Onions brings tears to Australian eyes

There are people on TV and radio who are billed as experts. But the secret of cricket is that no one actually knows anything.

The third Ashes Test turned on its head on Friday, immediately, spectacularly, astonishingly. By the time drizzle brought an early close, England were moving towards command: 116 for two in reply to Australia’s 263. The gruesome weather appears to be a more formidable obstacle on the path to victory than the poor old Aussies.

Australia lost two wickets to the first two balls and five more before lunch: the overnight 126 for one became 203 for eight. It was hard to imagine this was the same match. On Thursday night England bowled tripe: on Friday it was Onions. (Under the regulations governing this series, this column is allowed one cheap Graham Onions
pun per match: that’s it for this Test.)

Onions it was who bowled the opening over and transformed the contest. He swung the first ball back into Shane Watson’s pads; the second trimmed the off-bail with Michael Hussey not playing a shot. That’s the fifth case this series of this normally rare occurrence and the second for Hussey.

That is a minor mystery. The main one was Australia’s collapse. True, it was cloudy and a bit humid, the conditions traditionally held to favour swing bowling. True, Onions and then Jimmy Anderson found the length and accuracy that had eluded them the day before. And the ball did swing. But nothing can explain, for instance, how Australia’s best batsman, Ricky Ponting, got suckered into an ill-advised and badly executed hook.

It could have been worse for Australia. Two catches went down off Onions: one of them, by Andrew Flintoff, as easy as they come at second slip.

Luckily for England, Anderson was around to pick up the pieces. His pre-lunch spell was a gem and his reward was four wickets in 14 balls, including Mitchell Johnson, a cricketer from whom the gods have withdrawn their favour, for the day’s second golden duck. The tailenders hung around for a while, but not long enough.

Australia got Alastair Cook for nought and Ravi Bopara, whose form is an issue, did the hard graft before sloppily playing on for 23. Then came Ian Bell, the replacement for Kevin Pietersen, who walks to the crease all but screaming “Hey, look at me!” Bell all but apologises for interrupting. His interruption on Friday included a Pietersenesque six over long-on. Captain Andrew Strauss sailed serenely onwards to pass 300 in the series.

Ponting’s biggest problem is Johnson, because he obviously no longer trusts him. Three months ago he was considered the world’s number bowler. Now he is so bereft of form that Ponting bowls him only when all else fails. He rediscovered a little zip on Friday and had Bell so obviously lbw that a short-sighted Frenchman might have given him out. Umpire Rudi Koertzen, a South African, bafflingly did not. Right now, Johnson makes Job look like a lottery winner.

The morning’s events reduced the suddenly sober crowd to rapt silence: by mid-afternoon the Barmy Army was back in full cry, mocking Johnson (“Super, Super Mitch”) and the Aussies in general (“God Save Your Queen” and “We all Shagged Matilda”). Some of this came close to genuine wit.

Australian sports-watchers have no tradition of communal singing, and their contingent was reduced first to bewildered silence and then to turning “Yellow Submarine” into “You all live in a rank shithole”.

Birmingham does sometimes have this effect on visitors unable to discern its hidden charms. But it has to be said that England were knock-out winners of this battle too.