Ashes 2019: Jofra Archer derails Australia to keep England's quest judderingly on course

Shortly before 7pm at a dim and greying Headingley, the ball flew off the edge of James Pattinson’s bat, towards Joe Root at first slip. The England captain was thrown several steps backwards by the force of the encounter, and as he slowly regained his balance, his hands clasped around the ball, the expression on his face was not one of elation or euphoria, but of grim, furrowed relief. Relief that he had clung on. Relief that the potential for calamity had again, just about, been averted.

It was a moment that rather summed up his side’s day: an advantage firmly secured, but at no little cost to the nerves. Like an airline passenger clambering aboard just as the jet bridge is being winched away, England stared disaster square in the mouth, only to avert their gaze in the nick of time. And so at the conclusion of an extremely silly day of Test cricket, one that fully lived up to Headingley’s reputation for caprice, contrariness and violent reversals in fortune, England’s quest to regain the Ashes remains choppily, judderingly on course.

Rewind a couple of hours, however, and a radically different narrative was unfolding. An hour after tea on this truncated, rain-flecked day, and having been put into bat, Australia were 136-2 and rattling on at more than a run a ball. David Warner had ridden some outrageous early luck and was carving the ball pretty much where he wanted, abetted by some brainless bowling. Twice in the space of a few overs, a quick single had ended up rolling over the boundary for five overthrows. The body language was abject. The Ashes were on the plane, and here were England, still fumbling for their boarding passes.

So what happened? First, Root realised the urgency of the situation. He hauled the abject Chris Woakes and Ben Stokes out of the attack. Next, he returned the ball to his senior bowler Stuart Broad, whose new-ball spell earlier in the day had been his best for England in maybe two years. And then he rang the alarm. In case of Australian counter-attack, Break Glass For Jofra.

Archer’s first spell, in amongst the fitful and frequent interruptions for rain and bad light, had been… fine. It had produced the wicket of Marcus Harris, preferred to the luckless Cameron Bancroft. But on the whole it had been too short, too skittish, too nakedly eager. Headingley first mornings demand relentless discipline on off-stump, and as Australia clung doggedly on, it was hard to shake the feeling that Archer had let them off the hook a touch.

His second spell brooked no argument. In its second over, he removed Warner for 61 with a devastating precision missile that straightened off the pitch and tickled the outside edge. In the next, he got a flick of fortune, bowling Matthew Wade off the thigh pad. Then, after a short breather, and with the fearless Marnus Labuschagne stapling himself to the crease, he returned to polish off the tail: six wickets for 45 runs, and if the temptation was to anoint a new tearaway English pace destroyer, Archer’s maiden Test five-wicket haul was in fact irrefutable evidence of a ruthlessly quick learner.

In terms of pace, this was some way slower than his breakthrough spell at Lord’s: more high-80s than mid-90s, although the whippy bouncer remained a regular threat to both chins and composure. But by the time he returned for his second dig, he appeared to have heeded the lessons of his first. There was evidence of adaptation, of conditions being read, lengths being honed. This was, remember, his first ever red-ball game at Headingley, and for all the spellbinding theatre he is capable of producing, it is his surgical bowling instincts that should be the real point of excitement.

For the Australians, a promising day sawn off at the knees. In the case of Labuschagne, this was literally true: having batted beautifully for 74, leaving with refinement, ruthlessly punishing the bad balls and surviving a painful blow to the family silver along the way, he finally perished to a knee-high full toss from Stokes that sent him sprawling to the ground, and thereafter back to the pavilion after unsuccessfully reviewing his LBW call. The flimsiness of the middle and lower order should worry them, as should the bright sunshine forecast for days two and three.

Headingley can be a wonderful place to make runs when the sun shines. And so, if they negotiate the new ball and bat well, England now have a glorious opportunity to turn the screw. Of course, this remains something of a leap of faith where this England side are concerned. And yet at the end of a riotous two hours under the Headingley clouds, it was impossible not to feel that a switch had been decisively flicked: that thanks to a little bald luck and a brilliant young fast bowler, this wild and inscrutable Ashes series had just offered up its latest turn.