Ashes cricket: why England would rather talk Brexit

In its time of anguish, England wrestles with ridding itself of two problems: Europe and Steve Smith.

When 100 isn’t enough … Steve Smith raises his bat on dismissal for 211 against England in the fourth Test at Old Trafford. Picture: Getty Images

In its time of anguish, England wrestles with ridding itself of two problems: Europe and Steve Smith.

Its parliament and people tear themselves apart over Brexit and its cost. Its cricketers and fans tear themselves apart over the Aust­ralian batsman who is demanding the highest of prices for his exit.

He has batted only four innings­ this series, but spent 24 hours at the crease. Already he has scored more runs than when he was the highest run scorer in the 2015 series — and that was from twice as many innings.

Smith is the housing bubble that won’t burst. His 211 on return after a concussion at Lord’s has taken his series average to 147.25 and his career average to 64.64. His nearest contemporary, Virat Kohli, is going at 53.14, the little master Sachin Tendulkar finished with 53.78. Greg Chappell 53.86, Ricky Ponting 51.85.

The Bradman comparisons are inevitable, even if Smith falls 35 runs an innings short of the greatest ever. Many have been burdened with it early: Ian Craig, Norm O’Neill, Phillip Hughes. But not Smith, who started as a leg spinner and batted at No 8.

The Weekend Australian’s inevitab­ly sober Gideon Haigh suspended cynicism and suggests in this newspaper’s sports pages today that there are parallels between­ the two.

Are we, he asks, “at the point where the two names cannot only be used in the same sentence but reasonably transposed. ‘Smithesque’ could be found in the cricket thesaurus among synonyms for ‘Bradmanesque’. ‘He’s Out’ is a newspaper poster requiring as little­ elaboration today as it did in the 1930s”.

England invented Bodyline to rid itself of Bradman and had hoped a modified version — the rules do not allow as many fielders behind square now as then — would work after Jofra Archer wounded Smith at Lord’s.

The bowler who was expected to huff and puff to get Smith out arrived with an asthmatic wheeze in the damp Manchester air but his teammates did their best to collectively extinguish the candle.

Smith was quietly annoyed and slightly amused by the notion he could be bounced out.

“I said before the game that if they bowl a lot at my head then they’re not bowling at my stumps and trying to get me out lbw and caught behind the wicket. And I think that perhaps played into our favour a little bit in this innings.”

His batting style adapts to the bowling; he is jelly that can’t be nailed to the wall.

“You might have noticed when Overton was bowling really wide to me and I was just going a mile across and staying almost front-on and felt like I was playing a bit of French cricket for a bit, just covering my stumps. If they got straight, I was going to score; if not, I was waiting on a half volley or a short one to put away, and just tried to stay patient.”

The trademark fidgets have always­ been there. On one occas­ion in a state match, teammates decided to count the times he touched his helmet and adjusted pads in an over. He tells the story himself but can’t remember exactly what the final total was. Suffice to say it was Bradmanesque.