could do about it now anyway – I was out.
People were going to compare my action with Broad’s the day before, I knew that. There would be the usual declarations that ‘you always know if you’ve hit it’. That’s not true – not in my years of playing cricket, anyway. Sometimes the nick can be so fine that I haven’t felt or heard it, or it’s been my bat handle clicking as I played the shot. Sometimes my bat has touched my pad, or boot, or the ground. Sometimes I haven’t been sure if I’ve jammed the ball into the ground or it’s bounced before I’ve hit it. Sometimes I haven’t been sure if the ball has hit my bat before my pad, pad before the bat, or a whole jumble. There are literally hundreds of situations where you don’t know for sure. And in a Test match, under the highest pressure, you’re not thinking or perceiving as clearly as you are during a relaxing hit in the backyard. My point is, there’s a lot of uncertainty, and the reason we need umpires is not just because players don’t want to be honest, but because they don’t know . That was me today. I wasn’t certain, so I asked for the review.
The upshot was that I was in the pavilion now, with no turning back. Nothing I could do about it now. I’m pretty good at putting these things behind me, but it was a challenge after the previous few days.
At any rate, I had to stay cool for the boys’ sake. Smithy was LBW to Swann the next ball; luckily it seemed definitive, so we hadn’t paid a price straight away for my using our last unsuccessful review.
Neither Hadds nor Hughesy had faced a ball, but they were both out there, starting from scratch. A few minutes later, the rub of the green went against us in a different way. This time, Swann bowled around the wicket to Phillip, spun one savagely, and hit him on the pads. The English appealed excitedly, but Kumar Dharmasena gave him not out, indicating that the ball pitched outside leg stump. That was certainly the way it appeared to me: the ball had turned a great deal, and was going to hit middle. That and the television replay suggested it had pitched outside leg.
But this time, the third umpire overruled the onfield umpire. The only common denominator was that it was another decision in England’s favour. When the wicket-to-wicket blue strip was laid on the TV replay, it showed the ball pitching right on the outside line of leg stump. Not much we could say about that. Our eyes had deceived us.
I moved Ashton Agar up to number eight, which he’d certainly earnt with his first innings. He and Hadds had some nervous moments in the last half-hour, but got through Anderson’s return for the last three overs, and brought us to stumps at 6/174. Before going off, Hadds found Ian Bell to shake his hand and congratulate him on his century, which is typical of our vice-captain.
After play, I did something a bit unconventional. Normally, the captain’s press conference is after the end of the match. Each day before then, the media manager brings out one outstanding performer, or the coach, to talk about each day. It’s not expected that the captain will talk to the media during the match. But I knew there would be a lot of debate about my dismissal, and I wanted to nip it in the bud. I told our media officer Matt Cenin that I would be happy to be the chosen player to talk about the day. In interviews, I repeated that I had thought I’d missed the ball, but accepted that I’d hit it. I wasn’t prepared to enter into any discussion about the merits or otherwise of the system. I’ve got enough to think about. But the bottom line is, it’s the same for England and us, we all know the rules, and they apply equally.
When the boys were in the dressing room, I told them we had to believe we could win. This Test match has been a rollercoaster, and we are due for some ups. After our first innings, we know anything is possible. Six wickets down is probably two more than I’d have liked to be at