Harry Brook has become the lightning rod for England’s Ashes immolation, the repository of a nation’s critical rage. It is precisely because of his preternatural gifts that the fingers are pointing at him, a generational cricketer tossing it away like A.N. Other.
Brook was a Bazballer before Bazball. He is racking up Test runs at very un-English lick, a tad shy of 3,000 at a strike rate of 87.4.
He fits effortlessly into the dashing blade category previously occupied by the likes of Kevin Pietersen, the late Robin Smith and David Gower, touched by genius according to the celebratory commentary that follows him. One cliche begets another, with genius comes the flaw, apparently.
Well, with talent comes responsibility. Tipped as a future skipper, at 26 and vice-captain on this tour Brook is part of the leadership group. The requirement is to set the example, which in his case means gearing down not doubling down on attacking instincts.
His second innings exit in the first Test in Perth, driving at the third ball he faced, and a wide one at that, was as ugly as it was injudicious. The agricultural swipe that cost him in Brisbane was the shot of a drunken sailor.
England were 176 for three having been five for two. At the other end Joe Root was crafting the archetypal innings that would yield that elusive century in Australia. This felt like the mission critical moment, England’s best batsmen at the crease needing to put scoreboard pressure on an Australian team that had blown through them in two days in Perth.
Brook had made 31 from 32 balls. His head was full of Bazball bombast instead of game smarts. Mitchell Starc was halfway to saying sorry for the nothing ball he floated when he upgraded the apology to celebration. Brook flailed at it and was gone.
Is he recognising the game scenario? Wondered Stuart Broad, turning on his former teammate like a frustrated headmaster trying to fathom the wanton waste of talent in his end of year reports. It seems Brook is suffering from the group think that conflates bravado with brains.
Elite sport is about observing fundamentals. There are no short cuts. Brook was beaten in Perth and Brisbane not by good balls but bad shots. The Bazball imperative to believe yourself better mistakes positivity for strength, purpose for judgment. It has turned England into sporting mystics, imagining themselves touched by a spiritual power beyond the reach of opponents.
This conceit has made chumps out of good players in Australia and forced upon the broken England squad a fearful reckoning. Skipper Ben Stokes is wandering about the parish in some sort of primordial angst, seeking out the “weak men” in the group.
This is how Stokes plays sport, an instinctive fireball seeking not to win but to crush. Thus the third Test has become as well as an Ashes decider a determinant of character, a test of the kind of bloke you are.
What that approach fails to recognise is the pre-condition of this feature in the process. Elite sport is by definition a test of character as well as skill. If you have to ask the character question of your teammates at this point, the game has already found them out.
Should peeling back the layers be the way forward then let the focus be on cricket. And if Brook be the example, then lock him in a room with Geoffrey Boycott for half an hour, not only as a punishment but also as a reminder of the value of discipline and responsibility over derring-do.
Brook sees the ball as purely as any in the game, but not always the bigger picture. A mere 2,918 runs in 32 Tests do not lie. These are the numbers of a special player, yet talent alone is never enough.
Application is essential too, marrying the approach to the moment, the shot to the situation. Humility over hubris, basics over Bazball, that is the only hope now, for Harry and for England.
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