Pace is the ace: why you need quick bowlers to win in Australia

It was Douglas Jardine who said in Bodyline Autopsy, "Cricket is a game of skill, but it is also a game of war. You must find a way to win or you are lost."

As the shadows lengthen over the Australian summer, the 2025-26 Ashes series looms in Perth on 21 November, a mere six weeks away. For England, under the audacious stewardship of Brendon McCullum and Ben Stokes, the mantra is clear: speed thrills.

Their squad, boasting a "cartel" of express pacemen led by the enigmatic Jofra Archer and the thunderous Mark Wood, offers echoes of history's lessons. To understand this bold gambit, we must rewind to the summer of 1932-33, when Jardine faced a Hobson's Choice - take the only option on offer or face certain defeat. Bodyline, that infamous tactic, was not born of malice but necessity, a desperate counter to Donald Bradman's otherworldly batting. It reminds us that cricket, for all its genteel veneer, can ignite passions that spill beyond civil norms, turning gentlemen into gladiators and crowds into cauldrons of fury.

Jardine's predicament was the stuff of captaincy nightmares. Bradman had just dismantled England in their own backyard during the 1930 Ashes, amassing 974 runs at an average of 139.14 - a record that still beggars belief. His triple-century at Headingley was a symphony of dominance, reducing England's attack to rubble. Jardine, a steely Oxford-educated amateur with a disdain for defeat, knew that accepting Bradman's supremacy fatalistically was tantamount to surrender. As England's captain, his remit was unequivocal: find a way, within the laws, to curb this prolific scoring machine. But what options did he have? Conventional bowling had proved futile; spin was neutralised on Australia's true pitches; and seamers like Hedley Verity offered control but not terror.

Herein lies the essence of Jardine's Hobson's Choice - the illusion of alternatives masking a singular path. He turned to "fast leg theory", a tactic not invented by him but refined to lethal precision. Precedents abounded in the 1920s. Australian fast bowlers like Jack Gregory and Ted McDonald had employed similar short-pitched barrages with packed leg-side fields during the 1920-21 Ashes, unsettling English batters on lively surfaces. Jardine, ever the tactician, drew from this example, consulting Nottinghamshire's Arthur Carr and Percy Fender, who had trialled it domestically. He came upon the idea observing Bradman flinch against Harold Larwood's bouncer at The Oval in 1930. "I've got it! He's vulnerable!" Jardine exclaimed. Secret sessions in London honed the plan: short balls at the body, a ring of leg-side fielders to snare deflections. It was legal, innovative, and crucially, the only sensible option against a batter averaging over 100.

Critics vilified Jardine as unsportsmanlike, but as a former captain, I see his dilemma plainly. Every leader, amateur or professional, bears the responsibility of solving the game's riddles. To let Bradman score at will would betray Jardine's team, his nation, and the competitive spirit of cricket. Bradman averaged 56.57 in the Bodyline series - still formidable, but mortal. The series' flashpoints, like the Adelaide riot after Bert Oldfield's skull fracture, evoked raw emotions: Australian crowds baying for blood, diplomatic cables flying between boards, threats of trade boycotts (and this during the Great Depression). Sport, in such moments, transcends civility, tapping into tribal loyalties that can fracture empires. Jardine became the scapegoat, retiring from Tests thereafter, but his choice delivered a 4-1 victory. Without it, England would have been lambs to Bradman's slaughter.

This theme - pace as the great equaliser in Australia - threads through every English Ashes win down under since Bodyline. History is unequivocal: to win in these vast, sun-baked arenas, you need express bowlers who can intimidate, extract bounce, and shatter partnerships on pitches that reward raw speed over subtle swing.

Consider the 1954-55 series, which England won 3-1 win under Len Hutton. Frank Tyson, called "Typhoon" for his 95mph thunderbolts, claimed 28 wickets at 20.82, terrorising batters with sheer velocity on firm tracks. Brian Statham's accurate outswing complemented him, but it was Tyson's pace that broke Australia's spirit, reducing legends like Neil Harvey to caution. Emotions ran high; Tyson's ferocity evoked Bodyline, with crowds murmuring about "intimidation", but in the end it was the key to victory.

