Last in the Tin Bath

by David Lloyd

  Cricket tends to go in cycles and perhaps this was reflective of a trend. Earlier that summer, and indeed in the away series against the same opposition in the spring of 2013, New Zealand showed how tricky they could make it for England when they tightened up. Life became very difficult. In emulating this, Alastair Cook’s team were always well positioned when the tricky moments arose. Throughout the five matches they invariably came out on top in them. Part of that reason was because Australia had suffered nine Test defeats in the previous twelve-month period, whereas England were used to winning.

  Previously, not enough has been made of home advantage when it has come to our international series. Recall the pitch presented to Sri Lanka, for the one-off Test in 1998, as evidence of an overly hospitable welcome to touring teams. I, for one, have never viewed preparing surfaces to suit one’s owns strengths as being unethical. The sluggish ones of that summer proved a test for Australians who learnt their trade in conditions where pace and bounce prevail. This request by England – their away victory twelve months earlier in India, where slow pitches are king, contrasting to the Aussie whitewashing there – was coupled with Australia playing into home hands. When confronted with the best off-spinner in the world, what on earth were they doing playing so many left-handed batsmen? It was no surprise that Graeme Swann finished as his side’s leading wicket-taker with 26. The Australians had no answer to him, really.

  That was one of the major differences between the home and away series. Once Lehmann had his feet under the table, he made explicit instructions to his players not to allow Swann to settle. Where once they were apprehensive, suddenly they were getting after him, hitting him to all parts. He certainly wasn’t going to get pitches to his liking over there. Australia were confident England weren’t going to get the runs on the board, and that would further pressurise him. They weren’t shy of letting him know prior to a ball being bowled that they were coming after him, either.

  In fact, in a reprise of pre-2010-11, lots of Australians had lots to say. They were right behind their team and guys were selling yellow T-shirts emblazoned with ‘Stuart Broad Is A Shit Bloke’. There were plenty of people in the queue to part with their dollars when I walked past on the opening day at the Gabba. It’s a well-known fact that Australia is home to some of the most poisonous and deadly creatures on the planet, and someone appeared to have rounded them up and shoved them through the turnstiles at the Vulture Street End of the ground.

  These predators tore into England like sharks, and having had a face-to-face altercation with a Great White that December, I can tell you it’s not pleasant. For some reason, our bosses at Sky Sports thought it was a good idea for Nasser Hussain and me to warm up for commentating on the second Test in Adelaide in unorthodox fashion. Blackpool Sea World with Dolly the Dolphin this was not. And for this excursion to Port Lincoln, I was thankful for choosing a slinky aluminium number. Never could I have imagined being so pleased at being caged up as they dropped us into the water near the Neptune Islands. Twice I went for a dip in the area in which these big fellas hunt seals and was shocked that the experts pipe heavy rock music into the water to attract them. Would you believe it? Like most Australians, these brutes could not get enough of AC/DC and Cold Chisel.

  At the Gabba, Broad’s treatment all stemmed from his refusal to walk in the first Test of ten back in July. He was hammered for standing his ground when, with England 232 runs ahead and the game finely balanced, his thick edge off Agar’s bowling flew to Michael Clarke at first slip via a deflection off wicketkeeper Brad Haddin. The furore was ridiculous. Let’s face it, all batters try their luck. There might be the odd exception, but I can’t think of one. People offered up Adam Gilchrist as a paragon of virtue, but he had long gone. If you want to talk in those terms, then you might as well talk about the 1960s and 1970s when 97 per cent of English cricketers walked.

  The game has changed. The modern player stands and waits for the umpire to make a decision. Broad was no different in allowing Aleem Dar the chance to judge the situation. Some people might want to twist that around and say that the batsman is cheating when he knows he’s hit it, but that’s how it is. I admit I was absolutely gobsmacked at the time. On commentary, the words just flowed out of my mouth. ‘What’s he doing?’ But casting Broad as some sort of Antichrist? I was mystified by the reaction. Clarke and Haddin didn’t walk in the match, either, a fact that was conveniently forgotten by the Aussie brethren. Recall the image of England celebrating, then calling for a review to confirm that Haddin had become James Anderson’s tenth victim of the match for a 14-run victory.

  Players don’t walk, even if they know that they’ve hit it, and in this instance in question, the umpire didn’t see it and it was a genuine mistake. The suggestion coming from some quarters that Broad should be disciplined was ludicrous. If he deserved a punishment, then there would have been a long queue in front of judge and jury.

  His office as Public Enemy Number One was strengthened when Lehmann went on an Australian radio station and joshed that crowds down under should ensure he went home crying. I’ve done umpteen of these knockabout interviews, and when heard in a broadcast situation when words can be put into context through tone, it is obviously a bit of banter. However, the same words appearing in print can look pretty ordinary and not befitting an international coach. Not that Broad is the kind of character to let things bother him. Typically, he claimed a five-wicket haul in the first innings of the series to a cacophony of boos. It was real pantomime stuff. The local Brisbane newspaper even refused to name him in their reports, such was his treachery.

