![]() And of course above 60 is next level, above the routine everyday generational greats, still way, way, back from that neat, flannelled, sepia man in the green cap, but undeniably great in a way nobody else in the modern age has managed. Smith’s entire Test career has been a 12-year battle to end up averaging over 60. skip past newsletter promotionĪnd the numbers do matter, weirdly, crankily. Smith’s ability to keep clipping that ball from under his eyes, a walking defiance of established tenets of the lbw law, is apparently permanent. Which wasn’t that far off, because in the event Smith has turned out to be the closest thing to the next Bradman, as much as this might pain those who only see his angular awkwardness, who have been waiting as the years stretch for this to be a blip or an oversight, a man having a very long, apparently endless day out.įorm is temporary. Smith made his Test debut on this ground in 2010 against Pakistan, batting at No 7, and was described by at least one keen-eyed reporter as the next Shane Warne. Plus, of course, there is the circularity. Only Ricky Ponting has more for Australia. First, of course, the numbers, and the Smith numbers are always startling. Later on Zak Crawley would provide the most exuberant batting of the day, striding about the sun-drenched lime green of Lord’s in June and reeling off a series of almost cartoonishly classical shapes, the easy drive, the leg-side clip.īut Smith’s hundred felt like a significant moment for various reasons. His 110 had come off 184 balls, and felt like an inevitability, an unspoken agreement between batter and fielders, from the moment he first appeared and began flicking and cuffing and gliding the ball into the spaces.Īustralia’s first innings tailed off a little to end on 416. The cover drive did for him shortly after the first drinks break, Smith reaching across, letting the hands – oh those hands – flay at a wide one from Josh Tongue and edging low to Ben Duckett. ![]() Jimmy Anderson overpitched, that bat face came whirling through, and Smith had his helmet off straight away, raising both arms, drinking in the applause of a crowd that had booed him out, more in a spirit of red-trousered panto-banter than actual malice.Īt which point Smith began to wave his bat more pointedly, running through a series of very precise shapes and patterns, taking in all relevant parts of the pavilion and the members stand, a little irritable, covering any missed spots, making the bat-pointing more complete and balanced and basically celebrating as he had batted for the preceding 169 balls, like a man solving an extremely complex giant-scale sudoku puzzle. From there Smith somehow has time to shift not just his grip, but his weight, his forward energy, and to bring his bat through in a perfect, withering arc, finishing with an almost parodically high elbow that got higher and higher as this innings progressed, so that by the end he was almost somersaulting off his feet as the ball scorched between the cover fielders. ![]()
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