Ashes 2019: Jofra Archer should be applauded

Here’s what Jofra Archer did wrong before, during and after the frightening delivery that knocked Steve Smith off his feet: Nothing.

Steve Smith is struck on the neck by a delivery from England’s Jofra Archer

Here’s what Jofra Archer did wrong before, during and after the frightening delivery that knocked Steve Smith off his feet and rekindled those awful memories of the last ball Phillip Hughes ever faced. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

He should be universally applauded for one of the great spells of Ashes fast bowling. The laughter he shared with Jos Buttler while Smith was being treated? Play on. That was awkward laughter. Nervous laughter. Non-malicious laughter. Relieved laughter. Because by then, Archer knew we weren’t witnessing a life-and-death scenario.

Archer to Smith. It wasn’t quite Bodyline revisited but when Smith’s body was on the line, it was Test cricket at its electrifying best. Facing a true speedster is meant to be terrifying. The risks are little different to stepping into a boxing ring. You might cop one that knocks your light out.

Nothing in Test cricket is a better or more rare spectacle than a tearaway quick trying to knock someone’s block off. Jeff Thomson did it in the 1970s. Mitchell Johnson did it five years ago. Pat Cummins did it, to Archer, two days ago.

How did Thomson and Johnson not kill someone? By good fortune. Why did Hughes lose his life? He was plum out of luck. That’s not being insensitive to the tragedy of it. But it’s the truth of it. Chin music can thrill you. Worst case scenario, it can kill you.

The outrage about Archer chuckling while Smith was in ga-ga land was predictable and boring. He had shown his concern. He had to walk away when the medicos arrived. Players never know what to do in this instance. It wasn’t like Archer gave Smith a swift kick to the ribs. It wasn’t like he marched back to his mark.

Smith lays on the pitch after being hit.

Who knew the context of the laughter? None of us. Buttler might have tried to soothe Archer’s anxieties by cracking a joke. Who could blame him? Archer might have whispered to Buttler, got him! Either would be acceptable in the brutal realm of Test cricket.

Sympathy for Smith should be limited. He would want none. When he made it clear he was conscious and mobile, what was Archer meant to do? Give him a fireman’s carry to the dressing room? Smith would be relishing their upcoming battles. This was good and proper cricket.

Buttler, from short leg, could not have gone to Smith’s side more quickly if a catch was on offer. The first thing he did was place a hand on Smith’s shoulder. Those first moments were sickening. Terrifying. A flashback to Hughes going down at the SCG and never getting up. But it became clear very quickly that while Smith was no longer at his perky best, this wasn’t a grave situation.

Hughes, one of Smith’s best mates, died from a short ball at the SCG. Smith himself allayed fears about anything remotely like it, gesturing that he was OK. Well, sort of OK.

England's Jofra Archer.

Any time you face a bowler with 90mph up his sleeve, you accept you might cop it in the neck. It’s more sensitive now than it used to be. “Rough memories,” was how Australia coach Justin Langer described the backdrop of Hughes. He also said of his batsmen: “These are like my sons, right? You’re never going to put them in harm’s way — even though you’re always in harm’s way in Test cricket.”

It was a reminder of the bravery of Test batsmen. They’re constantly in danger of getting injured. Archer’s reaction? Initially, he looked shocked. And then he had no idea what to do. He had been whipped into a frenzy. He was in the throes of a spell that had the crowd in full voice.

Smith was on his way to another century when Archer, having just dismissed Australia captain Tim Paine, went after an even bigger scalp. How often have we heard it from opposition teams: get Smith. Archer got him. Got him good. Bravo. Because until then, Smith’s back-foot cover drives were sounding like they’d come off Babe Ruth’s bat. Or Bradman’s.

He was on his way to another century. England had tried all their other tactical plans against him. Bowling at the stumps. Bowling wide of the stumps. So Archer did what any respectable paceman would do. He introduced a little chin music. And succeeded.

Thomson did it to England. Johnson did it. Pat Cummins tried it in England’s first innings, at Archer. The Englishman targeted and terrified Smith in return. He had speed. Intent. A stone-cold stare. He cracked Smith on the forearm. Well bowled. Smith pulled him for four. Shot. It was breathtaking and invigorating stuff.

Smith copped one on the neck, he went down, we all felt sick in the guts, but when the worst-case scenario was out of play, when Smith got back to his feet, bowler and batsman deserved equal salutations. For the skill and bravado.

We should be thankful that Smith lived to see another day. We should be just as thankful for Archer ripping into him so ruthlessly. It was no lowlight of the Lord’s Test. It was the highlight.

Archer would be the first to applaud Smith. Smith would be the first to applaud Archer. The only villains were the nincompoops and simpletons who booed Smith. They proved they knew nothing about cricket. Absolutely nothing.

Johnson told ESPN: “For me, they (Archer and Buttler) weren’t laughing at Steve Smith. There was a bit of nervousness. You could tell that Jofra Archer was a bit shaken by it. He’s a really cool character. He’s calm. But you could just tell in his eyes there was that little bit of concern … he went back to the crease, and sort of rubbed his hands in the crease and the dirt, and actually walked over to make sure everything was OK. The game is played where you bowl short balls. It’s expected. There was nothing illegal about the delivery … how do you get Steve Smith out?”