It is done and dusted. Before Christmas. Yet again. England endured once again one of those WACA tests. They have been losing on this ground since Dinosaurs used to roam around the earth. They have only ever won one Test in the western Australian outpost back in 1978 and last avoided defeat there in 1986. This is abysmal even by England's poor standards.
In many ways, the WACA always brings out my worst memories. I will describe only two recent ones:
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Ashes 2013-14 WACA test (13-17 December 2013)
In Ashes 2013-14, when Cooky got a first ball jaffa by Ryan Harris (it was 16th December 2013), my heart sulked and I wanted to be dead.
WACA test in 2013 made me an atheist. The moment when England's second innings began, I had never felt as excited as that before in my life. Cooky was my favorite test cricketer back then. He was playing his 100th test match and captaining England who was 2-0 down and the only hope of retaining the Ashes was to save the game by batting out 5 sessions. Cooky had never got a golden duck in tests before. He was the highest scorer in England's first innings(He got 72). It was GAME ON.
Ryan Harris starts with the first ball. There was a huge crack in the good length area at the WACA. Cooky was on strike. Harris (known as Rhino among his team-mates) starts running. The whole of Australia and the whole world was watching. Harris picks up the pace in the background clapping noise of the WACA. He goes past the umpire, his biceps brushing his ears and he delivers the ball. Then this happened:
"Did it hit the seam? Did it hit a crack? Did it swing after pitching? Whatever it did, the opening delivery Harris conjured for Alastair Cook in the second innings of the WACA Test was truly a collector's item. this was an offering of symbolic value far beyond the fact of its taking a most important wicket in an extraordinary way. It summed up how hard Australia had worked to give themselves a chance in the series, and how wondrously all that work paid off, with a little serendipity thrown in. For the rest of his life, Harris is entitled to dine out on this ball, just as Cook is entitled to have nightmares about it."
Harris ran so hard after the wicket as if he was about to take off to the moon. None was catching him. The crowd and commentators were exuberant. All I could hear was them saying, "Oh! STRAIGHT-AWAY" after I had heard the clinking of stumps. Cooky didn't even look back and just looked at the large screen. He was on his way back. Walk of shame. Here he was. Captain of the side who had to lead from the front to give England a chance of saving the Ashes. And he was gone for a first-baller. Life can be indeed cruel.
For me, it didn't stop there. I could almost hear my heart-beat beating so fast. I thought that I will get a heart-attack. I just put my head in pillow. I put the television on "Mute" and just started chanting, "it's just a game. it's just a game. it's just a game." like a madman. A part within me just died that moment. I had never hated everything on earth so badly. All I could do was utter the swear words for Australians in a non-stop manner. I was abusing and cursing God himself. How could he do that? Why did he do that? Why would he do that to me? Was it part of some grand plan made by him? Was Cooky's getting out related to some greater good of the universe? Will Cooky get more peace in after-life because of that golden duck? Then I couldn't keep it together and I just said, "Screw God. God doesn't exist. God shouldn't exist. And even if he does and he let this happen, I am done with him." I never felt so dejected in my life than that moment. The expectation was enormous. Ah! Expectations. They are the source of all the pain.
Australia regained the urn at WACA on December 17, 2013, after enduring 3 successive Ashes losses.
The only silver lining from that WACA test was: Ben Stokes made a brilliant test hundred before England lost. So, at least WACA did manage to give us an English Hero in the form of "Ben Stokes" who arguably is the most valuable player in the world right now. I will take that.
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Ashes 2017-18 WACA test (14-18 December 2017)
There was so much build-up to this match. England was as usual 2-nil down in the series. The good part was that they were the previous Ashes winners, so that meant that they only had to avoid defeat here to maintain a chance of retaining the urn. England had played well at Gabba and in the day-night test at Adelaide but just were unable to win key moments. Australia was not as good as everyone thought they would be. They just managed to hang on for a longer period and they looked like a team on the downhill in second innings in Adelaide. I had a genuine belief in my heart that England was only one session away from breaking Australian resistance.