  Things were going pretty well on that opening day, and there was certainly no sign of things to come when half a dozen Australian batsmen were dismissed for 132. What happened next was to set the tone for the five-match series. Whereas England were often five out, all out – usually in the face of a Mitchell Johnson onslaught – when Australia were five down, Brad Haddin came in. In this series, he was the immovable object.

  For some reason, the England lads felt the best way to unsettle Haddin was verbally. But he had something of the Steve Waugh syndrome about him because the more they chatted, the greater his desire to stick around and extend the conversation. His series reaped 493 runs – a phenomenal statistic for a No. 7, and one even more impressive when you consider that not one England player breached 300.

  It was perhaps when the tails of the two respective teams were batting that the differences in quality were most evident. Their bowlers’ speeds and disciplines were far superior to ours, and somehow they got the ball to swing. Perhaps you just needed that extra yard of pace to acquire that movement. They certainly made that argument plausible by consistently showing up their new-ball adversaries.

  From the mid-point on that opening day, we were absolutely spannered by Australia. Battered, bruised and bashed, the batsmen were unable to cope with that pace. There was no answer to it at all. Until that lad Ben Stokes came in and hit that wonderful hundred at Perth. There were no misgivings from him, and at twenty-two he appeared to be a wonderful find.

  I had very few problems with England being beaten by a better team. I had very few problems with the assessment that this Australian pace attack was the best doing the rounds on the international scene. England were being beaten fair and square, but when they were dismissed in 31.4 overs in Sydney, that was quite different. Commentating is such an instant process, you’re never searching for words, they just come out and you can’t take them back. ‘This is like watching a pub team,’ I said.

  The cricket was downright dire for the loyal folk who had travelled halfway around the world to see it. Believe me, my job is nowhere near as enjoyable when there is a gulf between the two teams either. On a personal slant, things did get better as the series concluded. Not least because Channel 9 – to whom I was seconded when not on air with Sky Sports – allowed me a stint on air with Bill Lawry, one of my commentating heroes, during the Melbourne match.

  I love th
e real Bill almost as much as the great mimic Billy Birmingham’s caricature. If you’re not familiar, Birmingham is the voice behind the Twelfth Man tapes – a take-off of Australian commentators that cannot help but raise chortles. Unfortunately, when I met the legendary Billy, as great an occasion as it was, he could not perfect an impersonation of me. And as for his Mark Nicholas, think Austin Powers. ‘Yeah, baby!’

  There was nothing groovy about England’s performance, though. The towel had gone in early and the performance would have rocked Andy Flower sideways. His team had been pummelled and now they’d had enough. He would have expected more resistance, more bloody-mindedness about performances. He would have been reeling that a team of his had played in that manner.

  Flower spoke of necessary change when addressing the English shortcomings in the series aftermath. One assumed he was referring to the make-up of the backroom staff, the preparation of the players, and the need for those players to play more county cricket. Not about his own position.

  As a team during the Flower era, England coped with just about everything thrown at them. A prime example is when we went to India to play on spinning pitches, lost the first Test but still came back and won 2-1.

  The one thing that hit us hard was pace, and Mitchell Johnson was terrifyingly good in his home conditions. To take 39 wickets was a phenomenal effort. Johnson is what you would call a confidence cricketer. Following his mid-year work with his mentor Dennis Lillee, it was evident that he was in a decent place with his bowling during the one-day series in England, when he rushed Jonathan Trott in particular. For Trott, that was the beginning of the end of what had been an accomplished career.

  One of the challenges that series presented – if not the major challenge – was replacing Graeme Swann. His excellent control allied to his wicket threat allowed England to play a four-man attack for the majority of the five years that followed Andrew Flintoff’s retirement in 2009. When Swann himself called it a day, I didn’t see anyone other than Monty Panesar who was going to bowl effective spin at Test level. Time will tell if Moeen Ali can follow a promising start with something sustainable over the long term.

  At the age of thirty-five, Swann’s top-level career did not have long to run when he quit mid-tour with the urn in Australian hands. Speaking with my coach’s hat on, I had absolutely no problem with him calling it a day when he did. I have never been one who has taken to players announcing in advance that they’re retiring at the end of a series or an impending season, because I believe once you make that announcement your ambition wanes. Once a player states that, I wouldn’t want him around the team. Had Swann stayed, I think it would have been an extra distraction.

  People posed questions on Twitter such as: ‘Why desert a sinking ship?’ Pardon me, but the ship had already sunk. This was a chance to get him out of the way and move on with what they’d got. I just couldn’t see any point of keeping on a lad whose body was telling him his race had been run. All of us players have been there: you wake up one morning and your mind is clear that you don’t want to do it anymore.

  Others suggested he should have shown unity in the light of Jonathan Trott’s early-tour departure. Codswallop! Everyone wished Trott the best in his recovery, but their decisions to depart were entirely unrelated and both undoubtedly for the best for individuals and team alike.

