TEST cricket rarely surpasses Australia’s recently completed series in India and marks a whole new chapter for our national team.
CHAPTER 1: IN THE LINE OF FIRE
STEVE Smith finds sleep hard to come by during a Test match. We know this because he told the Dalai Lama. Just 10 hours per match, he reckons, across Australia’s recent tour of India. One in which his side ultimately failed, but grew in stature to a degree few outside the team themselves had believed credible beforehand.
A decent proportion of that meagre total during the second Test in Bangalore probably came on the first night. Smith’s side — ‘the worst Australian team ever to tour India,’ as they had been dubbed pre-series — were on top. Not just on top, absolutely pummelling the no. 1 Test playing nation. In their own back yard. If restfulness was ever to settle over the Australian captain during the tour, it was then.
A thrillingly improbable first Test win in the bank, the tourists had just skittled India inside a day for less than 200 for a third straight innings. Nathan Lyon had taken 8-50. The spin bowler ripping through a celebrated line up to record the best figures by a visiting bowler in these parts.
Coming to the ground that morning Smith may have been light on sleep, but could be forgiven for thinking he was dreaming. And then the mood changed. Dramatically.
Australia’s openers, Matt Renshaw — on his first overseas tour — and David Warner — no lover of subcontinental conditions — had steered the team to 0-40 at the close. Everything was going to plan. Australia’s plan, that is, not the one scripted for a callow team ripe for decimation at the hands of the all-conquering hosts.
Coming to the ground that morning Smith may have been light on sleep, but could be forgiven for thinking he was dreaming. And then the mood changed. Dramatically.
On an already cracking, bone dry deck, India’s bowlers themselves suddenly woke up. And started to breathe fire. With spin from one end and pace from the other, sharp turn on offer for the former, up and down bounce for the latter, Australia were to feel the full force of a wounded animal raging against the dying of the bright light of their erstwhile supremacy against all comers.
What unfolded in the first session of that day’s play was the kind of beautifully brutal arm wrestle only Test cricket at its very best can produce.
STEVE Smith finds sleep hard to come by during a Test match. We know this because he told the Dalai Lama. Just 10 hours per match, he reckons, across Australia’s recent tour of India. One in which his side ultimately failed, but grew in stature to a degree few outside the team themselves had believed credible beforehand.
A decent proportion of that meagre total during the second Test in Bangalore probably came on the first night. Smith’s side — ‘the worst Australian team ever to tour India,’ as they had been dubbed pre-series — were on top. Not just on top, absolutely pummelling the no. 1 Test playing nation. In their own back yard. If restfulness was ever to settle over the Australian captain during the tour, it was then.
A thrillingly improbable first Test win in the bank, the tourists had just skittled India inside a day for less than 200 for a third straight innings. Nathan Lyon had taken 8-50. The spin bowler ripping through a celebrated line up to record the best figures by a visiting bowler in these parts.
Coming to the ground that morning Smith may have been light on sleep, but could be forgiven for thinking he was dreaming. And then the mood changed. Dramatically.
Australia’s openers, Matt Renshaw — on his first overseas tour — and David Warner — no lover of subcontinental conditions — had steered the team to 0-40 at the close. Everything was going to plan. Australia’s plan, that is, not the one scripted for a callow team ripe for decimation at the hands of the all-conquering hosts.
Coming to the ground that morning Smith may have been light on sleep, but could be forgiven for thinking he was dreaming. And then the mood changed. Dramatically.
On an already cracking, bone dry deck, India’s bowlers themselves suddenly woke up. And started to breathe fire. With spin from one end and pace from the other, sharp turn on offer for the former, up and down bounce for the latter, Australia were to feel the full force of a wounded animal raging against the dying of the bright light of their erstwhile supremacy against all comers.
What unfolded in the first session of that day’s play was the kind of beautifully brutal arm wrestle only Test cricket at its very best can produce.
Tension and drama dripped off every over, every delivery. A blitzkrieg of attacking energy washed over the batsmen, wave upon wave crashing against their defences. Warner was powerless to resist and fell, Smith taking his place.
