Australia play the Arthur way
14-Jul-2013
Darren Lehmann was ascribed magical powers in the lead-up to the Trent Bridge Test but Australia's fight, disciplined and almost scientific, is a direct result of the lessons learnt in India and imparted by sacked coach Mickey Arthur and Michael Clarke, says Malcolm Knox in The Sydney Morning Herald.
Perhaps he is the Brian Smith of cricket, the rugby league coach who rebuilt an inexperienced team without necessarily taking them to the premiership. But whatever success Australia has during Lehmann's tenure, its foundations lie in what Arthur and Clarke achieved in the first half of this year. Among those building blocks are the introduction of Rogers and Agar, the drilling of bowlers in the fundamentals of reverse swing and patience, and the renewed focus on defence as the keystone of batsmanship. That Australia are giving England a genuine contest is due to their preparation over three months, not three weeks. Arthur won't get the credit for this, but he deserves at least a fair payout.
In The Telegraph, Simon Hughes writes about getting a call from Shane Watson for information on batting technique, and says this is the definitive year for the Australia opener, and the conversations and soul-searching need to translate into big scores now.
He has the ability to be incredibly destructive, but does not quite know how, or when, to use it. Real game changers, like Kevin Pietersen, seem to understand instinctively when to go for the jugular. Others gradually work it out. Some talents are destined to remain unfulfilled.
35-year old Chris Rogers battled hard to make his first Test fifty and looks certain to stay at the top of the order for now. Barney Ronay, in The Guardian, writes that the gnarled and seasoned cricketing hobbit has aged gracefully.
He is a natural athlete along the chunky small-man model, a squat, coiled figure at the crease, his movements so entirely those of a career batsman it is impossible to imagine him doing anything else - eating breakfast, say, or playing the piano - without doing it in the style of a gnarled and grizzled left-handed opener.