England and emasculated Australia have exchanged cultural identities

The conflict between the past and the present was in the starkest evidence here. Take Smith, for example, a committed vegan who in 2021 launched his own brand of oat milk. And compare him to Jeff Thomson, who was watching in Edgbaston and who, in the words of the late Bob Willis, delighted during his fast-bowling heyday to “see blood and tooth on the pitch.” Or take Khawaja, for example, who lobbied for Cricket Australia to stop hosting matches on January 26, Australia Day, arguing that indigenous communities might be offended by the colonial overtones. And place him next to Merv Hughes, another sentiment-shattering keen observer of the field, who, when told once by Javed Miandad that he looked like a “fat bus driver,” replied, “Tickets, please” after sacking the batter. from Pakistan.

When Rod Marsh died last year, Thomson lamented that Australian cricket had lost its character, that the environment was sterile and robotic compared to the heights of 1970s success. It was a change he found hard to comprehend. How could he, an ocker averaging about one profanity per sentence, have given way in the space of 40 years to someone like Pat Cummins, a bleeding-hearted liberal all too happy to be pictured in a hoodie made of seaweed?

Cummins has, until now, been utterly unmoved by any criticism from the outside. And why should it be otherwise? His team are the test world champions and, according to official rankings, he has the three best batsmen in the world at his disposal. He may not have looked it when No. 1 Marnus Labuschagne bested Jonny Bairstow for a golden duck, but the captain has also instilled some of the stubbornness of yesteryear. Every time Australia threatened to reel, they put up the walls, frustrating the England bowlers to the point that neither James Anderson nor Ollie Robinson claimed a wicket for their effort.

Still, England could at least boast of having a monopoly on innovation. Stuart Broad, who has been working his swinger assiduously, got an instant reward for the ruse when he knocked out Labuschagne. And where other captains might have pushed the field back, exasperated to see Travis Head repeatedly hit Moeen Ali over the head for six, they kept the shot close and ultimately drew the miss. It is not partisan to suggest that even on a frustrating day on the pitch, England followed the most enterprising tactics.

Head is perhaps the only figure who resembles a 1970s heritage compatriot, with his lush mustache and pugnacious streak. But the similarity is only superficial. Australia is no longer the scary foe of yore, preferring a shot of energy drink to the beer that could be glimpsed dripping from Hughes’s lips in those Castlemaine XXXX ads. It’s a mirrored evolution in the middle, with menace and sled replaced by courtesy all around.

England must not be deluded into thinking that this makes Australia easier to beat. The opposition’s power of perseverance is such that they have withstood two days of heavy artillery and still hold every chance of victory in this Test. But the distinctive identities of the sides have changed. For once, it’s England’s turn to play the aggressors, perfecting a heady, belligerent brand of cricket that has left Australia looking, dare I say it, a bit emasculated.