In a series that saw shifts in momentum as a near daily occurrence; where honest conflict between old foes sometimes tipped over to outright war; in which heavy words were lightly tossed; where heroes stood up and villains, too, had their day, what happened in that morning was the whole sprawling tumult of a battle royale distilled in to two hours of the most compelling cricket witnessed in recent years. Mighty India asserting their dominance; a young Australian side learning something profound about themselves under extreme pressure; and, for a time at least, proving more than equal to it.
In the big, brash era of Twenty20 cricket, this was a return to the heart-stopping drama of small things. Just 47 runs were scored. Two wickets fell. Smith, scorer of three defining centuries across the series, faced 52 balls for just eight runs and not a single boundary. It was arguably the most notable and impressive spell he batted, absorbing a barrage of blows, fighting for survival, protecting his teammates behind him, leading by example.
India were simply electric. Ishant Sharma contorted his face in the shear effort of it all. Smith responded mockingly. Renshaw, a then 20-year-old with the fresh face of a child, laughed off an onslaught as savage as he has ever faced, perhaps will ever face. Renshaw ultimately stuck around for a 263 ball 60. Others chipped in. Shaun Marsh, who in the final reckoning did not entirely merit his inclusion in the side across the series, here suggested he might, 66 off almost as many deliveries as Renshaw. Matthew Wade was gritty. Peter Handscomb briefly, as was to be the recurring theme of his tour, fluid.
In a series that saw shifts in momentum as a near daily occurrence; where honest conflict between old foes sometimes tipped over to outright war; in which heavy words were lightly tossed; where heroes stood up and villains, too, had their day, what happened in that morning was the whole sprawling tumult of a battle royale distilled in to two hours of the most compelling cricket witnessed in recent years. Mighty India asserting their dominance; a young Australian side learning something profound about themselves under extreme pressure; and, for a time at least, proving more than equal to it.
In the big, brash era of Twenty20 cricket, this was a return to the heart-stopping drama of small things. Just 47 runs were scored. Two wickets fell. Smith, scorer of three defining centuries across the series, faced 52 balls for just eight runs and not a single boundary. It was arguably the most notable and impressive spell he batted, absorbing a barrage of blows, fighting for survival, protecting his teammates behind him, leading by example.
India were simply electric. Ishant Sharma contorted his face in the shear effort of it all. Smith responded mockingly. Renshaw, a then 20-year-old with the fresh face of a child, laughed off an onslaught as savage as he has ever faced, perhaps will ever face. Renshaw ultimately stuck around for a 263 ball 60. Others chipped in. Shaun Marsh, who in the final reckoning did not entirely merit his inclusion in the side across the series, here suggested he might, 66 off almost as many deliveries as Renshaw. Matthew Wade was gritty. Peter Handscomb briefly, as was to be the recurring theme of his tour, fluid.
Australia ended the day with their noses fractionally in front. A not inconsiderable achievement when measured against India’s relentless fury and excellence. The drama did not let up across the next two days as momentum swung this way and that, wickets tumbling in clumps, four men taking six wicket hauls for the first time in a Test match as Josh Hazlewood, Ravi Ashwin and Ravindra Jadeja followed Lyon’s lead.
Being set 188 to win on a deteriorating wicket was always too big an ask for Australia and, as they would ultimately do in the series, they fell just short. The series was levelled.
But despite the disappointment, Smith, Renshaw and the rest had shown they were here to fight, could take the heavy blows without taking a backward step. The shambles of Hobart, Australia’s modern cricketing nadir less than five months prior, had led to introspection and a scorched earth reinvention of the team. In Ranchi a different type of defeat was suffered. One that spoke of resilience and hope for the future. The restoration still an unfinished project, but some foundations being laid on unforgiving Indian soil.
CHAPTER 2: THE C WORD
In the days that followed the second Test, few were talking about the nuances of defeat with honour, or of Test cricket reasserting its relevance in glorious fashion, of a series still in the balance. No, there was only one topic up for discussion.
In the midst of Australia’s unsuccessful second innings chase, with tensions flaring so much that the rival captains were at each other even during drinks breaks, Smith had what he would later call ‘a brain fade’. His opposite number, Virat Kohli had a different word for it, though he only insinuated it, allowing others to fill in the blank.
Caught lbw to an Umesh Yadav grubber, Smith looked up to the dressing room for clues as to the merits of using DRS. It was an ugly look. Against both the spirit and rules of the game. Kohli was incensed, as he had the right to be. Smith walked as the umpire moved to caution him.
