Marnus methodically applies butter on each surface of a slice of plain bread. “That’s essential,” he explains as he lowers the lid of his sandwich grill. “Boom. Then you get it golden on each side.” He checks inside to reveal a golden square of pure toasted goodness, the melted cheese happily melting inside. “And that’s the trick of the trade,” he explains. At which point, he does something horrific and unspeakable.
At this stage, you may feel a glaze of ennui is beginning to cover your eyes. The alarm bells of sportswriting pretension are going off. You’re no doubt informed that Labuschagne made 160 runs for his state team this week and is being widely discussed for an return to the Test side before the Ashes series.
No doubt you’d prefer to read more about cricket matters. But first – you now realise with an anguished sigh – you’re going to have to endure three paragraphs of playful digression about toasties, plus an further tangential section of tiresome meta‑deconstruction in the “you” perspective. You sigh again.
Labuschagne flips the sandwich on to a serving plate and moves toward the fridge. “It’s uncommon,” he states, “but I personally prefer the cold toastie. Done, in the fridge. You get that cheese to harden up, go for a hit, come back. Alright. It’s ideal.”
Okay, to cut to the chase. How about we cover the match details initially? Small reward for making it this far. And while there may be just six weeks until the first Test, Labuschagne’s hundred against the Tigers – his third this season in all cricket – feels significantly impactful.
Here’s an Australian top order clearly missing consistency and technique, exposed by South Africa in the WTC final, highlighted further in the West Indies after that. Labuschagne was dropped during that tour, but on one hand you gathered Australia were eager to bring him back at the soonest moment. Now he looks to have given them the ideal reason.
This represents a strategy Australia must implement. Khawaja has a single hundred in his recent 44 batting efforts. Konstas looks not quite a first-innings batsman and rather like the good-looking star who might play a Test opener in a Indian film. No other options has presented a strong argument. Nathan McSweeney looks finished. Another option is still oddly present, like unwanted guests. Meanwhile their skipper, the pace bowler, is unfit and suddenly this appears as a weirdly lightweight side, short of authority or balance, the kind of built-in belief that has often given Australia a lead before a ball is bowled.
Step forward Marnus: a world No 1 Test batter as in the recent past, recently omitted from the one-day team, the perfect character to restore order to a shaky team. And we are told this is a more relaxed and thoughtful Labuschagne these days: a simplified, back-to-basics Labuschagne, less maniacally obsessed with technical minutiae. “I feel like I’ve really cut out extras,” he said after his century. “Not overthinking, just what I should make runs.”
Naturally, nobody truly believes this. In all likelihood this is a fresh image that exists just in Labuschagne’s personal view: still furiously stripping down that method from all day, going more back to basics than anyone has ever dared. Like basic approach? Marnus will devote weeks in the training with advisors and replays, exhaustively remoulding himself into the most basic batsman that has ever played. That’s the nature of the addict, and the quality that has always made Labuschagne one of the most wildly absorbing players in the cricket.
Perhaps before this highly uncertain historic rivalry, there is even a type of appealing difference to Labuschagne’s unquenchable obsession. On England’s side we have a squad for whom technical study, let alone self-analysis, is a forbidden topic. Trust your gut. Be where the ball is. Live in the instant.
In the other corner you have a individual like Labuschagne, a individual terminally obsessed with the game and magnificently unbothered by others’ opinions, who finds cricket even in the spaces between the cricket, who approaches this quirky game with precisely the amount of odd devotion it demands.
This approach succeeded. During his focused era – from the instant he appeared to replace a concussed Smith at the famous ground in 2019 to through 2022 – Labuschagne was able to see the game on another level. To tap into it – through sheer intensity of will – on a different, unusual, intense plane. During his time with club cricket, colleagues noticed him on the game day positioned on a seat in a trance-like state, actually imagining every single ball of his time at the crease. Per cricket statisticians, during the initial period of his career a statistically unfathomable number of chances were dropped off his bat. Somehow Labuschagne had intuited what would happen before others could react to influence it.
Maybe this was why his performance dipped the moment he reached the summit. There were no worlds left to visualise, just a unknown territory before his eyes. Additionally – he lost faith in his signature shot, got trapped on the crease and seemed to misjudge his positioning. But it’s all the same thing. Meanwhile his mentor, D’Costa, thinks a focus on white-ball cricket started to erode confidence in his technique. Good news: he’s now excluded from the ODI side.
Surely it matters, too, that Labuschagne is a devoutly religious individual, an committed Christian who holds that this is all preordained, who thus sees his task as one of achieving this peak performance, despite being puzzling it may look to the rest of us.
This mindset, to my mind, has consistently been the key distinction between him and Steve Smith, a instinctive player
A tech enthusiast and journalist with over a decade of experience covering emerging technologies and digital transformations.