Life on the Edge at Edgbaston the Hobbling of Australia’S Best Transfixed Households
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20 SPORTS / CRICKET > 27.07.2013 > MUMBAI, www.mid-day.com Life on the edge at Edgbaston THE hobbling of Australia’s best transfixed households. Entire pace bowler (Glenn McGrath had suburbs. It lives on in the stepped on a ball and suffered an memory of everyone watching, ankle injury) half an hour before whether adhered to television or ASHES start time might have provided sitting, in gut-churning tension, ample fodder for early editions at among the spellbound crowd. home, but it didn’t faze Ponting, Everyone except journalists who again pushed stubbornly working to Australian deadlines. ahead with his scripted plan to For the last half-hour, I saw not a TO DUST bowl when the coin fell in his single delivery, not a solitary run, favour (second Test at NO LUCK: Michael Kasprowicz nor even the tragi-triumphant As the England vs Australia series Edgbaston). That decision drew a final act when Michael sharp rebuke from Warne, who The home nation converged on Kasprowicz lost his wicket with seems to be heading the hosts’ way, saw it as a major tactical Edgbaston in ecstasy, and around Australia three runs shy of blunder. It was the first radios and televisions as if victory. Two runs short of a tie. here’s what transpired in the Aussie detectable hiss of discontent to awaiting a Churchillian When that moment of history seep from the tourists’ dressing pronouncement. Australia’s three was finally written, my sole camp during the 2005 series which room in weeks. least-credentialled batsmen, concern was ensuring the right Michael Vaughan’s England won 2-1 By stumps, Ponting could statistically at least, needed to version of the appropriate story justifiably point to the fact that pilfer more than a hundred runs was sent to its correct his bowlers had captured all ten from an England bowling attack destination. And that I had ANDREW RAMSEY twice on the shoulder and then English wickets. That they fell for that had dismembered their interpreted the scoreboard slipped into a waiting lift. There opponents’ top order twice in the AS Australia’s remained one last hope to recov- a tick over 400 runs probably correctly. The English, as a 2005 Ashes cam- er skills and solidarity before the vindicated his leg-spinner. When space of a weekend. nation, were elated. The paign lurched final Test in London — another the fourth morning dawned, the The final overs of perhaps the Australians understandably fully into crisis in training exercise, dressed up as a transition was all but complete. most famous Ashes encounter disappointed. Nottingham, I two-day match against a group was approached of eager youngsters posing as to pen an Essex’s first XI. Sagging spirits The tour had ended pretty THE BRIEF GLIMPSES I STOLE OF THE LOSERS’ CAMP appraisal of were not lifted when we arrived much as it began. At the scene of what ailed the tourists, from an at our shared accommodation, a a bitter ideological battle. For REVEALED A PICTURE NOT NEARLY AS FUNEREAL AS I Australian perspective, for publi- soulless 1980s-vintage country almost an hour after the seem- EXPECTED. SOME PLAYERS SAT QUIETLY ON WOODEN cation in the following club perched among the denud- DOWN: Australia’s ingly endless media BENCHES, THE MUSIC AND BANTER THAT ANNOUNCED morning’s edition of The Times. ed hills outside Chelmsford, and Justin Langer falls after conferences, I propped myself, The hastily drafted article out- surrounded by nothing but farm completely spent, against the THE END OF MOST TEST MATCHES NOTICEABLY lined a raft of shortcomings in country that exhaled the rank receiving a bouncer doorway to the Australian dress- ABSENT. BUT WITH EACH PASSING LUGGAGE RUN, THE the Australians’ preparation, in breath of blood and bone. Either from England pacer ing room. I knew that, given ATMOSPHERE WITHIN SEEMED TO WARM their acumen, and in their will- that, or the resort’s effluent Steve Harmison during what had just been lost, there ingness to honestly self-critique. tanks had ruptured. Whatever Day Three of the Oval was no chance of gaining admis- tive is a betrayal of their life’s nearest pub. It concluded that the only area the cause, it was emblematic of Test on September 10, sion. But neither could I depart cause. But players readily accept ‘So you gunna resign?’ I in which they had excelled was the Australians’ predicament. 