England set impossible mission in Hamilton but will the Brisbane rain save India?
Day Three: New Zealand v England, Seddon Park
NEW ZEALAND 347 and 453
ENGLAND 143 and 18–2 (trail by 640 runs)
“Rain, Rain, Go Away” so begins an old English nursery rhyme of memories past and for the present day or indeed a cold, dark, bleak and ironically bone dry Sunday 15th into Monday 16th December here in middle England, a mantra for a faraway summer and cricketing wonderland on the other side of the world. Unless of course you’re an Indian cricketer or fan of their national team as only the rain will save them in the 3rd Test Match in Brisbane and with fair winds and clear skies forecasted across the Tasman Sea in Hamilton only Tom Cruise and his Impossible Mission Force can save England or perhaps, and I realise this is a stretch but after watching cricket through the night for days and nights on end you begin to dream the dreams of dreamers and believe anything is possible, an exorcist with a bucketful of holy water and a penchant for hitting a triple century in the New Zealand sunshine.
“Coming in to bat for England, please welcome, Father Merrin”
“The Power of Christ compels YOU!”
“The Power of Christ compels YOU!”
Ah, sorry about, bad tangent. Comes with the territory when watching cricket through the night. The actual cricket? England and India are in deep, deep trouble, and Ben Stokes is injured again. Anyone know a reliable exorcist?
With heavy rain falling in Hamilton and a 90 minute delay to the day’s play I turned my immediate attention to Brisbane and after a much briefer weather delay, Aussie wicket-keeper batsman and last summer’s Ashes pantomime villain Alex Carey quickly raced to a half century, Mitchell Starc came and departed even quicker under the spell of the magic man Jasprit Bumrah and at 435–8 and with almost Germanic or Swiss precision for timing, the rain began to tumble again in Brisbane as the revised start time approached across the Tasman Sea in Hamilton.
A pattern for the day was set: the moody dark clouds hanging over Hamilton would soon be replaced with skies more akin to summer and in every break in play I’d channel hop back to Brisbane to see the players rushing from the field to evade the next rain shower in Australia. Time and again a small passage of play would see a handful of runs and a couple of wickets, first for an Australian team now all out for a 1st innings total of 445, before India would crumble quickly to 6–2 (rain delay) 22–3 (rain delay) and 44–4 (guess what? rain delay) before I’d return for the last time just before 7am local time here in England for the clearing of covers, the mopping up of the outfield once more, a resumption in play, a handful of runs and, the rain began to fall from a Brisbane sky once more and play called for the day with India 51–4, trailing by 394 runs on 1st innings and with more rain showers forecasted for days 4 and 5, hoping the weather will save them to enter the Boxing Day Test at the MCG all square at 1–1.
But the story of the day was being written in Hamilton, stories, plural, in truth, and in a reversal of the batting order we have New Zealand setting England a world record 4th innings run chase of 658 to win (and a mammoth 240 more runs than has ever been scored in a final innings to win a Test Match in the entire storied history of this grand old game) and in 6 painful to watch day ending overs, seeing Ben Duckett getting himself out to an ugly swipe of a shot that presented soon to be retiring Tim Southee with an early retirement present and soon after, poor old Zak Crawley fell to the wizarding spell of Matt Henry for the sixth time in succession on a Kiwi tour that can’t end quickly enough for the England opener. Granted a “life” when he overturned a LBW decision when on 4, one run later he wasn’t so lucky and was also incredibly unlucky and seething with cricketing life as he trudged, chuntering angrily and disconsolately, all the way back to the Pavilion. Both dismissals rather summed up England’s day and this entire 3rd Test Match.
Before this and still working in reverse order we had the excitement and another guard of honour for Tim Southee as he chased a 6 hitting record way, way above the call of duty for a legendary fast bowler more at home with a cricket ball in his hand rather than a bat, Mitchell Santner, Tom Blundell and Daryl Mitchell all made hay with the bat in the late afternoon Hamilton sunshine as an exhausted set of front line England bowlers were replaced by Shoaib Bashir, Jacob Bethell, Harry Brook and Joe Root, and Kane Williamson, albeit the recipient of extra lives when on 73 and 86, notched his 33rd Test Match century and a remarkable 7th in Hamilton alone where he has a staggering average in the high 90's! Yet more highlights for the greatest batsman New Zealand has ever produced and another century I was lucky enough to watch live.
King Kane Williamson — A Master Batsman Supreme.