The on field chatter had already reached a level flirting with the line, at times with a juvenile unpleasantness to it. But that was to be ramped up when Kohli walked in to the post-match press conference and, briefly sat atop the moral high ground, went about bulldozing the earth beneath him.
Teasing the word ‘cheat’ out of a journalist, he went on to claim it was not a one off. He had witnessed it twice more while batting. Such had been his failure with the willow to that point it stretched credulity there was even time for that to have been true. No evidence was offered or found on reviewing the footage. It was a bizarre and unsubstantiated claim. But in keeping with the raw animosity between the two teams throughout the series.
Having spoken of having friends in the Australian camp beforehand, he insisted those relationships now dead. Too much bad blood had been spilt.
Once the series was won, Kohli, injured and playing no part in the final contest, save cameos as the most famous drinks carrier of all time, donned his whites and hijacked the celebrations. Having spoken of having friends in the Australian camp beforehand, he insisted those relationships now dead. Too much bad blood had been spilt. The irony was his rabid, almost maniacal presence on the field had rendered more cuts than most. His final say on the matter the most classless and petty of all.
Neither side showered themselves in glory on that score. Some overstepping of the mark was to be expected, such was the intensity of the battle.
Yet the BBCI sharing the contents of verbal spats recorded on stump mics on their social media channels; Kohli refusing to follow the host broadcasters’ suit in apologising to Smith after he was wrongly accused of mocking Kohli’s shoulder injury, something Glenn Maxwell had, however, done; Smith caught calling Murali Vijay a ‘cheat’ when the Indian unintentionally claimed a grounded catch; the persistent and childish on-field verbals, all added up to unedifying viewing at times. But, in part, added to the theatre around the series.
Smith tried to heal still raw wounds at the conclusion, offering to join the Indians for a beer — an offer that was declined — and striking a conciliatory tone in his statesmanlike post-series interviews. It was not the only evidence of a man maturing before us in to one of the true greats of this, or any other era.
CHAPTER 3: CAPTAIN, MY CAPTAIN
When Smith joined Kohli for the toss on the first morning of the first Test in Pune, he was facing a rival who had not tasted defeat at home since 2012. Australia was coming off the back of nine straight losses in Asia. Few gave the tourists any sort of chance of prospering in conditions they had habitually struggled with. However, India’s home advantage was to prove illusionary here. A pitch so doctored that Shane Warne had declared it looking ‘like a day eight wicket’, with delicious irony, actually served to level the playing field.
The match was played on a deck so treacherous that no one was able to master it. No one, that is, except Australia’s captain.
Smith won the toss. Australia batted first. And well, under the circumstances, Warner and Renshaw — despite having a case of Delhi belly that saw him leave the field for a spell — set a platform. Mitchell Starc swung the bat late in the day to turn a decent total in to an impressive one. Starc then struck a telling blow to remove Kohli for a duck as the hosts were undone by a minefield of their own design.
Being set 188 to win on a deteriorating wicket was always too big an ask for Australia and, as they would ultimately do in the series, they fell just short. The series was levelled.
But despite the disappointment, Smith, Renshaw and the rest had shown they were here to fight, could take the heavy blows without taking a backward step. The shambles of Hobart, Australia’s modern cricketing nadir less than five months prior, had led to introspection and a scorched earth reinvention of the team. In Ranchi a different type of defeat was suffered. One that spoke of resilience and hope for the future. The restoration still an unfinished project, but some foundations being laid on unforgiving Indian soil.
CHAPTER 2: THE C WORD
In the days that followed the second Test, few were talking about the nuances of defeat with honour, or of Test cricket reasserting its relevance in glorious fashion, of a series still in the balance. No, there was only one topic up for discussion.
In the midst of Australia’s unsuccessful second innings chase, with tensions flaring so much that the rival captains were at each other even during drinks breaks, Smith had what he would later call ‘a brain fade’. His opposite number, Virat Kohli had a different word for it, though he only insinuated it, allowing others to fill in the blank.
Caught lbw to an Umesh Yadav grubber, Smith looked up to the dressing room for clues as to the merits of using DRS. It was an ugly look. Against both the spirit and rules of the game. Kohli was incensed, as he had the right to be. Smith walked as the umpire moved to caution him.
