A properly prepped, balanced and weaponised team finally had the chops to expose Australia’s weaknesses
Na-na na-na na-na na na na, Duckett’s on the piss. On the piss. Duckett’s on the piss.
Don’t take me home, please don’t take me home. And while we’re here, stand up, stand up, please do stand up if you love a two-day Test on a pitch as green and ridged as an under-ripe roasting potato. For an hour in mid-afternoon on day two at the MCG England’s top order finally did the thing. The clocks stopped. Dogs miaowed. Birds flew backwards across the sky. And Test cricket turned into darts.
This was probably always coming in some form. The universe tends toward entropy. In England all things are, in the end, shirtless men singing Sweet Caroline. As England’s openers set off in pursuit of 175 to win this fourth Test at the midway point of a strange, restless day of fast-forward cricket, junk cricket, cricket off its meds, there was a sense of barriers dissolving, of a top order intent not just on playing the old favourites, but playing them all at the same time.
Ben Duckett kicked things off with three fresh-air swipes in his first five balls. He crunched Mitchell Starc off his pads. He whirled his bat like a club. He was almost bowled, almost caught and almost caught-and-bowled.
