Wednesday, 24 January 2018

How then to account for the discrepancy in both performance and result between the England test and one day sides? Several theories are floating around in my brain box but here is one that recurs.

Smith is not such a good one day batsman as he is a test batsman.

If the chasm between the two sides in the test series could be, by ingenious means, distilled down to one element, it would be the impregnability, the invulnerability, the invincibility, the goddamned ungetoutability of one, Steven Smith. My little personal pet name for this guy is God Mode, because he bats in a way that I used to feel after I'd punched in a devious little cheat code on my games console and thereby rendered the game devoid of all difficulty, danger and challenge. His block shot is reminiscent of the generous, nay, infallible leeway afforded to a player on Brian Lara Cricket of tapping the 'x' button and performing the forward defensive; it is an afterthought; when all other avenues, when every sweetly lofted six in a 360 degree arc is (bafflingly) closed to you, you are always guaranteed to hit that 'x' button last-minute and perform the massively over-simplified (did Nasser and Athers strive their entire careers needlessly in perfecting this apparently most rudimentary of strokes?) forward block.

But in limited overs cricket, a discipline which necessitates speculation, pro activity, a sense of adventure - indeed, a discipline to which the word discipline itself is woefully misapplied - Steven Smith is not the same player. Against adequate, disciplined, confident bowling, of which England is well-endowed at presence, in the absence of any stars, Smith struggles to maintain a run-a-ball strike rate. And without match-winning performances from him and his lieutenant, David Warner, England have been able to snatch the initiative and are thoroughly in the ascendancy.