The on field chatter had already reached a level flirting with the line, at times with a juvenile unpleasantness to it. But that was to be ramped up when Kohli walked in to the post-match press conference and, briefly sat atop the moral high ground, went about bulldozing the earth beneath him.
Teasing the word ‘cheat’ out of a journalist, he went on to claim it was not a one off. He had witnessed it twice more while batting. Such had been his failure with the willow to that point it stretched credulity there was even time for that to have been true. No evidence was offered or found on reviewing the footage. It was a bizarre and unsubstantiated claim. But in keeping with the raw animosity between the two teams throughout the series.
Having spoken of having friends in the Australian camp beforehand, he insisted those relationships now dead. Too much bad blood had been spilt.
Once the series was won, Kohli, injured and playing no part in the final contest, save cameos as the most famous drinks carrier of all time, donned his whites and hijacked the celebrations. Having spoken of having friends in the Australian camp beforehand, he insisted those relationships now dead. Too much bad blood had been spilt. The irony was his rabid, almost maniacal presence on the field had rendered more cuts than most. His final say on the matter the most classless and petty of all.
Neither side showered themselves in glory on that score. Some overstepping of the mark was to be expected, such was the intensity of the battle.
Yet the BBCI sharing the contents of verbal spats recorded on stump mics on their social media channels; Kohli refusing to follow the host broadcasters’ suit in apologising to Smith after he was wrongly accused of mocking Kohli’s shoulder injury, something Glenn Maxwell had, however, done; Smith caught calling Murali Vijay a ‘cheat’ when the Indian unintentionally claimed a grounded catch; the persistent and childish on-field verbals, all added up to unedifying viewing at times. But, in part, added to the theatre around the series.
Smith tried to heal still raw wounds at the conclusion, offering to join the Indians for a beer — an offer that was declined — and striking a conciliatory tone in his statesmanlike post-series interviews. It was not the only evidence of a man maturing before us in to one of the true greats of this, or any other era.
CHAPTER 3: CAPTAIN, MY CAPTAIN
When Smith joined Kohli for the toss on the first morning of the first Test in Pune, he was facing a rival who had not tasted defeat at home since 2012. Australia was coming off the back of nine straight losses in Asia. Few gave the tourists any sort of chance of prospering in conditions they had habitually struggled with. However, India’s home advantage was to prove illusionary here. A pitch so doctored that Shane Warne had declared it looking ‘like a day eight wicket’, with delicious irony, actually served to level the playing field.
The match was played on a deck so treacherous that no one was able to master it. No one, that is, except Australia’s captain.
Smith won the toss. Australia batted first. And well, under the circumstances, Warner and Renshaw — despite having a case of Delhi belly that saw him leave the field for a spell — set a platform. Mitchell Starc swung the bat late in the day to turn a decent total in to an impressive one. Starc then struck a telling blow to remove Kohli for a duck as the hosts were undone by a minefield of their own design.
Aided by the accommodating pitch, Steve O’Keefe’s ability to turn some and keep others straight bamboozled India, his figures of 12-70 evenly spread across the two innings. For all the unexpected joy O’Keefe’s performance drew, however, the match was as much decided by Smith alone scoring more in his second innings than India had collectively in either of theirs.
He was given a handful of lives, but on a pitch so unreliable riding luck was always necessary. His 109 was his 18th Test century but undoubtedly the hardest fought, the most gutsy and, in terms of setting a tone for the series, possibly his most important.
From there he was to lead from the front, elevating himself towards the strata of Australian batsmen that sit just below Don Bradman, the undisputed greatest of them all. Twice more he would go to three figures, scoring 499 runs in total at a staggering average of 71.28. He even found time to shepherd Maxwell — drafted in for the injured and ineffective Mitchell Marsh when Marsh was injured in the second Test — to his own emotional debut ton, while simultaneously registering the highest individual total by an Australian captain in India, 178, in the drawn third test in Ranchi.
His 109 was his 18th Test century but undoubtedly the hardest fought, the most gutsy and, in terms of setting a tone for the series, possibly his most important.
In the first innings in Dharamsala, his first innings 111 briefly offered Australia a platform to claim a series win. It would be overstating things to suggest Australia is a one man team with the bat. Though in that final Test, Smith was left stranded, unbeaten as he ran out of partners in a spell when the match was lost. From 1-131 at lunch Australia were all out for 300 when par was 100-150 higher, the debutant Kuldeep Yadav providing one final twist with his Warne-inspired flippers and wrong-un. Had others managed to get closer to Smith’s consistent levels of excellence who knows what might have been possible?
