On the Buses

GH watches Australia grope for the wheel

The bus from the city of Darwin to Marrara Stadium is an experience. Each day it is packed. Each day it seems to leave at a different time, and to describe a different route - this morning via the golf club and Crocodylus Park, where nobody was going but where we dutifully stopped anyway. It takes a languid hour or so - communal and lackadaisical in the way that nobody has any real idea where we’re going, when we’ll arrive, or what next when we do.

Are we there yet?

It’s not a bad vantage from which to contemplate the lot of Australia’s cricketers in this Test - stuck unexpectedly on their own uncertain journey to an indeterminate location. When Pat Cummins won the toss on Thursday morning, they probably thought they were in the driver’s seat; instead they’ve had their faces against the glass staring at the unfamiliar scenery, wondering how this might end. Australia in recent times has perfected a standard commute - short, sharp Tests, propelled by explosive pace, counterpunching batting, suave keeping and slick outcricket. Two days against Bangladesh and they are struggling to regain control of tempo and sense of direction.

We have gone something like this route before - the last two home seasons began with Australia under pressure, and their countrymen harbouring existential thoughts about how much more could be expected of this fine but ageing team. Each time, they have swerved away from disaster. To partially regain the initiative today it took them eight bowlers and a second new ball - only the fifth time they have had recourse to it these last two years.

It’s cricket fever here