Ashes 2013: Nathan Lyon's Bravery Turns the Match for Australia

There are medieval kings that respected their slaves more than Kevin Pietersen respects Nathan Lyon. If you wanted further evidence of this fact, already proven during Pietersen’s Old Trafford century, then you need not look further than the first ball he faced at Chester-le-Street. 

Lyon had just taken the wicket of Jonathan Trott, a wicket that quite frankly may as well have been strapped to an alien invader falling from the sky, such was the randomness of its arrival. Totally against the run of play, totally against discernible logic and totally out of the blue. 

Anyhow, Trott’s departure brought Pietersen to the crease. A man certainly not shy of imposing himself, but all the same his first shot brought surprise from even his most vocal advocates. Michael Vaughan on BBC commentary said: “I am not having that. I don’t care how great you are.” 

It was a flighted delivery on middle stump that Pietersen charged towards, before heaving over the infield on the leg side for two ugly runs. It was a shot of utter contempt, total disdain and bizarre disregard for the condition of the pitch or state of the match. Pietersen was snotting in his metaphorical handkerchief called Nathan. 

Two overs later, Pietersen threw the handkerchief in the mud and defecated on it when he battered Lyon for back-to-back boundaries. After his century in the previous Test, Pietersen said, via Sky Sports, “I attack spinners all the time, I don’t like to let spinners settle.” Well, he can certainly walk the talk. 

The afternoon drinks break followed and Lyon’s spell was hastily ended after four overs, and just seven balls at Pietersen. Michael Clarke was protecting his spinner from Pietersen’s wrath, just as he did at Old Trafford. Protecting him like a father protects a vulnerable daughter. 

But the thing is, spinners get hit. It’s part of the job. Every spinner that has ever lived, be it Shane Warne of Australia or Bobby Parkinson of the Rotherham Rompers, for every turning, dipping, fizzing ripper that they bowl, there’s a story of misery behind it. An over that went for 20, a spell that went for 80, a ball that got hit into the neighbouring county, a long-hop that smashed an allotment greenhouse. 

The sun rises in the east and sets in the west, a day is 24 hours long, and spinners get hit. Such is life. 

However, for a spinner the juxtaposition of the role is that flighting the ball is both their greatest weakness and their greatest strength. Tossing the ball above a batsman’s eye line is the secret to success, but it’s a secret that comes at a cost, and thus takes bravery and courage to do. 

So when Lyon returned to the attack after just a seven-over hiatus, with Pietersen still at the crease, it felt like an important moment. At Old Trafford Lyon was mauled by Pietersen and reduced to a bit-part role for the remainder of the innings. This comeback spell held the key to Lyon’s, and perhaps Australia’s, day. 

If he refused to be brave and allowed himself to be dominated by Pietersen, he would spend the rest of the day under a helmet at short leg or chewing gum in the outfield. But if he chose to be brave, there was a chance he could spend it playing a crucial role in a Test match for Australia. 

He chose the latter. 

The first four balls of his comeback over were all hit firmly to fielders by Pietersen; you could sense his mind whirring, his aggressive instinct ticking. Lyon had three men out sweeping on the leg side: long-on, deep mid-wicket and deep backward square-leg, he had not a single boundary-rider on the offside. 

The fifth ball was given plenty of air, and courageously pitched outside off stump—the ball invited the drive towards the sparse offside field, and Pietersen responded. He pushed hard and fast at the ball. But it didn’t turn. It went on with the arm and caught the outside edge before being held well by Brad Haddin. Pietersen didn’t even wait for the umpire’s decision and walked. 

Goliath had fallen. Nathan was victorious. 

Two further wickets came in the day. Another flighted delivery tempted Ian Bell into an attacking shot—a shot that failed to clear Ryan Harris at mid-off. And then Jonny Bairstow, sweeping from around the wicket, was trapped LBW. 

Lyon finished with 4-42. That’s four wickets taken by a spinner, not an exotic spinner, a plain no-nonsense off spinner, on day one of a Test match in Durham. They weren’t even four easy wickets—Trott, Pietersen, Bell and Bairstow—three, four, five and six—he single-handedly gutted England.

Lyon has quite comfortably the best record of a post-Warne Australian spinner—it’s amazing to think that he was dropped for a 19-year-old just four Tests ago. Although, with his wiry frame, gangly gait and thinning hair, he looks more suited the groundsman he was four years previously, than a Test match cricketer. 

Moreover, in an era where Australia’s public complain of their players being overly pampered divas with more hair products than runs and more bling than wickets, Lyon has the potential to become Australia’s working-class hero. A trier who is in fact better than a trier. An ordinary cricketer who is in fact better than an ordinary cricketer. An inspiration to those for whom the world appears conspired against them. 

Speaking to Sky Sports at the close of play, Lyon said of the Pietersen challenge, “I love it. He took the game to me and I was lucky to come out on top today.”

He was being modest. To bowl the delivery he did to snare Pietersen, with the field he had set, to the man who had inflicted so much damage and could quite easily do so again, was not luck. No, luck is not the right word. It was bravery. Bravery that turned the day, and perhaps the Test match, in Australia’s direction.