News Editor Ewan White hilariously explores England’s failures in the First Ashes test
If you want to know what follows below, just look at the image above. Now imagine Ben Stokes in 2025 instead of Jonny Bairstow in 2017, and you get the idea.
A basic summary and warning
If you didn’t know by now, or if you are one of those far too many people who do not follow cricket, England lost the 1st test of the 2025/26 Ashes in Perth by eight wickets in just two days. For the uninitiated, test matches are supposed to last five days but that in itself is a topic of debate.
I should warn you now that any reader of this article would benefit from at least a cursory knowledge of the wonderful game of cricket. If you do not have that… keep reading. I’m sure my sardonic tones are at least more entertaining than your tenth reel of brain rot today. Well, at least I hope.
If you are expecting some fancy analytical approach from me here, please think again. Rather go to Wisden, the BBC, or wherever you’ll find far more sophisticated requiems for English hopes, dreams and half-shut eyes glimpsing at another depressing scorecard.
Clinging on to an unknown glory
Let us rewind to a week ago. What a utopia! Yes, it was raining, grey, and filled with the dawning realisation that I should start working on my essays, but it was also Ashes week! We had waited two and a half years to get back at the Aussies. Two and a half years of cursing the Manchester skies for stealing the Urn. Now was the chance to take it back!
Of course, there is nothing sensible about that last sentence. England have not won a single test match in Oz since 2011. However, there is something so succulent about winning down under. Perhaps the only thing better than proving the Aussies wrong is a Wagyu steak. Unfortunately, I don’t know what either tastes like.
Even though I cannot remember the 2010/11 series victory, I long for that feeling. As is already obvious, I spend far too much of my time on the internet listening to tales of 500 on the scoreboard, the ‘sprinkler’ and Barmy Army chants I can’t repeat here. To quote the late Vince MacMahon, it was special.
In my excitement, I paid £31 for TNT sports, and I counted down the days until this festive season spectacular. Like Robert De Niro in Once Upon a Time in America, I lay down, smoked the Bazball pipe and drifted into my dreams.
It’s the hope that…
On Ashes eve, I sank pints and talked of Australia’s damaged cartel and their uneven lineup. Whether my friends thought I was talking about an Australian adaptation of the TV series Narcos or cricket, I’m still not sure. Nonetheless, on parting, they understood enough to say “enjoy the Ashes”. Of course, whether watching cricket is a matter of enjoyment or sadomasochism can be hotly contested.
I would not lie down in bed and watch passively. I instead fixed myself in front of a monitor at Waterloo library at 2.23 am as Starc steamed in. Why the library? Well, the monitor is the closest to a TV I can get at uni.
Also, I should mention that I had an impending deadline. I’m still wondering what’s was more confusing: England’s decision to bat first or reading William Mazzarella’s writing at 6 am.
Zak Crawley did not whack the first ball for four like in 2023. Nor did he get out first ball like Rory Burns in 2021. He simply waited five more balls to get out, nicking off to Mitchell Starc. And it was Starc who swiftly took the wickets of Ben Duckett and Joe Root. Ollie Pope and Harry Brook provided a modicum of hope, hitting 46 and 52 respectively.
Like always, it was this hope that inflicted the most pain. England’s middle order showed brief glimpses of talent and flair before being cleaned up. The supposedly deep tail lobbed up dollies and England was, inevitably, 172 all out.
I must admit that at this point, I had drifted completely out of my Bazball pipe dreams. It would be the same story as the last, that I had wasted my time in the early hours watching England getting trounced.
A New Hope?
But the flame was not quite out yet, and my Bazball pipe lit up once more. Searing pace from Jofra Archer, in the first two balls, quite literally toppled the debutant Jake Weatherald. Marnus Labuschagne’s elbow assisted the ball onto the wickets. Then Steve Smith was out for seventeen, and I was jumping about. When I had jumped for joy at Smith’s wicket four years ago, it had been the tired voice of my mother that admonished me for celebrating at silly o’clock. This time, it was the eyes of the two other people in the library.
Just as my seminar began at around 9 am on Friday, Travis Head had gifted Ben Stokes his wicket, and Australia was five down. By the time it had ended, they were nine down courtesy of that same Ben Stokes. Since I am a remarkably uncool, goody-two-shoes, I felt guilty about watching cricket in the seminar and thus turned it off just as Head got out. I know, I’m not a proper fan.
But, just before I did, my classmate to my right commented: “Cricket? I don’t know many people who follow that”. Of course, I first had to remark what a shame this was before doing the thing I love more than anything. Explaining the rules and forms of cricket. Surprisingly, they actually seemed mildly interested.
So, a positive response from talking about cricket to one of the uninitiated and Australia was 121-9. What could be better?
At 2 am the following morning, I was getting a bus from a Northern Soul club in Hackney to my accommodation, and I pondered watching the second day. Then I remembered I hadn’t slept since Wednesday and thought better of it. After all, there was always day three to watch!
It’s the hope that kills you
There was not a day three to watch.
The first thing that the internet decided to shove in my face when I woke up at 10 am was a clip of Ben Duckett nicking off to Scott Boland. That didn’t seem awfully promising. Without any second thought, I checked the score. Maybe I should’ve prepared myself for that.
Australia had won? Already?
Gone the hope of the Aussies 132 all out, gone the 72 per cent winviz,1 chance of an England win. England all out for 164, followed by Travis Head smashing 123 and crushing all our dreams. It really was 2021 all over again.
Usually, I might grit my teeth through the short highlights in such a scenario. Yet, I had decided that writing sardonic reviews of each test might somehow help my journalistic career. So I decided to watch the full, agonising and infuriating 45-minute highlights.
It’s unclear to me now why I did. I still do not feel like writing about what I saw. All I can say is that old cliché. Don’t drive on the up in Perth. It’s Perth. It’s very bouncy.
As for Travis Head. To make a 205 chase look easy on that pitch is remarkable. Having watched the highlights, I’m still not entirely certain as to what happened to the bowlers from one innings to the next. Nevertheless, I must admit, that was truly great batting.
Keep the faith?
And there we have it. After all that hope, after all that lost sleep. The Aussies are still better than us. Even when they are 132 all out, and we actually have a lead in Australia, we still can’t win.
If we do manage a win in the remaining tests, which would shock me at this point, feel free to mock me entirely for my pessimism here. Make any joke you like at that point, I won’t care. England will have actually won in Australia. But, we all know that will never happen… or do we?
Keep your eyes peeled for my review of the next test in Brisbane, starting on 4 December. I pray that I’ll have at least four days of cricket to write about this time!
- a cricket win predictor ↩︎
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