I didn't want to feel like I did in 2013 WACA test. So, I made a pact with myself. I won't follow the ball-by-ball commentary or live action for this test match. Just an occasional fling at twitter or cricinfo. I won't watch the WACA test as it had brought so much trauma in 2006, 2010 and 2013. This was a place comparable to hell itself for me. Life seemed to be at its lowest point. Aussies used to murder the opposition at WACA. No matter how much they were struggling previously, at WACA Aussies used to bend the laws of nature itself to crush anyone who came in their way.
Because of my pact, I missed out a dream-filled day from England on day 1. England was 305-4 with David Malan making a scintillating hundred. Every time I watched the score I imagined him playing the shots against Starc, Hazlewood, Cummins, and Lyon. It appeased me. I really thought that this was the day England were going to turn it around. I envisioned a scoreline of England winning the Ashes 3-2. No team had won the Ashes from being 2-nil down in the last 90 years. So I thought that it was probably due anyway. Nature will conspire to make it happen. You know, nature just doesn't like anomaly like "never happened in 90 years". Bring on day 2!
It was day 2 when the hopes started to fade away. Though I was so happy for Jonny making his first Ashes ton, From a position of 368-4, England did what they always do. Explode. Hand over the advantage on a silver platter to Australia.
They got all out on 403 and hence lost a massive chance of batting Australia out of the match. Last 6 wickets adding a dreadful 35 runs. The score was undoubtedly competitive, but it was nowhere near safe. The pitch was dry, no sideways moment and England's quicks, though skillful, are medium pace at best. Australia ended the day 200 runs behind with seven wickets in hand. Smith on batting on 92.
All I could think that night was how England was going to get early morning breakthroughs and gain a handy lead of 50-60 runs which could be decisive on widening cracks of WACA. I was thinking how Steve Smith will be so alone in fighting it out with only Shaun Marsh as recognized batsman left. Next man in was Mitchell Marsh, who I have always thought as the worst test all-rounder to have ever played for Australia. I often used to joke with my brother about how Mitch Marsh was a waste of plane ticket and Australia could better use that ticket to send someone else, not necessarily a player who could at least bring something to the table.
Next day was December 16, 2017. The nemesis itself. Smith will bat out the whole day for Australia. The hope of regaining the Ashes will be sucked out after 16th December.
On this day, my worst fears came true. I promised myself that I won't watch the scoreboard for the whole day. I will keep myself busy with research work while silently wishing for England to do well. It was a tacit agreement between me and England. I won't watch the score and they will deliver me the good news at stumps.
I fulfilled my promise. England, not so much.
On this day, Australia plummeted England into the ground by hammering 346 runs for the loss of just one wicket. Steve Smith made his highest test score and Mitchell Marsh got his maiden test hundred (that too a daddy one). I felt as if Mitchell Marsh was laughing and cursing at me. I saw the highlights. He was so excited and celebrated so hard on getting his hundred. He totally shut me up. I was speechless. Though I was dejected at England losing their way, I felt strangely peaceful. There was a serene beauty in knowing that you tried your best, it just wasn't meant to be. It was the victory of mastery over fate. In some corner of my wretched heart, I felt happy for that bastard. I let it go. All my anger vanished. Breathe. just breathe. Let it go.
I have been an English cricket fan for as long as I have watched cricket. And because of that Australia remain the ultimate cricketing enemy to me. I have always wanted them to lose against England no matter what. But, I have always secretly admired the way they go on about their business. Always taking the game forward. "You can win from anywhere", Shane Warne used to say. The sheer ruthlessness and dominance of Oz have always inspired me. I wanted England to be like them. Brutally annihilating the opposition. Historically, England has always been soft. They have never been ruthless. They are just happy to scrap for a series win. Once they win a series, they let it slip away. They never go for the kill. They will get happy with a scoreline of 3-2 as long as they are on top. I have always hated that. I wanted England to be wild hunters. I wanted England to be those whack-job guys you meet, who after being punched in the face will spit blood and a few teeth and will tell you to fucken try harder. I wanted them to be bloody aggressive. Not mushy and weak. There was always a beauty in which Australians played cricket. The way they used to beat the shit out of everyone was spectacular. You will almost feel the happiness being sucked out of you. You will even secretly enjoy it. That was their aura.
