Lemon's Ashes Diary: I'm sorry Shane Watson, I am for real

I saw something very unfamiliar today. It was an utterly enjoyable day at the cricket for an Australian fan, as Shane Watson took the bloody show apart.

Yes, as the Ashes Diary tour has gone on, one thing we’ve learned to expect is that the many perks and joyous gifts and hospitality extended to us by England’s fair land do not extend to anything nice happening at the cricket.

I mean, there are nice bits – a Michael Clarke masterclass here, a Ryan Harris feelgood moment there, a sprinkling of Ashton Agar for the ladies – “He makes me blush in my pants,” was one memorable quote about the tall and smiling left-armer.

But each of those days had their warnings and premonitions, their worries and tensions. To sit and watch an entire day when nothing went wrong, and to do it with no care for the series scoreline, was a rare bit of sunshine for the soul.

Sure, we lost the odd wicket, but four in a day is good going. The early one was almost enjoyable, because afterwards we did exactly the opposite of the thing we usually do, which is collapse in a heap.

When we lost a couple after lunch, we just recovered again. When Shane Watson got smashed in the head, he didn’t stagger off injured. When he got into the 90s, he didn’t get nervous. When England selected their team, they thought it wise to follow our lead and swap their batsmen for club bowlers.

I was going to say that Shane Watson’s innings was like a thunderstorm that has been brewing and finally breaks, but it was more like a thunderstorm that happens somewhere really unlikely, like inside a cinema, with no logical precedence or scope for avoidance.

Watson belting three boundaries off an over from Chris Woakes was unlikely. Watson larruping Swann over long on like he was ladling soup from a vat was unlikely. Watson Bryce McGaining the debutant spinner Sam Kerrigan was a sight to be seen.

It was so good that I want to walk you through his first two overs. First ball, a single that takes Watson to a half century. Second, a single for Rogers.

So far so good.

Four. Dot. Four. Dot. New over.

Dot. Four. Four. Two. Four. Four. Two overs, 0/28, and welcome to Test cricket.

I can’t deny feeling sorry for Kerrigan. I felt sorry for Bryce McGain too. A leg spinner with an impressive first-class record, I still believe he may have held his own at Test level. But as with so many Australian selections, there was panic after one bad performance.

Apparently, Kerrigan is a very decent and hard-working bowler in country cricket, a guy who spears the ball in and gives it a real rip. Here, he was throwing lobs that barely rotated enough to open a doorlatch. He’d lost all control of his action, his intent, and quite possibly his bladder.

Watson had done the same thing to him in the tour game last weekend. When asked whether he’d been glad to hear Kerrigan was picked, Watson had to swallow a few laughs, and took five minutes trying to come up with a diplomatic answer.

For a player who has been so frustrating, there was a great sense of release seeing Watson bat with full freedom. It was even better to see him go on with it – dropped on 104, then attacking his highest Test score.

176 is perfect. A proper big bastard of a century, not close enough to any milestones to feel like he missed out. Yes, it would have been good to get him through to stumps, but some innings are about a single day, and today was Watto’s.

He even challenged an lbw call correctly.

Part of what made it so great was seeing a batsman on the best day of his career, taking an attack apart. Part of it was the epic trolling of all the people who want him out of the side. Don’t hate me, I have a trove of data on Watson’s declining average that I’ve had to put to one side.

Perhaps Greg Baum’s conspiracy theory was on the money: “Watson and England both have achieved their first objective this morning: he’s playing in Brisbane.” If that’s the case, I hope he munts a few more big ones like this on some of our highway decks.

But my best little moment? Steve Smith finally raising his half century at half past five, having faced 113 balls, on his way to batting out 45 overs unbeaten, celebrating with the most low-key nudge of the bat toward the applauding stands as he waited at the non-striker’s end.

The intent was clear. Thanks, pipe down, let me get on with it. 50 didn’t mean squat, he was there to do a longer job.

Smith has copped all sorts of flak about not being up to standard. But from the day he came back to Test cricket in Mohali and made 92, he’s shown dedication and application.

Sure, he may not be the most technically reliable. He may have faults. He might have scored his second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth and seventh runs today in one shot. But the ball was there to hit, and Smith has been impressive.

We all know that things could run differently tomorrow, but it’s been good to have today. Somewhere out there, twins in the London night, Watto and I will both be sleeping soundly, dreaming of James Faulkner’s century on debut.