Greg Baum is chief sports columnist and associate editor with The Age
Andrew Bogut is a formidable basketballer, who played a manful role in Australia's gallant tilt at the windmills in Rio. He is also, more than most sportspeople, socially engaged. I could say, quirkily, doubtfully, provocatively engaged, but he would say the same of my world view.
What a difference a day-nighter makes.
Cricket is a game of cosmic connections, or coincidences, as you will, of mysterious causes and effects. Shine will make a ball swing. But not always, and not predictably. Almost any substance will make it shine. Out-of-form players, who can least afford unplayables and shockers, cop them. If Richard Kettleborough says it's out, it is. If Aleem Dar says it's out, it's not.
Suddenly, Australia could do no wrong, or not much. From consecutive balls in the middle of this day, Peter Handscomb scored the first of his 54 impressive debut runs and Usman Khawaja the 100th of his epic 138 not out, and both brought the Adelaide Oval crowd to their feet. Even Matt Renshaw's 10 had been worth a mini-ovation; it had defused the new ball's threat, forestalled another collapse and made all that followed possible. It was that sort of day.
Faf du Plessis's hundred was two masterpieces in one, of defiance in the face of notoriety, but equally of technique and temperament.
Between overs, Matt Renshaw dashed hither and thither from his first slip eyrie, ferrying caps for bowlers, delivering compliments and encouragements. If a thick edge had to be retrieved from boundary rope, off he obligingly went, but perhaps resisting the urge to sprint, for this was Test cricket, after all.
It's been a sour week for sugar. First, multi-media identity Peter Fitzsimons released The Great Aussie Bloke Slim-down, a book detailing how he made himself half the man he was by giving up sugar and alcohol. Sugar, we get. Then the Grattan institute proposed a tax on sugary drinks, as way to reduce obesity and/or raise revenue. All the while, Faf du Plessis was giving mint confectionary and its agency to a cricket ball a bad press, made worse by his refusal to say anything about it.
When Trevor Hohns awoke, his head was throbbing. Groaning, he hauled himself into the sitting position. Bit by bit, the room came into focus. Paper was strewn everywhere, crumpled and torn. A whiteboard in one corner was covered in thick red crosses and lines, also something that trickled. Underneath it, sitting on top of a pile of pizza boxes, was an Under 19 tour handbook and a sheaf of cricinfo print-outs.
For so long, the Australian cricket team's hallmark has been its swagger and braggadocio ... but no longer after Tuesday's surrender to South Africa in the second Test.
Since Australian cricket doesn't know whether it is Arthur or Martha, then at least let the choice between young Artie and little Mattie.
Search pagination
Save articles for later.
Subscribe for unlimited access to news. Login to save articles.
Return to the homepage by clicking on the site logo.