Anyway, Long story short. Australia, after 16th December 2017 ended, were in such a position from where they couldn't lose the test match. It was either England's loss or with extreme weather interruption a stalemate of a draw. Next day wasn't so bad. England managed to stop Steve Smith from getting a triple ton and Mitchell Marsh from a double. It was hard to even believe that they managed to take 5 Australian wickets within a few hours of play. The lead was sizeable already. But with rain and using the bat effectively, it could be saved.
Rain did its part. England players not so much. James Vince received the alleged ball of the 21st century. That missile from Mitchell Starc's hand pitched on middle stump line at 90 miles an hour, hit one of the WACA cracks and instead of going to pads of James Vince, changed direction as if it was being controlled by Starc telepathically. It deviated dramatically and disturbed the off-stump. It was the most spectacular ball I had ever seen. It was UNPLAYABLE. I couldn't imagine anyone avoiding at least a leg before to that ball. James Vince was befuddled. His face was someone like a boy who can't find his parents on a crowded airport. He had no idea what the hell just happened. Starc celebrated as hard as he could. England was fighting like a cornered cucumber.
Last day was a formality. Even with the rain, England couldn't save it. It was all over. Hazlewood spared them the pain. It was almost as if he was consoling them, "It's okay. Travel safe. It's not the end of the world". Aussies had regained the urn on December 18, 2017. The Christmas was still a week away and the Ashes was back where it belongs for now. England was not disappointed. They were just sad. They knew that they were beaten by a team who were genuinely better than them.
To me, the gloom and horror of WACA continued. The only silver lining for me in this entire episode was, "At least it was WACA farewell match." No more agony. Next matches in western Australia will happen in the newly built stadium. I can only hope that the ghost of WACA doesn't know the way there.
In many ways, the WACA always brings out my worst memories. I will describe only two recent ones:
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ashes 2013-14 WACA test (13-17 December 2013)
In Ashes 2013-14, when Cooky got a first ball jaffa by Ryan Harris (it was 16th December 2013), my heart sulked and I wanted to be dead.
WACA test in 2013 made me an atheist. The moment when England's second innings began, I had never felt as excited as that before in my life. Cooky was my favorite test cricketer back then. He was playing his 100th test match and captaining England who was 2-0 down and the only hope of retaining the Ashes was to save the game by batting out 5 sessions. Cooky had never got a golden duck in tests before. He was the highest scorer in England's first innings(He got 72). It was GAME ON.
Ryan Harris starts with the first ball. There was a huge crack in the good length area at the WACA. Cooky was on strike. Harris (known as Rhino among his team-mates) starts running. The whole of Australia and the whole world was watching. Harris picks up the pace in the background clapping noise of the WACA. He goes past the umpire, his biceps brushing his ears and he delivers the ball. Then this happened:
"Did it hit the seam? Did it hit a crack? Did it swing after pitching? Whatever it did, the opening delivery Harris conjured for Alastair Cook in the second innings of the WACA Test was truly a collector's item. this was an offering of symbolic value far beyond the fact of its taking a most important wicket in an extraordinary way. It summed up how hard Australia had worked to give themselves a chance in the series, and how wondrously all that work paid off, with a little serendipity thrown in. For the rest of his life, Harris is entitled to dine out on this ball, just as Cook is entitled to have nightmares about it."
Harris ran so hard after the wicket as if he was about to take off to the moon. None was catching him. The crowd and commentators were exuberant. All I could hear was them saying, "Oh! STRAIGHT-AWAY" after I had heard the clinking of stumps. Cooky didn't even look back and just looked at the large screen. He was on his way back. Walk of shame. Here he was. Captain of the side who had to lead from the front to give England a chance of saving the Ashes. And he was gone for a first-baller. Life can be indeed cruel.
