England’s latest batting collapse puts Australia on verge of retaining Ashes – and that’s the least of their worries

First they came for Jason Roy. And I did not speak out, because there was a bit of movement, and in any case it’s tough opening the batting in England, and it was a decent ball from Josh Hazlewood, right in Roy’s corridor of uncertainty - which, admittedly, encompasses anywhere from around off-stump to the edge of the cut strip. But he’s the newest batsman in the team, and deserves a little patience, even if he seems to possess precious little himself.

Then they came for Joe Root. And I did not speak out, because it was a fine delivery, Hazlewood again, and No3 is hardly his best position, even when you’re not having to come in every week with 10 on the board, and when you’re facing a total of 179 the last thing you need to do is panic. And the sun’s out, and it should be a beautiful day for batting once the shine goes off the ball, and a score of 300 should be more than enough to level the series going to Old Trafford. Have a wine gum and settle down.

Then they came for Rory Burns. And I did not speak out, because he’s the top runscorer in the series, or at least the top human runscorer, Steve Smith’s precise species classification still pending. And because when you’re perceived to have a slight problem with the short ball, there’s nothing better than hooking one emphatically for four. Of course, if you glove it you rather exacerbate the issue, but that’s a negative mindset, like leaving the ball, or not getting out, and that’s just not how this England team play.

Then they came for Ben Stokes. And I did not speak out, because when you’ve won a World Cup final you’re permitted the odd utterly risible slash at an extremely wide delivery that you steer perfectly into the hands of slip. And in any case, Stokes may fancy himself as a coach one day, and when he does, that’s the sort of slip-catching-practice technique you can’t buy with money. Who says this England team aren’t in it for the long haul?

Then they came for Joe Denly. And I did not speak out, because for heaven’s sake, he’s Joe Denly, what did you expect? Fewer than seven edges and 16 plays and misses in 49 providence-kissed deliveries? And besides, at least Denly made it into double figures, which is more than any of the top three managed, although you expect surely Jonny Bairstow and Jos Buttler will join him before long.

Then they came for Jonny Bairstow. And I did not speak out, because if I did Bairstow would probably complain that there was a media vendetta against him or something, and in any case he really, really tried not to edge this one. In a way, he was befuddled by his own rich talent, the sheer smorgasbord of options amassed before him. The mere mortal sees a short-length delivery just outside off stump and spots a potential danger, a ball to be left alone at all costs.

Bairstow, instead, sees only possibilities. Will it be the Compton pull? The Bradman-esque late cut? The Gooch heave over mid-on? The Jayawardene back-foot drive? Or the watery, indeterminate footwork-free prod whose only possible result is an edge to slip? Poor Jonny, too gifted for his own damn good. Remember: it’s never a poor shot, only poor execution.

Then they came for Chris Woakes. And I did not speak out, because it was the first ball after lunch and I was still making my way upstairs to the press box after an extremely average meal. And then they came for Jos Buttler, and I did not speak out because, come on: under no conceivable circumstances, real or fictional, could that be the shot of a well man. Just try and queue up the list of malign circumstances that would lead one of the world’s most talented batsmen to drive a good-length ball straight to short extra cover when a fielder has been inserted there for precisely that purpose. First ball after lunch. When you’re 56-7. Did he see the fielder? Did he see the scoreboard? When you’ve gone straight from a Test tour of the West Indies into a white-ball tour of the West Indies, into an exhausting IPL season, into a World Cup build-up, into an exhausting World Cup, into the most emotionally draining game of your life, straight into an Ashes series, via media and sponsor commitments, all while becoming a father for the first time in April, then to misquote John Arlott: do you really see anything at all?

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Then they came for Jofra Archer. And I did not speak out, because he’s the future of English cricket, god help him. And because on the fifth evening at Lord’s he tweeted a picture of an old man with a walking stick struggling to get up from the sofa, with the caption “Me getting out of bed tomorrow morning”, and everyone liked and retweeted it because it was funny, but in retrospect did anyone else find it slightly concerning that a 24-year-old fast bowler one game into his Test career was already complaining of aching joints? Not that it stopped Root giving him another 18 overs on Thursday, and then another eight on Friday, before he hobbled off the field with injury.

They they came for Jack Leach, and I did not speak out, because what else is there left to say? A grand total of 67 all out, the Ashes all but gone, England’s worst batting humiliation since July, and the only reason you hesitate to call it an insult to the paying public is that under no circumstances could the paying public say they weren’t warned. It was the third time in their last 10 completed innings that England had failed to pass 100. They haven’t scored 400 in a year, they haven’t scored 400 in the first innings since the last Ashes, they haven’t scored 400 in the first innings at home for more than two years. Afterwards, batting coach Graham Thorpe pointed out that Headingley had seen plenty of hefty fourth innings chases in the past, and out of politeness nobody laughed.

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They’ve tried different players. They’ve tried different combinations. They’ve tried white-ball specialists and red-ball stalwarts. They’ve shuffled the middle order so many times you vaguely suspect it might not be the root of the problem. Come the end of the summer, they’ll try a new coach and possibly even a new captain. What they won’t try, of course, is moving Championship cricket back to the summer months, or playing less international cricket and giving the team more time to rest and prepare. Because that would cut into the ECB’s revenues, and if you’re not driving revenues in Britain in 2019, then do you even really exist?

Besides, the grounds are still full, Sky are locked in for another four years and we’re world champions. Next year will be geared towards the World Twenty20 and The Hundred, which England’s Test players will be actively encouraged to play in. And although the primacy of five-day cricket will remain theoretically sacrosanct, it will be observed in word alone. Because once one generation of cricketers loses the knack of Test batting, you can’t just magically implant it into the next. Once you’ve realigned your entire set of priorities around short-form cricket, you can’t flick it off like a switch. The point is this: if ever there was a time to speak out, it’s probably been and gone.