The dropped catch is usually interpreted in terms of the guilty conscience of the fielder. They’ll be feeling terrible about that. They’ll be hoping it isn’t too costly. The dropee, not so much. Yet, around 11.15am at Adelaide Oval today, it was tempting to eavesdrop on Usman Khawaja’s thoughts.
Having slipped out of Australia’s XI, Khawaja had this morning slipped back in, Steve Smith’s dizziness providing an early birthday present. The day had dawned with him in the nets, making the wangers work hard as he intrigued the passers-by before Smith’s absence was confirmed. There had been a case for reinstating Beau Webster, amid temperatures where extra bowling might be handy; in the end, the like-for-like batter-for-batter swap had been preferred.
Still, for his first half hour at the crease, it had been the Khawaja grown familiar since the 2023 Ashes, during which he has only thrice passed 50 – hunched, hemmed-in, slow-handed, flat-footed, like a constipated old man shuffling round in his slippers. Against pace bowlers this year he has averaged 15; against bowling from round the wicket, he has shaped up almost on the perpendicular. Now here he was, the unexpected recipient of some extra rope, getting tangled in it again. An anxious single; a late leave that took the outside edge; a miscued pull into the back pad; as he snatched at his 28th ball, a wide-ish half volley from the lively Josh Tongue, failure appeared almost foreordained. Then Harry Brook, moving to his left at second slip, parried a chance he should have accepted.
During a run of outs, the temptation is always to rue externalities – the great ball that somehow always has your name on it, the 50-50 decisions always going against you, the pitch that is ‘shit’. Khawaja has been no exception. Ironically, such an attitude can vest any glimmer of luck with a special providence. The hangman cheated! The jury deadlocked! Don’t look now, but here’s a second chance. Why, it’s almost a free hit…
Or at least that was the way Khawaja appeared to treat it, for years suddenly seemed to slip from his shoulders. His very next ball vanished through square leg; then four balls later again. When Tongue gave him width, he cut expansively. When Stokes bowled bouncers, he curtsied daintily. Above all, Khawaja looked to score, getting off strike by working to leg that ball at hip height he has been defending. He liked what he saw of Will Jacks, and swept heartily.
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Australia had need of him. England had begun rustily, Brydon Carse squandering early signs of swing with a wasteful spell, four overs for 29, including four no balls, three long-hops and a wide half-volley all sent to the boundary. Jofra Archer, however, warmed to his work, hustling Jake Weatherald into a cramped hook before Zak Crawley took a sprawling catch at short cover to account for Travis Head. Marnus Labuschagne’s outside edge, off Archer, did not carry; had Khawaja’s been accepted, Australia would have been three for 50.
Archer struck again in the first over after lunch, having Labuschagne and Green caught at mid-wicket from impatient shots. But Khawaja was now settled, moving at the pace of his own he made familiar in 2023 as the International Cricket Council’s Test Cricketer of the Year. He drops the ball at his feet and walks away as though he has completely lost interest in it; he could look more relaxed at the non-striker’s end only if he was reclining in a deck chair. He reminds you occasionally of RC Robertson-Glasgow’s line about Herbert Sutcliffe, that Sutcliffe would sooner have missed a train than run for it. Khawaja would settle for an Uber.
You started to wonder, in fact, what the last couple of years have been about, as Khawaja has sunk into inertia, inversely proportional to the turnover of his opening partners. His bat has been emitting muffled sounds, his feet moving in an ever tighter square dance. Because then, with one bound, he was free. Perhaps the unexpected opportunity, to play as reserve, to slot in at four, to face a situation, as two for 32, rather than create one, from none for zero, was the circuit breaker needed. Walking out on your own, as Travis Head commented the other day, feels so different to starting with a partner. The second act of Khawaja’s career compelled an adaptation; it may not be coincidence that this third act, however long it lasts, involved another.
Then, that blessed sense of fortune. Having slipped Tongue to third man then fine leg for consecutive boundaries after lunch, Khawaja cut under the next ball and stooped for a moment to take stock. The outcome mixed things up further. Only twice before, in a total of twenty-three transits, had Khawaja stopped in the 80s. By top edging a sweep at Jacks, he left a hundred out there.
Carey did not, meeting the South Australian local content requirement with a hundred from his new perch of number six. This elevation, partly to leaven Australia’s concentration of right-handed in the middle, passed almost unremarked at the Gabba. Here it was shown to be an even better advantage, Carey’s clean hitting and flickering speed between wickets ever more disruptive against a softening ball.
Having shared a 91-run, 138-ball partnership with Khawaja, Carey led Australia’s lower order through the third session. Carse might have caught him on 52, diving valiantly in the covers as he carved at Archer. Otherwise Carey flailed his cuts, caressed his cover drives and challenged England to quieten him. Reliant on Archer, Stokes had to ration him out ahead of the second new ball, and that bowler’s final over of the day hardly reached the other end. Having picked a part-time spinner, Stokes was obliged to bowl him. If it’s any consolation, the pitch was proven excellent to bat on after the fortieth over. Now, if only England can bat that long…
Photograph by Gareth Copley/Getty Images