It is 3.10pm and for the first time in the match England are getting twitchy. Australia are 97-0 from 22 overs but there really is no need to panic. The tourists still trail by 234.
But there are buts. This matters; for a start there are two years of bragging rights at stake. This is the Ashes and England have been in such a preposterously good position since Stuart Broad’s nine-over spell on Thursday morning that it has been barely possible to contemplate anything other than a glorious English win.
Yet we know that when victory is so coveted strange things can happen and the mind can treacherously entertain the direst sequence of events. We have seen how hard it can be to serve for the match at Wimbledon, or how a six-shot cushion may not be enough when setting off for the final nine holes of The Open. Moreover, Chris Rogers and David Warner are batting well; the runs are flowing fast.
Mark Wood, setting off from the Pavilion End, begins the 23rd over of the innings. In he speeds from around the wicket at Rogers. He tries the bouncer; too short the ball flies over Jos Buttler’s head for four unstoppable byes. The hundred is up; the phalanx of Aussie supporters in their green and gold, some of whom are marshalled by the great Allan Border (also in the appropriate uniform) rise and roar as one in the New Stand. At last they have something to cheer about.
Wood bounds in again. This time the ball drifts on to Rogers’ pads and is flicked away fine; four more runs. More antipodean cheers. Wood is dutifully bowling around the wicket because we know Rogers does not like this line of attack. Broad has tormented him like this. But it is becoming apparent that Wood does not much like this line of attack either. He looks uncomfortable. Perhaps he thinks an England bowler should be able to bowl from any angle – even if it is unfamiliar.
But hang on. Wood’s third delivery has menace. Rogers is opened up; the edge is found and there is Joe Root diving to his left at third slip to hold a brilliant catch. Jubilation everywhere except among the massed ranks of Aussies. Rogers sets off dolefully but then stops at the behest of umpire Dar.
Replay follows replay before umpire Marais Erasmus in front of his monitor reaches his conclusion. The line belongs to him.
It is a no-ball. Why do they do it, these fast bowlers? There is nothing to gain from the extra three inches. It is not only Wood; Ben Stokes has this problem, so does Steven Finn. So, among many others from the past, did Derek Pringle, Bob Willis, Joel Garner. For some unfathomable reason they have to be as close to the batsman as they can get.
Rogers returns to the middle. England are losing it. The earlier lost opportunities spring to mind, evidence of this ridiculous tension. For heaven’s sake, this game should be a cakewalk.
There was the review of an lbw against Warner in Wood’s first spell, which prompted an almost unprecedented three greens on the TV screen. Then there were the dropped catches when Warner was on 10 and 42. The culprits were the captain, Alastair Cook, and Ian Bell, the old soldiers.
These were tricky chances but the current standards are high. Perhaps their long experience of Ashes cricket had piled on the anxiety. They knew more than their team-mates how much was at stake.
Forget the maths, Wood is furious. He charges in again and beats the bat. Such is the frustration out there that everyone except Buttler appeals. There is no review but there is a replay. At a conservative estimate the ball has missed the bat by about two inches. So much, then, for England’s clinical control.
The next ball is a bore. Rogers leaves it. Then Wood bangs one down short and a little wide. Rogers upper-cuts over the slips for four and acknowledges the applause from underneath the gold caps. That’s his 50. Rogers blocks the final delivery and Wood grabs his cap, for once looking a novice. Australia are 110-0.
Crazy, isn’t it? The result of this match had been a foregone conclusion since the first session, yet the gremlins were creeping in.
The folly of allowing the mind to wander so frenetically would soon be revealed – as again would the fragility of the Australian batting lineup. Ben Stokes would intervene majestically just before tea with a wonderful hand in four wickets. Then Wood would look a Test bowler once again.
He found the edge of Michael Clarke’s bat in what very much feels like the Australian captain’s penultimate Test. This time the hands of Cook, while not in the right place, were softer, more relaxed. There was a little juggle just to offer the batsman hope, then an “over to you, Belly” and Clarke was on his way. How could the triumphant march to victory ever have been in doubt? Because this was the Ashes.