He was given a handful of lives, but on a pitch so unreliable riding luck was always necessary. His 109 was his 18th Test century but undoubtedly the hardest fought, the most gutsy and, in terms of setting a tone for the series, possibly his most important.
From there he was to lead from the front, elevating himself towards the strata of Australian batsmen that sit just below Don Bradman, the undisputed greatest of them all. Twice more he would go to three figures, scoring 499 runs in total at a staggering average of 71.28. He even found time to shepherd Maxwell — drafted in for the injured and ineffective Mitchell Marsh when Marsh was injured in the second Test — to his own emotional debut ton, while simultaneously registering the highest individual total by an Australian captain in India, 178, in the drawn third test in Ranchi.
His 109 was his 18th Test century but undoubtedly the hardest fought, the most gutsy and, in terms of setting a tone for the series, possibly his most important.
In the first innings in Dharamsala, his first innings 111 briefly offered Australia a platform to claim a series win. It would be overstating things to suggest Australia is a one man team with the bat. Though in that final Test, Smith was left stranded, unbeaten as he ran out of partners in a spell when the match was lost. From 1-131 at lunch Australia were all out for 300 when par was 100-150 higher, the debutant Kuldeep Yadav providing one final twist with his Warne-inspired flippers and wrong-un. Had others managed to get closer to Smith’s consistent levels of excellence who knows what might have been possible?
Off the field too, he had a weight to bear that few can fully empathise with. Australia’s coach described Smith’s leadership on the tour as ‘Bradman-esque’. And few would dispute that. The central figure for media interrogations and lightening rod for Indian attacks, he admitted his emotions on one or two occasions overwhelmed him, but the mental resolve needed to captain this side in this series cannot be overstated. He earned a couple of passes.
In sharp contrast his opposite number ended the series diminished in many people’s eyes. A superstar batsman with one of the toughest gigs in the sport, his will to win and commitment to his side’s cause is unquestioned and rightly admired. Yet, when things did not go his way, clarity and dignity deserted him. The cheating accusations and his unwillingness to step back from them, his wild-eyed fury on the pitch and ‘unfriending’ of his opponents spoke of a sourness unbecoming of a leader. Perhaps his abject failure with the bat, which was as complete and emphatic as at any time in his career, played a part in that.
CHAPTER 4: WINNERS AND LOSERS
The mentally and physically demanding, attritional nature of any tour to India, ‘the final frontier’, will always produce casualties, and this series was no different. Young men showed maturity beyond their years and established performers further burnished their reputations. But others came to the end of the line, or wilted under the most crushing of pressures.
The inking of the name Marsh on an Australian team-sheet in recent years is the starting gun to argument and dissent. Neither Mitchell nor Shaun did enough here to change that.
Mitchell bowled just five overs over the two Tests he played before being sent home injured, a damning statistic when he was picked at no. 6 for his supposed superior bowling to other candidates. And 48 runs at 12 was underwhelming.
Shaun can lay claim to having performed a vital role in saving the third Test, when in tandem with Handscomb a stand of 124 from 62 overs saw Australia survive a perilous fifth day. Though the time taken out of the game prior by Smith and Renshaw was deserving of equal credit in that respect, too.
In sharp contrast his opposite number ended the series diminished in many people’s eyes. A superstar batsman with one of the toughest gigs in the sport, his will to win and commitment to his side’s cause is unquestioned and rightly admired. Yet, when things did not go his way, clarity and dignity deserted him. The cheating accusations and his unwillingness to step back from them, his wild-eyed fury on the pitch and ‘unfriending’ of his opponents spoke of a sourness unbecoming of a leader. Perhaps his abject failure with the bat, which was as complete and emphatic as at any time in his career, played a part in that.
CHAPTER 4: WINNERS AND LOSERS
The mentally and physically demanding, attritional nature of any tour to India, ‘the final frontier’, will always produce casualties, and this series was no different. Young men showed maturity beyond their years and established performers further burnished their reputations. But others came to the end of the line, or wilted under the most crushing of pressures.