Much earlier in the day saw the ugly spectacle of Ben Stokes limping from the field of play with a seeming recurrence of the damage to his left hamstring he injured in the English summer and one worries once more for the long term fitness of the 33 year old England captain. India and Australia await next year and I’m sure he’ll be fit to face both, but as a bowler? I’m not so sure. This then leads to how he fits into the team and more importantly, the make up of the team with the an extra bowler needed to take his place and the obvious question of who will be left out? I would make an immediate case for Stokes to bat at number 3 and although this would be incredibly unfair on Jacob Bethell the kid has time on his side and, as I’m always keen to reinforce in these journals when talking about the future of English cricket or even the scandalous way Ben Duckett surrendered his wicket to an ugly slog when he has two days to bat sensibly, and entertainingly for a worldwide audience, it’s lucky for all concerned I’m not Ben Stokes or the Chief of Selectors for England Cricket.
Stokes left the field in visible distress. Get well and fit again soon, skipper.
We have an Ashes to win in 12 months time.
From the rain of Brisbane to the needing of holy water, Tom Cruise, impossible missions, retiring legends and a still playing legend scoring Test Match centuries for fun, we return in conclusion, as we must on such an upside down day down under to the beginning of the day, and a stinker of an opening session of dour and slow cricket only enlivened by the hardy souls within England’s well meaning “Barmy Army” and the trumpeter with a song for every occasion. As England bowled brilliantly this morning to restrict Kane Williamson and Rachin Ravindra to only a handful of runs in the delayed first hour of play, a somewhat sparse crowd and a mad dog Englishman beneath a nest of duvets and a hot water bottle for company were royally entertained as the travelling band and their trumpeter ran through their songbook. First up, as is tradition, (and not a personal favourite of mine for many and varied reasons) was of course “Jerusalem” before, in no particular order other than when I could find my pen and notebook within my mountain of warming duvets: “Daddy Cool” by Boney M, “Summer Nights” from the musical Grease, “Always Take The Weather With You” by Crowded House, “Cars” (for England fast bowler Brydon Carse) by Gary Numan and finally, for Yorkshire’s finest Joe Root and Harry Brook, “Hey Jude” by The Beatles and “Annie’s Song” or “You Fill Up My Senses” by John Denver. Hey Jude is certainly in honour of Joe Root and I believe the John Denver classic is too (I haven’t checked and who needs the certainty in a world so uncertain as this?) but I note it as the original lyrics are of course twisted and rather than
“You fill up my senses, like a night in a forest.
Like the mountains in springtime, like a walk in the rain.
Like a storm in the desert, like a sleepy blue ocean.
You fill up my senses, come fill me again”.
you have the “Greasy Chip Butty Song” from Yorkshire’s Sheffield United and
“You light up my senses, like a gallon of Magnet.
Like a packet of Woodbines, like a good pinch of snuff.
Like a night out in Sheffield, like a greasy chip butty.
Oh Sheffield United. Come thrill me again”.
This, dear readers, is what happens when you watch the England cricket team through the night…you start quoting 1970’s horror films, looking to the IMF for a sporting miracle and quoting the Barmy Army! I envy those mad and crazy souls travelling around the world watching cricket from the ovals of New Zealand, the dust bowls of Pakistan and India or the cathedrals of sport across the Tasman Sea in Australia. Envy is my sin, David, and there I go quoting horror movies again.
The Barmy Army will all be present and correct in five hours from now at the time of writing, and so will I, a fresh round of raspberry jam on toast next to a piping hot cup of tea and sat beneath a mound of duvets with a hot water bottle and the ghost of Father Merrin for company.
I need an exorcist anyway, India need a Brisbane full of rain, and England need a miracle from Yorkshire’s finest.
“Na Na Na Nananana, Nannana, Joe Root…”
What larks.
Thanks for reading. After watching England “through the night” I’ve turned these day by day ramblings into three self-published books to date, the first of which pictured below covers (in the fifth and final part) England’s last tour to New Zealand in early 2023:
"Ashes to Ashes" - link to Amazon
Whilst you’re kindly here and have read this far down a wild ride even for me, here is my latest self-published book (published 8th December). Free to read on Kindle “Unlimited” or treat yourself to the book. It’s rather marvellous even if I say so myself and would look a pip and a dandy all wrapped up beneath a loved one’s tree this Christmas…
"My Ironbridge Summer" - link to Amazon
Thanks for reading. I hope this message in a bottle in The Matrix finds you well, prospering, and the right way up in an upside down world.