For me, it didn't stop there. I could almost hear my heart-beat beating so fast. I thought that I will get a heart-attack. I just put my head in pillow. I put the television on "Mute" and just started chanting, "it's just a game. it's just a game. it's just a game." like a madman. A part within me just died that moment. I had never hated everything on earth so badly. All I could do was utter the swear words for Australians in a non-stop manner. I was abusing and cursing God himself. How could he do that? Why did he do that? Why would he do that to me? Was it part of some grand plan made by him? Was Cooky's getting out related to some greater good of the universe? Will Cooky get more peace in after-life because of that golden duck? Then I couldn't keep it together and I just said, "Screw God. God doesn't exist. God shouldn't exist. And even if he does and he let this happen, I am done with him." I never felt so dejected in my life than that moment. The expectation was enormous. Ah! Expectations. They are the source of all the pain.
Australia regained the urn at WACA on December 17, 2013, after enduring 3 successive Ashes losses.
The only silver lining from that WACA test was: Ben Stokes made a brilliant test hundred before England lost. So, at least WACA did manage to give us an English Hero in the form of "Ben Stokes" who arguably is the most valuable player in the world right now. I will take that.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ashes 2017-18 WACA test (14-18 December 2017)
There was so much build-up to this match. England was as usual 2-nil down in the series. The good part was that they were the previous Ashes winners, so that meant that they only had to avoid defeat here to maintain a chance of retaining the urn. England had played well at Gabba and in the day-night test at Adelaide but just were unable to win key moments. Australia was not as good as everyone thought they would be. They just managed to hang on for a longer period and they looked like a team on the downhill in second innings in Adelaide. I had a genuine belief in my heart that England was only one session away from breaking Australian resistance.
I didn't want to feel like I did in 2013 WACA test. So, I made a pact with myself. I won't follow the ball-by-ball commentary or live action for this test match. Just an occasional fling at twitter or cricinfo. I won't watch the WACA test as it had brought so much trauma in 2006, 2010 and 2013. This was a place comparable to hell itself for me. Life seemed to be at its lowest point. Aussies used to murder the opposition at WACA. No matter how much they were struggling previously, at WACA Aussies used to bend the laws of nature itself to crush anyone who came in their way.
Because of my pact, I missed out a dream-filled day from England on day 1. England was 305-4 with David Malan making a scintillating hundred. Every time I watched the score I imagined him playing the shots against Starc, Hazlewood, Cummins, and Lyon. It appeased me. I really thought that this was the day England were going to turn it around. I envisioned a scoreline of England winning the Ashes 3-2. No team had won the Ashes from being 2-nil down in the last 90 years. So I thought that it was probably due anyway. Nature will conspire to make it happen. You know, nature just doesn't like anomaly like "never happened in 90 years". Bring on day 2!
It was day 2 when the hopes started to fade away. Though I was so happy for Jonny making his first Ashes ton, From a position of 368-4, England did what they always do. Explode. Hand over the advantage on a silver platter to Australia.
They got all out on 403 and hence lost a massive chance of batting Australia out of the match. Last 6 wickets adding a dreadful 35 runs. The score was undoubtedly competitive, but it was nowhere near safe. The pitch was dry, no sideways moment and England's quicks, though skillful, are medium pace at best. Australia ended the day 200 runs behind with seven wickets in hand. Smith on batting on 92.
All I could think that night was how England was going to get early morning breakthroughs and gain a handy lead of 50-60 runs which could be decisive on widening cracks of WACA. I was thinking how Steve Smith will be so alone in fighting it out with only Shaun Marsh as recognized batsman left. Next man in was Mitchell Marsh, who I have always thought as the worst test all-rounder to have ever played for Australia. I often used to joke with my brother about how Mitch Marsh was a waste of plane ticket and Australia could better use that ticket to send someone else, not necessarily a player who could at least bring something to the table.