The inking of the name Marsh on an Australian team-sheet in recent years is the starting gun to argument and dissent. Neither Mitchell nor Shaun did enough here to change that.
Mitchell bowled just five overs over the two Tests he played before being sent home injured, a damning statistic when he was picked at no. 6 for his supposed superior bowling to other candidates. And 48 runs at 12 was underwhelming.
Shaun can lay claim to having performed a vital role in saving the third Test, when in tandem with Handscomb a stand of 124 from 62 overs saw Australia survive a perilous fifth day. Though the time taken out of the game prior by Smith and Renshaw was deserving of equal credit in that respect, too.
Shaun was selected in a horses for courses move ahead of Usman Khawaja due to his supposed mastery of Indian wickets. A decisive and bold decision, or cruel and heartless, depending on your viewpoint. He hinted at validating the big call in flashes, but not consistently and age and susceptibility to injury, as well as a home Ashes summer where Khawaja will undoubtedly be preferred, means his international career is now almost certainly over. His brother will remain in the mix but this tour did little to bolster his cause.
That show of concentration in Ranchi was Handscomb’s high water mark, too. He got starts on almost every visit to the crease but only then kicked on. His spectacular close fielding and callowness at this level means he nonetheless secured a pass mark and Smith spoke in glowing terms of his value to the team.
Warner looked a wicket waiting to happen every time he walked to the middle and for a player of such exquisite shot making his inability to deal with subcontinental spin is now a truth as evident as any in the sport.
Matthew Wade did little wrong behind the stumps — despite many observers fearing he would be a liability — and showed grit at times with the bat. Starc and Hazlewood were typically, routinely assured while O’Keefe’s impressive figures of 19 at 23.26 were heavily weighted to that stunning couple of days in Pune. Otherwise he was as tidy and reliable as was asked of him and it would be churlish to in any way to let his lack of penetration thereafter devalue the majesty of his most telling impact in securing a first Australian Test win in India since 2004.
He will resume the role of second spinner, however, due to Nathan Lyon’s latest critics defying tour that featured his own stand out innings on the first day of the second Test and the flourish of another five wicket haul in the foothills of the Himalayas.
Of perhaps greatest excitement for Australians was the sight of a fit again Cummins charging, his otherworldly pace and menace making a welcome return after being absent from this Australian side for half a decade since he made his thrilling debut in South Africa. Two Tests, four wickets in each and, more importantly, little sign of fatigue or breakdown despite a hefty back-to-back workload is cause for celebration back home, sheer terror for those watching on from London.
Australia’s openers enjoyed contrasting fortunes. Warner looked a wicket waiting to happen every time he walked to the middle and for a player of such exquisite shot making and regular match defining intent, his inability to deal with subcontinental spin is now a truth as evident as any in the sport. Such is his talent his is judged by higher standards than most and he fell short here.
That show of concentration in Ranchi was Handscomb’s high water mark, too. He got starts on almost every visit to the crease but only then kicked on. His spectacular close fielding and callowness at this level means he nonetheless secured a pass mark and Smith spoke in glowing terms of his value to the team.
Warner looked a wicket waiting to happen every time he walked to the middle and for a player of such exquisite shot making his inability to deal with subcontinental spin is now a truth as evident as any in the sport.
Matthew Wade did little wrong behind the stumps — despite many observers fearing he would be a liability — and showed grit at times with the bat. Starc and Hazlewood were typically, routinely assured while O’Keefe’s impressive figures of 19 at 23.26 were heavily weighted to that stunning couple of days in Pune. Otherwise he was as tidy and reliable as was asked of him and it would be churlish to in any way to let his lack of penetration thereafter devalue the majesty of his most telling impact in securing a first Australian Test win in India since 2004.
He will resume the role of second spinner, however, due to Nathan Lyon’s latest critics defying tour that featured his own stand out innings on the first day of the second Test and the flourish of another five wicket haul in the foothills of the Himalayas.
Of perhaps greatest excitement for Australians was the sight of a fit again Cummins charging, his otherworldly pace and menace making a welcome return after being absent from this Australian side for half a decade since he made his thrilling debut in South Africa. Two Tests, four wickets in each and, more importantly, little sign of fatigue or breakdown despite a hefty back-to-back workload is cause for celebration back home, sheer terror for those watching on from London.
