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Australia's Steve Smith plays a shot against England
Steve Smith’s high-tempo unbeaten 92 for Australia puts the pressure back on England in the third Test of the Ashes. Photograph: Trevor Collens/AP
Steve Smith’s high-tempo unbeaten 92 for Australia puts the pressure back on England in the third Test of the Ashes. Photograph: Trevor Collens/AP

It is simple for England: get Steve Smith out or lose the Ashes

This article is more than 6 years old
Australia’s captain is fully aware of his role as the main character in every story these sides write, but the next move in the third Test is down to Joe Root

The roar Joe Root let out when he reviewed correctly to dismiss Cameron Bancroft shortly after David Warner nicked off was guttural and instructive. The England captain had got the big call right and they had two in a hurry. After a horrid collapse before lunch, and an imposing start for Australia, England were suddenly back in the day, with Craig Overton looking more dangerous by the delivery.

But the upshot of the hours to come was always going to rest on how they went when the next guy walked out, Root’s opposite number, Steve Smith. “Buts” don’t come bigger in international cricket. When he gets it right, and so often he does, Australia almost always win. Only two of his 21 centuries have been reached in losing teams – and England cannot afford to lose here. It is binary. Get Smith or get stuffed.

From the moment the home captain walked out he batted in a manner that suggests he gets this, too. He is fully aware of his role as the main character in every story these teams write. In the series opener, his job was a shock absorber; to exhaust the England bowlers. Here it was different. A higher-octane contest required a high-tempo innings to heap scoreboard pressure back on to Root. Especially after England left so many runs behind in their innings.

So Smith went to work. Two thumping off-drives came in the first 10 deliveries he faced. The first time Overton gave him an opportunity he repeated the stroke. A fourth strike came before tea. The extent that Smith was in control was highlighted by the last ball of that session, when Overton got it to spit before smashing into Smith’s thumb and head before rolling towards his stumps. Yet he had the presence of mind to get his stinging hand back on to the bat to parry the ball away. For Root, it must have been as ominous as any of the drives. Nothing was breaking Smith’s concentration.

In the space of 24 balls, the complexion of the game had changed. Smith was on one – and everyone knew it. Wisden’s editor, Lawrence Booth, formerly of this parish, put it best shortly after the interval. “Can anyone look nailed on for a hundred with 63 runs still to go?” he tweeted.

England’s captain, Joe Root, misses a catch from Australia’s Usman Khawaja. Photograph: David Gray/Reuters

In the space of a spell, Smith made Stuart Broad look a spent force. After disdainfully pulling for six, he middled him past point off the balls of his feet like it was not one of the hardest shots in the game. Off the pads he clipped with immaculate timing to the rope once more. Then for his final trick he adjusted mid-stroke to a bouncer that did not get up, bisecting two fielders. He flashed a knowing grin in response. Broad didn’t.

Neither did Root. He knows the deal. Smith probably reminds him of himself on the days when he is playing by different rules to the rest. When Usman Khawaja was on 32, Root did not get a hand to a chance at second slip. Related to what the Australian numero uno was up to? Surely. Smith responded by bringing up his half-century – in 58 balls, if you don’t mind – by launching into another cover drive.

At the final drinks break, an interview with Smith appeared on the big screen where he described his century in the corresponding fixture in 2013. It was the knock that changed it all, the moment where he proved to himself that he could really do it. Three boundaries in a row followed the beverage. Then a deft late cut. This was history repeating itself at the Waca.

With stumps looming, he put it away. The ton can wait for day three. But one last run took Australia to an even 200 behind, his stay successfully redefining the terms of reference for the contest. “He’s the sort of guy when he gets into a rhythm you don’t want to break it up,” Khawaja said afterwards. “More impressive is how Smudge bats in terms of the margin for error when you bowl to him is so little, as the English found out today.”

The lesson for Root through his side’s final intervention of the day, Woakes trapping Khawaja a couple of overs after being brought into the attack, was that they can make the game move fast, too. Smith showed him how it is done. Now it is his move.

Ashes diary: day two in Perth

Notting Hill prop finds home

A little piece of Hugh Grant lives at the Waca. Well, his character William Thacker more accurately. Two of the most iconic scenes in Notting Hill feature a park bench with the touching inscription, as read by Anna Scott (Julia Roberts) in the film: “For June who loved this garden, from Joseph who always sat beside her.” From London in 1999, it landed in Perth in 2002 when a local man bought it for his beloved. When their relationship didn’t last he gave it to Perth city council to sit in the Queens Gardens next to the ground. Happily ever after. AC

Rising cost of playing the fool

Perth is a city with a reputation and, after a couple of mining booms over the last decade and a half, a price tag to match. But the Waca scoreboard revealed hyperinflation of Weimar Republic levels. In Adelaide, the levy for partaking in “disorderly and offensive conduct” was $560. Here? A cool $6,000 (roughly £3,400), a 971% increase. Probably not the place to pour a beer over a mate’s head, then. AC

Fancy dress leaves fan in a sweat

Spare a thought for one England fan in a Morph suit. At a shade-free venue like the Waca, wearing these body stockings must be akin to sitting on a griddle. Behold one gentleman in St George’s cross colours, boasting a physical form of the sort the suits were not designed to accommodate. Clearly intrepid, he went it alone as a Barmy Army representative, invading the section of Richie Benaud impersonators. “Give us a song, Richies,” he demanded, and danced in the midday sun as they complied. One can only imagine the scenes that evening when he finally peeled the suit off. Drain the swamp, indeed. Geoff Lemon

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