Fast-forward to 1970-71, Ray Illingworth's 2-0 triumph. John Snow, lanky and lethal at 90mph, snared 31 wickets, his bounce and skid exploiting Australian frailties. Bob Willis, on debut, added fire. The series boiled over in the last Test, in Sydney, where a Snow bouncer felled Terry Jenner, sparking a bottle-throwing melee and Illingworth leading his team off the field in protest. Again, pace stirred primal reactions, but it secured the urn.

Mike Brearley's 5-1 rout in 1978-79 leaned on Willis' speed and bounce (20 wickets) and Ian Botham's deceptive pace and all-round skill (23 wickets). Willis' hostility on Perth's bouncy deck set the tone, evoking crowd hostility that bordered on the uncivil - boos, jeers, even objects hurled. Again, without this pace edge, England's win would have evaporated.

England's 2-1 upset in the 1986-87 series under Mike Gatting, saw Graham Dilley take 16 wickets with his sharp pace. Botham chipped in again with nine wickets, his medium-fast swing and bounce augmented by Gladstone Small's (12 wickets) awkward speed. Emotions peaked in Melbourne, where Botham's heroics fused triumph with controversy, his off-field antics amplifying the drama.

Most recently, the 3-1 masterclass under Andrew Strauss in 2010-11 rested on James Anderson's 24 wickets (late swing at 88-92mph), Chris Tremlett and Steven Finn's towering bounce (31 wickets between them). Their cartel overwhelmed Australia, with Mitchell Johnson's waywardness contrasting with England's precision. The Gabba draw turned on pace pressure, and the series' intensity - verbal sledging, crowd taunts - underscored how speed ignites passions that push boundaries.

In each case England's victories hinged on one or more express bowlers. Spin played cameos but pace was the protagonist, exploiting Australia's pace-friendly conditions: Perth's steepling bounce; Brisbane's humidity, which aids swing; Melbourne's variable decks. Without it, touring sides wilt under home dominance - think Australia's Lillee-Thomson terror in the 1970s or McGrath-Gillespie's relentlessness in the 2000s.

Now to the present. McCullum and Stokes have done their homework. They have prioritised the fitness of Archer and Wood, assembling a sextet of quicks - including Gus Atkinson, Brydon Carse, Matthew Potts, and Josh Tongue - apart from Stokes himself, to launch an assault. "We need that cartel fit and firing," McCullum declared, echoing Jardine's resolve. Archer's X-factor swing and Wood's 95mph heat are statements of intent; the two have been managed meticulously after injuries to peak in Perth. With only Shoaib Bashir as spinner, they've put nearly all eggs in the speed basket, betting on rotation to sustain pressure across five Tests.

Australia lack a Bradman, but curbing Steve Smith, Travis Head, and Cameron Green to mortal outputs will be pivotal. The openers will be important to Australia's success, but it is the middle order that will need to make big runs if Australia are to win the series. If England's attack delivers and dismantles Australia's middle order, McCullum and Stokes will join the list of successful England leaders in Australia.

Batting-wise, England appear settled, with Zak Crawley and Ben Duckett's aggressiveness as openers, Ollie Pope's flair, Joe Root's mastery, Jamie Smith's precociousness, and Harry Brook's prodigious talent - the latter averages 57.55 in Tests, a comet streaking across world cricket. Australia's line-up will look more settled before the first Test on the back of early-season form, but vulnerabilities persist in the wake of David Warner's retirement.

Yet, batters will be critical only insofar as they withstand the barrage. This series, like its forebears, will be decided by the superior bowling side. England's pace gamble could evoke Bodyline's emotions - imagine a bouncer from Archer felling a key bat, crowds erupting, words flying. Sport's power lies here: it distils human drama, where triumph and controversy collide, pushing participants and spectators beyond civil norms into realms of raw passion.

Jardine took the only sensible option. History affirms pace's primacy in Australia, and in 2025-26 too, bowling will crown the victor. As the urn beckons, let the need for speed reignite cricket's eternal fire.