Jhakas | Sanjay Jha
When Alastair Cook finally saw the defiance of Mike Hussey scoop up in his hands off a turning delivery from Graeme Swann , he knew he had become part of British folklore. It always feels heady to be part of a camera moment that will be indelible, repeated ad nauseam in slow motions at prime time. The Australians were totally outclassed in what was the clincher match at Oval, London of a tantalizing thriller of an Ashes. Even more so than last clash in England, because no matter what, the previous Australian team was actually a better side and was expected to win. The 2009 contest was relatively evenly matched even if the Oz carry that insouciant air of trademark arrogance about them.
The defining moment actually happened several weeks ago, when the unlikely last wicket-pair of James Anderson and Monty Panesar played out 69 balls in the First test making a daylight mockery of Australian bowling and showing incredible steel not usually associated even with English middle-order. Continue reading below
Nail-biting Australian captain Ricky Ponting was perceptibly riled with everything, somewhat understandable perhaps, his frustration getting the better of his equanimity.
That one resolute indestructible wall-like obduracy of England was to follow Australia like the Dark Lord surreptitiously does Harry Potter. Clearly, it hurt that the arch foe had not been deservingly vanquished. It's human. But victory began to look like a deceptive mirage and soon it was Andrew Strauss who was cracking the whip. It was Michael Clarke who held the fort together in the vital Third Test after England had scored that epic upset at Lord's.
Although the Australians massacred the poor Poms in the Fourth Test to level the series 1-1 ( which ideally should have been 2-2) one felt a niggling suspicion that something was amiss. That something would give. When Stuart Broad made a mince-meat of the Australian middle-order with a fairy-tale spell, the writing was not just on the wall, it was on Ponting's face as well, appropriately bruised and bloodied.
In the real moments that mattered, none of the great experience of winning heroes of the past shone through. Katich, Watson, Ponting andClarke are all seasoned pros who have triumphed against odds. Or have seen Adam Gilchrist , Shane Warne, Matt Hayden and Justin Langer defy the law of gravity and averages to pull off miraculous wins, time after time.
What made the Australian teams of yesteryears extraordinary was not just their ability to pull off incredible surprises. But to make winning a tiresome habitual reflex action. They made miracles consistently. It was magic.
The English were truly brilliant. A cool-headed captain in great knick is an awesome start (literally an opener Strauss). But what impressed about England was the splendidly professional approach to a mentally excruciating series. Strauss avoided getting into a verbal jamboree, and the rest focused on the task at hand, session after session, on field. Even the on-field histrionics were restricted to good gamesmanship.
No slur, no sledge, no subtle digs, we are British, please! It worked. Shane Warne was left regretting that the Oz have become too soft on the texture. Too bad, friend. And Kevin Pietersen was not even playing.
The analysis and assessment will continue for a while. Bad selection (no spinners), unlucky run-outs, Phil Hughes's insipid form, and the unending grief of always work-in-progress Brett Lee; his ankles, hamstring , knees and whatever is left of his torso under reconstruction. But the end result was a decisive 197-run rout.
Ponting once told me that the secret of his unassailable tough mind-set was that he always prepared to play every match as if the Australians were No. 2. Now he has an unfamiliar course chartered out for him.
The Australians have slipped to an inglorious No. 4 in Test rankings. He will have to fight harder than ever before to lift the sagging shoulders of his team-mates. How Punter responds will determine the future of a team that once was the greatest we ever saw.
