Steve Smith, Gabba, century. Not a surprising combination of words, for a player with a 10th of his career runs at the venue, one decent innings away from taking that number past 1,000. More surprising given the way that contemporary Smith has been grinding away for a long while without notable success, an engine revving that won’t turn over.
His hundred on day two of the third Test against India on Sunday was his fourth in Brisbane, and could not have been more different to the other three. India in 2014 and Pakistan in 2016 were breezy, boundaries flying, Smith in purple pomp. England in 2017 was a masterpiece of concentration, 326 balls faced, striking at barely 40, batting eight and a half hours to hold together an innings that was slipping away. Never had he worked harder, yet even at its toughest, it still never seemed that he would actually get out. He was so good that success seemed preordained.
In this different era of Smith, the coin has found its inverse. The last few years, blinking in confusion at having been transported back to the realm of mortals, survival has become the side less likely. Struggle is the given, success the exception. Through his first 30 runs today, into his third hour either side of the lunch break, Smith looked close to falling time and again.
Back to wandering around the crease, a shift in technique from Adelaide and Perth, his adjustment had not had time to click. He was slow on the ball, pushing outside off stump, reaching awkwardly around the front pad to keep the ball out. Nudges down the leg side were risky. Thigh pads got battered. Edges landed safe. Three moments were closest: a swinging Mohammed Siraj yorker that he got a corner of timber to; a ball padded away that was umpire’s call on kissing the off bail; and an inside edge that cleared the stumps and beat the keeper’s glove.
Marnus Labuschagne looked the more controlled but fell to a loose drive for 12. Smith scrabbled, battled, crabbed, clawed, and had the fortune a batter often needs. Eventually, on 31, his only boundaries to date having been off an edge, he hit the sweetest straight drive from Akash Deep that surprised the stadium into a mass inhalation and a tiny moment of silence. India’s bowlers began to tire, Smith began to build.
With 49 on his back and 49 on the scoreboard, a single took him past a half-century for the first time since his most recent Gabba visit, late January earlier this year. Seven innings between 50s is not a mighty drought, but only once before in his career has Smith waited so long – and those seven were on the tour of India last year, before he snapped the streak with his World Test Championship century in London.
By this time he had the advantage of Travis Head on 75, a player so breezy that he fills his partner’s sails. Head had at least as many false shots as Smith, but he always does: he is a statistical anomaly in trying such a risky game but consistently pulling it off. Smith was able to cruise along behind, upping his own tempo first with pulls and cuts, then some increasingly confident drives, through cover, mid-off, and most aesthetically mid-on. Fifty to 100 was a far easier journey. A gap of 24 innings between hundreds was also a career-high. Head, meanwhile, burned away to 152.
You will read, based on this innings, that “Smith is back”. Respectfully, he is not, and that is not the point. Smith cannot be the Smith of old, because that was a height nobody can sustain. At one stage that player had a streak of 26 centuries in 99 innings. The player we have now has scored seven in his last 75. The first half of his career against India returned seven centuries and averaged 84. The second half has three centuries and an average half as many. And that’s OK, given he can still produce innings like this.
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When Smith nicked Jasprit Bumrah shortly after reaching his century, he had steadied his team: a shaky spot at two down for 38 had become a safe 316 for four. While a couple more wickets followed quickly thanks to Bumrah, Alex Carey would finish the day well with the bat to ensure Australia’s advantage at 405 for seven.
For Smith, though, the effort wasn’t enough. He had the presence of mind to appreciate the crowd’s appreciation as he walked off, turning a full circle in salute, but he wasn’t ready to be so generous to himself, throwing down his helmet and mouthing an easily parsable “Fuck!” after crossing the rope. In these later days when a route through the treacherous start of an innings is rarer to safely navigate, Steve Smith did not believe that with 101 runs he had sailed to sufficient reward.