Australia’s openers enjoyed contrasting fortunes. Warner looked a wicket waiting to happen every time he walked to the middle and for a player of such exquisite shot making and regular match defining intent, his inability to deal with subcontinental spin is now a truth as evident as any in the sport. Such is his talent his is judged by higher standards than most and he fell short here.
For Renshaw, Dharmsala seemed a match too far, his more serious failure with the bat perhaps overshadowed by more glaring mistakes at slip, dropping Rahul and Saha at either end of the third day when Australia had no margin for such errors.
Yet across the series only three men faced more balls than the now 21-year-old. His level headedness on a first trip to India was a lesson in the opener’s craft. His relatively meagre looking figures of 232 at 29.00 don’t begin to tell the story of his contribution or rapid growth as a Test player.
An emotional ton for Maxwell validated his call up mid-series, the first no. 6 to go to three figures since one S. Smith did so three years ago. Smith, of course, now bats higher up the order. And on a higher plane than any of his peers, compatriots or otherwise.
CHAPTER 5: THE END OF THE AFFAIR
For every loser (and, for all the optimism generated around Smith’s side after a valiant effort, undone by two bad sessions in the final Test when victory was within grasp, that’s what they ultimately were) there is a winner.
It was supposed to have been much more straightforward for them, of course, but India eventually, deservedly prevailed, and in a series where Kohli failed abjectly and Ashwin, despite finishing second on the list of wicket takers, failed to dominate in a fashion he was perhaps expected.
That honour fell to Jadeja, the man of the series and a whirling dervish of energy and electricity throughout. Two five wicket hauls, his first in Bangalore to rip through Australia’s tail and restrict what could have been a defining first innings lead for Australia, that instead set up an India win; his second on a flat deck in Ranchi that again put the brakes on an Australian charge.
Yet across the series only three men faced more balls than the now 21-year-old. His level headedness on a first trip to India was a lesson in the opener’s craft. His relatively meagre looking figures of 232 at 29.00 don’t begin to tell the story of his contribution or rapid growth as a Test player.
An emotional ton for Maxwell validated his call up mid-series, the first no. 6 to go to three figures since one S. Smith did so three years ago. Smith, of course, now bats higher up the order. And on a higher plane than any of his peers, compatriots or otherwise.
CHAPTER 5: THE END OF THE AFFAIR
For every loser (and, for all the optimism generated around Smith’s side after a valiant effort, undone by two bad sessions in the final Test when victory was within grasp, that’s what they ultimately were) there is a winner.
It was supposed to have been much more straightforward for them, of course, but India eventually, deservedly prevailed, and in a series where Kohli failed abjectly and Ashwin, despite finishing second on the list of wicket takers, failed to dominate in a fashion he was perhaps expected.
That honour fell to Jadeja, the man of the series and a whirling dervish of energy and electricity throughout. Two five wicket hauls, his first in Bangalore to rip through Australia’s tail and restrict what could have been a defining first innings lead for Australia, that instead set up an India win; his second on a flat deck in Ranchi that again put the brakes on an Australian charge.
Twice we saw him twirl the blade of the bat like a samurai sword to celebrate going past 50, and in the series he reached 1,000 runs to go with more than 100 Test wickets. But more than the numbers was the drive he gave his side. Regardless of the conditions he was thrown in to battle early; on a variety of tracks he found turn that twisted Australian batsmen’s blood; and did it all with a smile. He is a man supremely confident of his own prodigious talent.
Jadeja, the man of the series and a whirling dervish of energy and electricity throughout.
If Jadeja was a firecracker in the field, there was room, too, for the slowest of slow burners to play a decisive hand. In Ranchi Cheteshwar Pujara erected a wall over three days that only fell when he took his own sledgehammer to it in search of quick runs. Immovable and unmoving, at times, his second Test double ton against Australia came at a glacial speed that sucked energy from the bowlers. Though there were few outward signs of it, the time he made them toil — O’Keefe joking he was just three overs shy of being given his own new ball when turning his arm over 77 times in an innings — may have helped in the final Test, too.
In all Pujara faced an incredible 1049 balls in the series, his other notable contribution a second innings 92 in Bangalore to help set up that victory.
Others played their part. India is not world no. 1 simply because they have a rock star captain and the best spinners of the time. KL Rahul opened the batting seven times and struck six 50s, a reliable presence getting India’s innings started whatever the match situation. The only mark against him being that he converted none of them.
