In preparation for the 2005 Ashes series, the late Graham Thorpe, a man I looked up to enormously, turned to me and uttered the immortal words: ‘Straussy, there is Test cricket and Ashes cricket. They are completely different things.’ Never has a truer sentence been spoken. The Ashes breaks out of the normal cricket bubble. It means more than cricket: this is a biennial arm-wrestle with the respective sporting reputations of two enormously proud nations on the line. The prize is a little urn but also bragging rights for the next two years. The result of the Ashes, whether positive or negative, invokes an intense emotional response. It makes people feel. That is why it is so important.
Politicians, with their sensitive antennae for public sentiment, are keen to get in on the act when the results go the right way. I sensed that Tony Blair was less than impressed when the England cricket team turned up to Downing Street in a state of drunken disrepair the day after the spectacular 2005 Ashes victory. His mood would not have been improved when, as we were gathering for the inevitable photo in front of No. 10, he attempted to make an amusing observation about all the people gathering in front of us to capture the moment. ‘What are all these people doing here?’ he asked rhetorically. Matthew Hoggard, still somewhat inebriated, came back as quick as a flash: ‘They are all here to take photos of you, you knobhead.’
Winning the Ashes in Australia is the holy grail for an England captain. Since the end of the second world war, only five England captains have achieved this feat. Australia is a hard country with an uncompromising environment and a fiercely proud sporting pedigree. To win, you need to overcome a nation as well as a cricket team. My advice to Ben Stokes is that he does his homework (every venue comes with significantly different demands), commits fully to his team’s incredibly entertaining method and really embraces both the country and the people. Australians love their country and respond well to foreigners (especially Poms) talking up what a great place it is. They also love winners, and so they will embrace this England team if they show that they are made of sterner stuff than many of their predecessors.
Plenty has been written and said about ‘Bazball’ – the Ben Stokes/Brendon McCullum masterplan to dominate other teams with an extremely aggressive and high-stakes approach. There is a temptation for the older generation to talk down the method – it offends the sensibilities of those who had to dig deep and fight for every run scored. England can be accused of lacking respect for the traditions and fundamentals of a game that has always demanded the strategic nous of a game of chess. The ignominious defeat in the first Test match in Perth has greatly sharpened the focus and intensity of this debate. What many miss, however, is that in most scenarios (although not all), attack is the best form of defence, especially as a way of applying pressure on opposition teams. More importantly, the approach also serves as a way of creating a clear and consistent mindset in a game where 90 per cent is played in the head. They won’t get it right all the time, and when they don’t it will look ugly, but I am certain that it makes this team a stronger and far more entertaining side as a result. Besides, changing a tactic that has been the foundation of the team (and selection) for the past three years after one high-profile defeat would be folly in the extreme.
It is the dream of any England captain to hold up the famous little urn on Australian soil, and I was waiting on the outfield of the Sydney Cricket Ground in January 2011 to fulfil my ultimate ambition when disaster struck. I was informed that I was to be presented with a far more sizeable, specially commissioned Waterford Crystal replica rather than the real thing. I protested, saying that we hadn’t come all the way to Australia to walk away with anything but the urn. A mad rush ensued, and the best the organisers could come back with was a poor-quality replica, made in China, from the nearest merchandise stand. In my greatest moment as an England captain, I lifted that symbol of 150 years of intense rivalry between two proud sporting nations high above my head, only to see the price tag of $15.99 on the underside of the urn.
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