2005 in London. the ground and begin the tour’s the risk of losing is writ large in asked, trying unconvincingly to in blaming their failings on any- Powering through the lobby final stretch of writer’s confine- the contract of competing. channel the self-importance of a one, indeed everyone, bar one evening, in an attempt to PICS/GETTY IMAGES ment until I had a column from As Justin Langer once serious journalist. Ponting themselves. outrun the stench, I heard a the skipper in my keep. My philosophised, if the joy of tri- turned quickly, wearing a The assessment was deliberately familiar voice beckoning me hopes would lift fleetingly every umph provides the game’s pained scowl, before recognising caustic, in the knowledge that from a corner table deep in the time the wooden door swung greatest feeling, then the regret the gallows humour. If nothing open, but sink back when it of losing must be next best. else, it allowed us to establish BOOK EXTRACT: THE WRONG LINE yielded nothing more than team Because if you’re not experienc- eye contact. support staff stacking cricket ing either of those, it means ‘And ya reckon I’d announce few, if any, members of Ricky otherwise deserted lounge bar. bullshit county game that’s not marriage. William Blake’s spiritual call stand. Which meant celebra- AN AUSTRALIAN RADIO bags in the corridor in prepara- you’ve been reduced to nothing that through my column?’ he Ponting’s team would read an Shane Warne was sharing a doing anyone any good. We Even before it got underway to arms ‘Jerusalem’, which had tions that stretched the length of ‘HARM’ISON: Ricky tion for the following day’s more consequential than a asked, through a grin that, until English newspaper. Certainly nightcap and a whine with fel- should be in London, having a at The Oval, the decisive final been set to music ninety years the island were then uncorked. NEWS REPORTER: ‘RICKY, homeward flight. spectator. then, I suspected the plastic sur- not one as venerable as The low spinner Stuart MacGill. And few days’ rest, and then hitting Test bore an evangelical aura. In before the decider began on For all the symbolism and YOU’RE THE FIRST Ponting calls for treatment During my catatonic wait, I gery he underwent after day one Times. But on the final morning one of them was keen to shoot the practice nets for the biggest keeping with idiosyncratic green and pleasant pasture in emotion attached to England’s AUSTRALIAN CAPTAIN after taking a blow on the In the room... tried to sketch out the series at Lord’s had removed.(Ramsey of the Test, I emerged from my the rancid breeze. match of our careers. We need to English tradition, an event of south London. It was sung with first Ashes success in a genera- face from Steve Harmison The brief glimpses I stole of the post-mortem I was to compile was ‘ghosting’ Ponting’s col- hotel room bound for the break- ‘Whadda ya make of all this?’ be lean and hungry when we get such profound national signifi- choral gusto before and after tion, there was something TO LOSE THE ASHES IN during the opening day of losers’ camp revealed a picture overnight by running the big umn) fast room at the same moment Warne said, picking up his drink to The Oval. cance demanded its own cheesy each day’s play. At the beginning vaguely ridiculous about a ENGLAND IN TWENTY the 2005 Ashes at Lord’s not nearly as funereal as I moments, the defining contests, ‘As good a place as any,’ I sug- the opening batsman in the and leaning in across the table. ‘Too many of our blokes just soundtrack. Curiously, the and end of every session. And it dozen adult peers-in-waiting YEARS. ARE YOU GOING on July 21. expected. Some players sat qui- over in my mind. I drew a blank. gested. ‘But maybe not tonight. adjoining room was headed for ‘This whole mess.’ The question aren’t pulling their weight. And imminent return of the Ashes was even played on radio with a jumping up and down in unison, etly on wooden benches, the I had seen so little live cricket I’d rather we go with the usual the team bus. ‘Saw your piece in was rendered rhetorical by his the coach is the worst offender. I was assigned patriotic respect usually frosted in tickertape, in delirious TO RESIGN?’ PONTING music and banter that between typing stints I may as clichés, so I can get a head start The Times this morning,’ Langer unwillingness to grant me right mean, what’s he done to fix all reserved for Sir Cliff Richard’s worship of a trophy roughly the WAS INITIALLY PER- announced the end of most Test well have been home in on that sleep.’ said as he caught me up in the of reply. these problems? Nothin’ except annual Christmas ditty. Fervour size of an eggcup. PLEXED, THEN ANNOYED. matches noticeably absent. But Melbourne. Or asleep. [email protected] corridor. He glanced around ‘It’s just horse shit, the whole leave cricket balls lying around was also the only rational expla- The post-match media con- with each passing luggage run, I made a mental note to buy a furtively to satisfy himself thing,’ he continued, replacing during training drills and call a nation for fans handing over ference was packed and restless ‘I DON’T KNOW, MATE, the atmosphere within seemed DVD box set of the 2005 Ashes nobody was peeking through his drink on the bleached-pine team meeting every twenty min- £300 for a seat at the series cli- when Ponting strode in, and YOU TELL ME,’ THE CAP- to warm.