Jadeja, the man of the series and a whirling dervish of energy and electricity throughout.
If Jadeja was a firecracker in the field, there was room, too, for the slowest of slow burners to play a decisive hand. In Ranchi Cheteshwar Pujara erected a wall over three days that only fell when he took his own sledgehammer to it in search of quick runs. Immovable and unmoving, at times, his second Test double ton against Australia came at a glacial speed that sucked energy from the bowlers. Though there were few outward signs of it, the time he made them toil — O’Keefe joking he was just three overs shy of being given his own new ball when turning his arm over 77 times in an innings — may have helped in the final Test, too.
In all Pujara faced an incredible 1049 balls in the series, his other notable contribution a second innings 92 in Bangalore to help set up that victory.
Others played their part. India is not world no. 1 simply because they have a rock star captain and the best spinners of the time. KL Rahul opened the batting seven times and struck six 50s, a reliable presence getting India’s innings started whatever the match situation. The only mark against him being that he converted none of them.
And it wasn’t only the spinners who got on top of Australia when it mattered. Umesh Yadav had variety to go with his pace, viciously exploiting any weakness in opponents with fierce cutters and reverse swinging the new and old ball alike. Kuldeep Yadav was inspirationally brought in in place of Kohli for the final Test, leaving them a batter light (no difference to having Kohl in the team, the joke went, on current form) but springing a surprise that befuddled Australia in their disaster of a first innings collapse.
Wriddhiman Saha was near flawless behind the poles and a pest to remove down the order when batting, Ajinkya Rahane didn’t have his best series but showed fine leadership when stepping in for Kohi in Dharmsala. Karun Nair and Murali Vijay will have and have had better series. Kohli, as always, dominated headlines and press conferences with his constant sniping, but was ineffective in the three matches he played, with the bat at least, his aggression at times vital in lifting his side in the field.
Kohli, as always, dominated headlines and press conferences with his constant sniping, but was ineffective in the three matches he played, with the bat at least, his aggression at times vital in lifting his side in the field.
Yet the collective proved too much for Australia. At times they had India on the back foot, most notably in the opening Test when it appeared a brittleness, perhaps born of complacency, had been exposed in the batting line up.
It was their array of world class bowlers who led the charge back on that incredible morning on day two in Ranchi. Their batsmen followed their lead but Australia’s stubbornness and resolve did not allow them to run away with things until the middle session of their first innings in the deciding Test.
That a transitional Australia was able to take the contest that far made fools of many pundits and commentators. But when the dust has settled and the appraisals given time to be considered, the verdict will be that Australia did not lose the series themselves, they forced India to fight, and fight hard, to win it. And however small, there is an importance difference in that.
Perhaps that thought will even allow Smith a peace of mind he couldn’t find in that consultation with the Dalai Lama, and he can catch up on some well-earned sleep as a result.
Wriddhiman Saha was near flawless behind the poles and a pest to remove down the order when batting, Ajinkya Rahane didn’t have his best series but showed fine leadership when stepping in for Kohi in Dharmsala. Karun Nair and Murali Vijay will have and have had better series. Kohli, as always, dominated headlines and press conferences with his constant sniping, but was ineffective in the three matches he played, with the bat at least, his aggression at times vital in lifting his side in the field.
Kohli, as always, dominated headlines and press conferences with his constant sniping, but was ineffective in the three matches he played, with the bat at least, his aggression at times vital in lifting his side in the field.
Yet the collective proved too much for Australia. At times they had India on the back foot, most notably in the opening Test when it appeared a brittleness, perhaps born of complacency, had been exposed in the batting line up.
It was their array of world class bowlers who led the charge back on that incredible morning on day two in Ranchi. Their batsmen followed their lead but Australia’s stubbornness and resolve did not allow them to run away with things until the middle session of their first innings in the deciding Test.
That a transitional Australia was able to take the contest that far made fools of many pundits and commentators. But when the dust has settled and the appraisals given time to be considered, the verdict will be that Australia did not lose the series themselves, they forced India to fight, and fight hard, to win it. And however small, there is an importance difference in that.
Perhaps that thought will even allow Smith a peace of mind he couldn’t find in that consultation with the Dalai Lama, and he can catch up on some well-earned sleep as a result.
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