  England came away from that Ashes tour in need of rebuilding. Not only did coach Flower leave his position, but Pietersen was sacked as England began a new era. That is why, for the record, I would never have gone back to Trott as England did in 2014-15, as it served only to delay Adam Lyth’s opportunity when a series in the Caribbean would have been the perfect environment to break him in.

  CHAPTER 14

  Cleaning up our Act

  Apologies here for indulging my own theme but I really think life has come full circle. For I recognise that England have undergone a proper scrub up this year. They needed one too, because they had been pushed way back in the queue when it came to lots of current issues. My fear had been that English cricket would be completely left behind, and lots of areas need cleaning up.

  Sport is cyclical and there is no doubt that things were great for a while – Test top dogs for a full year between August 2011 and August 2012 lest we forget, a period in which we were also 20-over world champions – but equally, if you stand still others will delight in passing you by. For decades, England was the centre of the cricket world, a magnet for the very best players, but not any longer following a failure to grasp the Twenty20 nettle. We are no longer the primary hive of activity but a satellite stop-off among many.

  As other rival countries’ limited-overs cricket has strengthened and expanded through their 20-over Premier Leagues, ours has withered, and the evidence presented at the 2015 World Cup was that we had become a second division outfit as a consequence, as far back in the pack as we have ever been. Seldom few of our players have regular exposure to the best in the field, and the way to improve any cricketer is to challenge them against as high-class opponents as possible.

  With Andrew Strauss now at the helm, it is time to be brave and empower him to take England in a direction we have never headed before. This is not a journey that will be completed overnight, but the regime change and appointment of Trevor Bayliss as coach suggest we know where we want to head after the wreckage of the winter, and the 3-2 Royal London series win over New Zealand in June 2015 provided an enthralling start. Bayliss is a coach with a wonderful limited-overs record – taking Kolkata Knight Riders to two Indian Premier League titles, Sydney Sixers to Big Bash League and Champions League glory and New South Wales to 50-over successes. His credentials are excellent, and it’s about time we employed more out-of-the-box thinking. It’s early days yet, but I wouldn’t be surprised to see another specialist coach or two recruited for each format to work under the Australian. We certainly need to release the manacles that tell us ‘this is the way because it has always been the way’. To get level with the best in the world, you have to aim higher than they do – because they are moving forward at a rate of knots.

  There are already some excellent coaches in support, of course, and the presence of Paul Farbrace within the England set-up should not be underestimated. For a start, without him I’m not sure Strauss would have got his man. After all, Bayliss was only a month into a new two-year contract with New South Wales and had turned England down twice previously, before he finally agreed at the third time of asking. The bond the pair have after being involved in the terrorist attack in Lahore in March 2009 while working as coach and assistant coach for Sri Lanka is something you simply cannot measure. Their trust in and respect for each other is deep.

  Back on England’s tour of Sri Lanka in late 2007, Bayliss invited me over for a cup of coffee and a chat at the team hotel in Colombo. We just chewed the fat, but I did register what an impressive bloke he was. He possesses a natural ease about him, and everyone speaks highly of both his ability and attitude as a coach. No wonder he was shortlisted when the job ended up going to Peter Moores for a second time in 2014. Speak to the great Sri Lankan players like Kumar Sangakkara and Mahela Jayawardene and they have nothing but praise for him.

  Equally, Farbrace will be vital to this pairing, just as he had been at Yorkshire with Jason Gillespie. The bottom line is that players play and these men all seem to share the same ethos of allowing individuals to express themselves. It’s clear that Bayliss’s values are to work hard but enjoy it, and he encourages players to be themselves with no inhibitions. Indeed, those were his instructions to the new-look one-day team when he left Farbrace in charge of that series against New Zealand between accepting the job and arriving on these shores, and boy was it enjoyable to observe. Here were a group of players expressing themselves – and how. Here was an England team on the front rather than the back foot. The initial signs were that he will pave the way for the players and they will perform for him. Farbrace will be crucial in the whole bedding down process, and I’m talk
ing about the first year or so, not just the first few months. He knows results need to be good in the here and now, but there will be a longer vision too.

  Strauss has shown he’s not shy of making strong decisions by removing Peter Moores upon taking office. Unfortunately, results define how long a coach stays in position and Peter’s were not considered to be up to scratch.

  Of course, I know about the disappointment of losing an international coaching job before you feel your role has been fulfilled, but I would dismiss any notion that Moores and I suffered similar fates. He took over a Test team that was ranked second in the world and slipped to fifth in his first time in charge, and was moving in a similar direction again, for all the talk of his popularity within the dressing room. The team I inherited was nowhere near that level and the resources incomparable. Everything provided for an England coach in this day and age is set up for success. There are seemingly limitless amounts of cash to be invested, a player system that is run with counties as an afterthought, not the other way around, and a structure underneath the full team that is light years ahead of where we were in 1999.

  This is not to say I don’t have sympathy for Moores, a man who worked hard to demonstrate he deserved a second chance at international level by heading back to domestic cricket and delivering the County Championship title to Lancashire. He spoke about developing a young England team, although I’m not sure his remit was to win in three years’ time. You have to be successful in the present.