“I really don’t have any answers for you.” – Anrich Nortjé on South Africa’s bowling tactics.
TELFORD VICE at The Wanderers
FULL and straight, you idiot. Where’ve we heard that before? Where haven’t we heard it before, more like. We heard it again at the Wanderers on Saturday, and far stronger language than “idiot” was used as the full extent of South Africa’s folly was exposed to an increasingly disgruntled crowd on a beer-drenched afternoon in the sun.
When Jos Buttler hoiked Vernon Philander high into the covers and Dean Elgar kept his nerve and his eye on the ball to take a fine running catch over his shoulder, a bothersome stand of 40 was ended. Having reduced England to 309/8 South Africa had a decent chance of getting out of there alive, or at least for around the 319 that’s the average first innings total at this ground. Two proper doses of full and straight, and they should been batting.
Instead, the innings endured for another 81 deliveries — precious few among them anything like full and straight — that cost 91 runs. England went from being in danger of dismissal for a below average total to posting the 13th highest score in the 81 first innings at the Wanderers. The stand of 82 that Mark Wood shared with Stuart Board is the biggest yet seen in the 41 Tests played here. England’s Nos. 9, 10 and jack hammered 24 runs in fours and another 42 in sixes — or 72.53% of the aggregate for the last two partnerships.
They were able to do so, in part, because Woakes, Wood and Broad have between them scored two centuries and 17 half-centuries in Tests, in which they have a combined average of a touch more than 20. They are nobody’s idea of walking wickets.
But they are a long way from how good South Africa’s tactics made them look. The approach appeared to be to bowl short and wide. And to spread the field in hopes of a catch. What the Faf? That the buck stops with Faf du Plessis is undeniable, and as it should be, but closer to the truth is that the bowling plan for the match is devised by the bowlers themselves along with Charl Langeveldt. That said, it’s up to Du Plessis to realise when plan A isn’t working, and if he couldn’t do that on Saturday it’s fair to ask whether he has lost his bearings as a captain. In Du Plessis defence, only half the plan wasn’t working. Philander bowled 13 of those last 81 deliveries and conceded a solitary single, and Anrich Nortjé sent down 24 balls and begrudged three runs. But Dane Paterson went for 39 off 26 and Beuran Hendricks bled 34 off 18.
How aren’t the sorrier parts of that equation signals for Du Plessis to tell Dwaine Pretorius — who bowled at least nine fewer overs in the innings than anyone else — to warm up? Or to get Elgar to bowl some of the slow left-arm filth that has somehow claimed the wickets Steve Smith, Cheteshwar Pujara, Shikhar Dhawan, Alex Hales, Misbah-ul-Haq and Mayank Agarwal? Or even to unleash Temba Bavuma, who would have become the 21st man to take a wicket — that of Usman Khawaja at the WACA in November 2016 — with his first delivery in Test cricket had he not fetched from somewhere a delivery stride longer than he is tall and overstepped? Better yet, why wasn’t the field more attacking? Or at least less defensive — at a stage there was only two men, besides the bowler and the wicketkeeper, not on the boundary. Even better, why didn’t Du Plessis or Langeveldt or anyone demand a steady stream of full and straight? The lack of ideas and leadership was shocking, and damning evidence of how far this team have crashed in the 26 days since they won in Centurion. Yes, they actually won.
Nortjé finished with 5/110 on Saturday, his first five-wicket haul in his sixth Test. With the illogicality of how these things are mismanaged, it fell to him to come and explain to the press where it all went wrong. After a few unconvincing attempts, he came up with the bitter truth: “I really don’t have any answers for you. It’s not nice sitting here and having our tails down. I would have loved for us to be in a dominant position when it happened.”
There wasn’t time or opportunity enough to find proper answers once South Africa’s slide towards a significant first innings deficit started. It was a story of submission for the most part, but the mood lifted incongruously after Du Plessis’ luck deserted him completely and he was sent packing by Rod Tucker despite Woakes hitting him on the flap of his front pad as he rose onto his toes to try to work a delivery to leg. Unsurprisingly, Du Plessis referred. Even less surprisingly, the gizmo said the ball would have kissed the apex of the bails just hard enough for the umpire’s call to stay in England’s favour.
With that South Africa slumped to 60/4. But you would never have guessed from the clamour that rose from a section of the spectators in the Unity Stand at the Corlett Drive End. That’s where the Gwijo Squad, the all-dancing, all-singing, almost all-black but enthusiastically all-inclusive group of South Africa supporters who sprang to prominence during the Springboks’ march to triumph at last year’s rugby World Cup, were stationed. Long before anyone could see Bavuma, the Squad heralded his imminent presence: “Temba! Temba! Temba!” He faced his first delivery of the series with five slips bristling behind his back, and a roar ripped in all directions as he deftly dabbed that ball through cover point for three. “In Temba We Trust” read a banner, and soon a song in isiZulu was rippling round the ground. “This is Temba. If you didn’t know him before, now you see him,” the refrain went. But the bubble of happiness burst less than eight overs later when Bavuma failed to get on top of a short delivery from Wood and Ben Stokes held a sharp, low catch at second slip.
At least, the bubble of happiness should have burst. But the Gwijo Squad were having none of it and kept singing and dancing throughout the remaining 25 balls of the day’s play, one of which claimed Nortjé’s wicket. The party continued as they left the stands and wound their way round the concourse, apparently uncaring that South Africa will resume 312 behind on Sunday and with Quinton de Kock their last hope of significantly closing the gap. When you’re all out of reality, unreality will have to do.
First published by Cricbuzz.