Next day was December 16, 2017. The nemesis itself. Smith will bat out the whole day for Australia. The hope of regaining the Ashes will be sucked out after 16th December.
On this day, my worst fears came true. I promised myself that I won't watch the scoreboard for the whole day. I will keep myself busy with research work while silently wishing for England to do well. It was a tacit agreement between me and England. I won't watch the score and they will deliver me the good news at stumps.
I fulfilled my promise. England, not so much.
On this day, Australia plummeted England into the ground by hammering 346 runs for the loss of just one wicket. Steve Smith made his highest test score and Mitchell Marsh got his maiden test hundred (that too a daddy one). I felt as if Mitchell Marsh was laughing and cursing at me. I saw the highlights. He was so excited and celebrated so hard on getting his hundred. He totally shut me up. I was speechless. Though I was dejected at England losing their way, I felt strangely peaceful. There was a serene beauty in knowing that you tried your best, it just wasn't meant to be. It was the victory of mastery over fate. In some corner of my wretched heart, I felt happy for that bastard. I let it go. All my anger vanished. Breathe. just breathe. Let it go.
I have been an English cricket fan for as long as I have watched cricket. And because of that Australia remain the ultimate cricketing enemy to me. I have always wanted them to lose against England no matter what. But, I have always secretly admired the way they go on about their business. Always taking the game forward. "You can win from anywhere", Shane Warne used to say. The sheer ruthlessness and dominance of Oz have always inspired me. I wanted England to be like them. Brutally annihilating the opposition. Historically, England has always been soft. They have never been ruthless. They are just happy to scrap for a series win. Once they win a series, they let it slip away. They never go for the kill. They will get happy with a scoreline of 3-2 as long as they are on top. I have always hated that. I wanted England to be wild hunters. I wanted England to be those whack-job guys you meet, who after being punched in the face will spit blood and a few teeth and will tell you to fucken try harder. I wanted them to be bloody aggressive. Not mushy and weak. There was always a beauty in which Australians played cricket. The way they used to beat the shit out of everyone was spectacular. You will almost feel the happiness being sucked out of you. You will even secretly enjoy it. That was their aura.
Anyway, Long story short. Australia, after 16th December 2017 ended, were in such a position from where they couldn't lose the test match. It was either England's loss or with extreme weather interruption a stalemate of a draw. Next day wasn't so bad. England managed to stop Steve Smith from getting a triple ton and Mitchell Marsh from a double. It was hard to even believe that they managed to take 5 Australian wickets within a few hours of play. The lead was sizeable already. But with rain and using the bat effectively, it could be saved.
Rain did its part. England players not so much. James Vince received the alleged ball of the 21st century. That missile from Mitchell Starc's hand pitched on middle stump line at 90 miles an hour, hit one of the WACA cracks and instead of going to pads of James Vince, changed direction as if it was being controlled by Starc telepathically. It deviated dramatically and disturbed the off-stump. It was the most spectacular ball I had ever seen. It was UNPLAYABLE. I couldn't imagine anyone avoiding at least a leg before to that ball. James Vince was befuddled. His face was someone like a boy who can't find his parents on a crowded airport. He had no idea what the hell just happened. Starc celebrated as hard as he could. England was fighting like a cornered cucumber.
Last day was a formality. Even with the rain, England couldn't save it. It was all over. Hazlewood spared them the pain. It was almost as if he was consoling them, "It's okay. Travel safe. It's not the end of the world". Aussies had regained the urn on December 18, 2017. The Christmas was still a week away and the Ashes was back where it belongs for now. England was not disappointed. They were just sad. They knew that they were beaten by a team who were genuinely better than them.
To me, the gloom and horror of WACA continued. The only silver lining for me in this entire episode was, "At least it was WACA farewell match." No more agony. Next matches in western Australia will happen in the newly built stadium. I can only hope that the ghost of WACA doesn't know the way there.
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