Ashes 2013: 'Job Done' for England

At 6.55 p.m., England’s bowling coach David Saker made his way down to the fine-leg boundary where Tim Bresnan was fielding. The pair chatted briefly, then Saker nodded his head in acknowledgement and patted Bresnan heartily on the back before heading back up to the England dressing room. 

We won’t ever know what exactly was said between the two of them, but what the nod of the head and the pat on the back said was clear: “Job done.” 

The job, of course, was winning the match, which two hours before, with Australia 147-1 in pursuit of  299, was far from a foregone conclusion. In fact, England’s hopes appeared to be unraveling when David Warner and Usman Khawaja made quick progress after tea and with every run England’s grip on the game seemed to be slipping. 

Yet when Saker greeted Bresnan on the boundary rope with the sun splashing lengthy shadows across Chester-le-Street, and with the packed terraces in drunken delirium, Australia had collapsed to 190-7 and the match was all but done. Australia had lost six of 70 since tea, and would go on to lose nine of 104 in the session. 

The jubilant celebrations would follow and the champagne would flow, but Bresnan and Saker were just bowler and coach sharing a warm, professional and friendly acknowledgement of victory. 

It was, after all, Bresnan who took the wicket that turned this Test—that of Warner, with a sharp delivery that jagged away from the left-hander and found his edge. Once he departed, the whole feeling of the occasion changed. 

Suddenly the England fielders were buzzing around like flies trapped in a lamp shade, swarming on the ball after every delivery, chirping in the batsmen’s ear and whizzing throws in to Matt Prior’s gloves.

The crowd fed off England’s energy, upon which England fed some more. A crescendo of noise accompanied each bowler's approach to the crease, and when moments before dot balls were gold dust, all of a sudden anything but a wicket was a disappointment. 

And, of course, with the situation as it was, there was only really one man for whom this afternoon could then belong. In the Oval Ashes Test of 2009, Broad took 5-19 in 47 balls. At Chester-le-Street in 2013, Broad took 6-20 in 45 balls. Eerily similar but demonstratively representative of Broad’s increasing tendency for Flintoff-esque spells of magic when his team most needs them.

Broad at his best is an electrifying sight. Every ball is an event, every act a drama. He has the rare ability to instill the belief that there is an air of inevitability about every wicket he takes. If Broad was forced to bowl blindfolded with his shoe laces tied together, he’d probably still have picked up six wickets. 

When Broad clicks, everything seems right about his bowling. He runs into the crease with a bouncy spring, his head bobbing with the rhythm of his approach like a Churchill Dog on steroids. His delivery stride is smooth and coherent. His gangly legs and arms, often sprawled out like an ant under a young boy's microscope, suddenly move together in perfect harmony—like a puppet on the strings of a particularly kind sporting god. 

There’s a beautiful fluidity to it. His coil and hang time are part of a motion rather than a forced process. His landing feet kiss the surface of the crease and his spikes gain just enough traction on the dry turf before his back hip and leg lash round as he rotates through his action. The ball then snaps out of the end of his fingers and hits the pitch like a firecracker, exploding off a length, jagging off the seam and whipping through to the keeper with effortless ease. 

The evening session at Chester-le-Street was the antithesis of the anti-climactic denouement of England’s Ashes retaining draw at Old Trafford.

The sun consistently fought an ultimately winning battle with the clouds for prominence, Shane Watson was LBW, there was use of the DRS, dropped catches, missed run outs, a sardonic appearance of the light meters, Joe Root even bowled, 109 runs were scored and, most pertinently, nine wickets fell in an epic and utterly chaotic two-hour and 36-minute, 35.3 over-long session.

Michael Clarke’s men can draw comfort from the fact England won this Test match more than Australia lost it. For almost four days the two teams were basically even, and only on the evening of the fourth day did England’s bowling brilliance separate the two sides. 

Perhaps Australia’s deep problem is that they have forgotten how to win Test matches. It is, after all, more than eight months since their last victory. But England certainly haven’t forgotten, and the way they reacted to the pressure they were under immediately after tea was telling. 

With Australia 147-1, England’s plan-based formula appeared rigid. But Alastair Cook refused to panic. His unmoving insouciance is at times alarming and can on occasion be costly, but Cook maintained faith in his method and refused to be thrown off kilter. 

His decision to bowl Bresnan after tea surprised some, but as always with England it was based in logic. Bresnan is reliable and safe. He drys runs up and builds pressure. With Australia’s run rate beginning to spiral out of control, Bresnan was a sensible choice, a logical choice, the right choice. 

It was in retrospect a choice that led to the beginning of Australia’s collapse, something that will no doubt be lost in amongst deserved praise for Broad. But Bresnan, with Saker patting him on his back, will no doubt be aware of the key role he played in today’s drama.