SaqFor England, it was a weary and slightly sick way to end the Test summer. Not weary in the literal sense, although Chris Woakes looked tired and the injured Gus Atkinson was needlessly outclassed as Sri Lanka cruised to a magnificently clinical eight-wicket victory at the Oval.
But tired of the mind, tired of the spectacle, full of red-hot Weltschmerz. It was a strange day, strangely tensionless. Is this the promised end or the vision of this horror? I don’t know. But Pathum Nissanka beats like a god. The Oval food court is half empty. Sri Lankan flags flutter in the icy air of the Bedser Stand. There was life here. But what else is there in this mix?
This third and final test has been described quite often over its four days as having an end-of-term feel, that last morning when everyone plays Connect 4 and watches Kung Fu Panda 3. As Jerusalem echoed around the empty seats at 11:05 on a cold September morning, it felt more like the end of times, the cracks beginning to show in a summer sport that is collapsing in on itself.
Related: Ollie Pope admits England were ‘not good enough’ in Sri Lanka defeat
From England’s perspective, this Test was at times a nauseating spectacle.
The quality of Sri Lanka’s play should not be underestimated. There was something heartening and joyous about Nissanka’s fourth-innings play, which produced a thrilling, highly skilful and beautifully compact century from 107 balls.
Nissanka achieved the milestone with a sublime back-foot kick, taking off his helmet and savouring a truly enjoyable moment in his career. More broadly, it is simply a good thing that a nation that has been shut out of the top tier of Test cricket, whose talent must constantly weigh up the pros and cons of the franchise circuit, continues to produce cricketers of such skill and discipline, with such an obvious love for the toughest format.
Sri Lanka’s fast play on day three was equally convincing, the other point on which this match was won. Their energy was also significant. It was the performance of a team that perhaps felt a little underestimated, a little disdained by these top-class opponents.
Let’s just say it. There were elements of this England Test that seemed a bit ridiculous. And that is dangerous ground for a spectacle whose legitimacy depends entirely on the sense of importance it generates and which, let’s not forget, always funds the other ambitions of English cricket.
You could start by playing Dan Lawrence as an opener. In fact, it was a selection that came about because he’s our mate and he has to play, and because it’s Sri Lanka and we’re going to win anyway. It’s hard to imagine a top-order batsman less adept at dealing with the nibbling new ball outside off stump. Some have said Lawrence looked a bit desperate in his last innings here. Maybe he was just annoyed.
The bowling attack itself was not a shoddy attack, but its management was. A tired Woakes, a returning Stone, a lanky left-arm novice and spin novice Bashir: it is not yet a top-class Test attack. So why pretend it was? Lose runs to spin bowling in bad light. Show such sloppiness while failing to set a proper target in the third over. It was all pretty cowardly and yeah, whatever.
It also leaves a bitter aftertaste. Before this game, Brendon McCullum said that “Josh Hull’s performance didn’t really matter.” But it does. Tickets are expensive. They pay for all that. That’s good. But it has to feel like elite sport, not a game between mates or long-term preparation for the series that really matters to your personal legacy. That’s the kind of management and captaincy that deserves losing to a more disciplined team.
And what about that management? Where are we now with the regime of dominant vibrations? Throughout the Saturday of this match, the big screen was constantly showing an advert for Bazball: The Inside Story of a Test Cricket Revolution, an excellent and finely detailed book about the changes in the style of Test play in England in recent years.
But it was also impossible not to see a bit of dark humor in the notion of hot blood and the white heat of change during a test where the joints of this thing really started to show. For all its funny notes, Bazball can never be a revolution or a reinvention, because the host body is dying. It’s the group playing while the ship is sinking, a group of people having fun while the game is still there.
The first day at the Oval coincided with the official confirmation of the sale of the Hundred franchises, also known as the July outsourcing to a group of hedge funds. There was the absurdity of bad lighting, of a sport really going the extra mile to alienate its paying customers.
Meanwhile, the chief executive of English cricket could be heard on the BBC speaking in cultish terms about McCullum’s telekinetic abilities, how, even at a barbecue, he “subtly nudges you in the right direction with subliminal messages”. Perhaps McCullum’s extrasensory messages explain his inability to turn up in person at the Oval to explain this defeat to the public.
This is not to blame the players, who can hardly be held responsible for having fun while their administrators tell them that this event is fundamentally irrelevant, that it is simply a September event for those still willing to pay. But how long will this game last?
There are many ways to lose in cricket. There was a moment towards the end when England were now subdued by Lazball, just after Nissanka had lobbed his second six over both backfielders for the hook, where Ollie Pope came over and had a bit of banter with the Sri Lanka batsmen.
Is this a good thing? Is it supposed to be funny at this point? Empty seats here, empty seats at Lord’s. You have to suspend disbelief in any sport. The spectacle has to matter, has to make you want to chew on the handle of your umbrella, to feel involved and wanted, to care about what’s at stake. The spectacle will go on for as long as people want it to. But it was a sloppy, strangely carefree way to end a tepid summer.
Saq
