander will be surplus to requirements early, but it is telling that the NSP sought spin-bowling back-up before any other speciality. Also telling is the influence of Shane Warne, whose recent glowing comments about Swepson can’t have hurt the young leggie’s prospects. It would be cynical to view this as mere nepotism. Say what you will about Warne; when it comes to legspin, his endorsement is high praise.
Whereas classic bolters aren’t especially new in Australian cricket, slow batting most certainly is. In a further departure from the imperious of old, Australia is now talking about batting long, not big. To that end, the selection of Matt Renshaw fit neatly. Broadly, there can be few complaints over the selection of Australia’s top five on form and statistics alone, though hints continue about the possible protection of Renshaw in favour of crowbarring Shaun Marsh into the XI. The heart seems to have grown fonder of Marsh for his absence; the “Asian specialist” has scored hundreds in Sri Lanka and runs in the IPL, though he has never played a Test in India.
As with most Australia squads of late, one could be forgiven for the odd furrowed brow. Does Hilton Cartwright’s non-selection, for example, infer a mistake was made in Sydney? It certainly has the whiff of empty experimentalism about it. His inclusion in Sydney seems aimless now, to the point where you seriously wonder whether each of the selectors were thoroughly aware of his capabilities before selection. They are, like anyone, entitled to err, however the West Australian’s steep descent from atop the No6 mountain to its base is brutal. Now Glenn Maxwell, Shaun Marsh and Mitch Marsh re-emerge at its peak, though it’s hard to tell who has the flag. It is presumed that Cartwright, like Callum Ferguson and Nic Maddinson before him, returns to the back of an ever-lengthening queue. That the former three have returned to its front will be cold comfort.
Overall, it’s a squad where bets have been hedged. Hohns and his posse have prioritised flexibility over rigidity; it’s geared for tinkering and finessing. That the final selection was contentious is understandable. Previously, Australia’s selection solutions typically presented themselves clearly. Prolific batsmen were rewarded for runs in red ball cricket, bowlers similarly so. But these are ambiguous times. Creative solutions have been sought against a nexus of almost no long-form cricket, a stated youth policy, and extended losing in Asia – nine in a row to be precise. It follows that people would be scratching their heads. Something transcendent will need to happen for Australia to compete seriously; a batting breakthrough, a bowling masterclass, or, dare it be said, Glenn Maxwell’s arrival.
