‘Enigma’ Johnson awakens a dormant art

As Mitchell Johnson continued to attack the heart of the England cricket team, you felt as though he was not only making a statement in terms of his own performance, but questioning the modern understanding of cricket.

In a time where teams value compromises, structure, organisation and logic, Johnson illustrated the unpredictable and irregular nature that makes Test cricket what it is, and showed in the same performance why it could never be understood nor properly replaced.

The term ‘enigma’ was often used to describe his performance after the first Test, the question of consistency still hanging over the shocked air.

It was the surrounding feeling that a sneaking suspicion had been realised at the Gabba, but that a flat pitch would show a predictable performance from the man known for producing the occasional ‘one-hit wonder’ every occasional series.

To expect such a first-innings display in the second Test was ludicrous, illogical, and against history, for however well the monolithic man had handled the reoccurring diatribes consistently sent his way from every Englishman (with special mention to the Barmy Army), he was still our Mitchell Johnson.

Or was he?

Johnson wanted to prove it to himself in Adelaide. After his first innings demolition of England in the second Test he stated, “I wanted to back it up”, spoken as if he wanted to quash self-doubt through his actions.

Though it didn’t appear as though he genuinely minded about proving himself to the Australian public, only those he cared about.

Which is probably wise too. Johnson by now knows he cannot win with the public, local or abroad, although he will accept the accolades.

Consistency, although strived for, will never feature in Johnson like it does Peter Siddle and Ryan Harris, for he is an ‘enigma’.

By definition he is “difficult to understand”, and while he personally understands his role better now, Australia’s tenth all-time highest wicket-taker knows he will probably never finish a hero.

After all, just three weeks ago nobody in Australia really believed he should be in the team, let alone succeeding.

It is rather unfortunate he is a bowler in this sense. In a sport with few modern-regarded enigmas, those who are are generally paraded, and, at their worst, tolerated.

Most are batsmen – Kevin Pietersen and David Warner come to mind – able to win you a Test match by themselves.

They are an acceptable risk, for even if they fail, they are surrounded by five batsmen, a wicketkeeper, and generally bowlers who can all bat.

A failure by one doesn’t necessarily mean a poor batting performance.

However with only four bowlers, if one fails, an unacceptable pressure falls on the other three, and the capacity for failure, as well as injury, rises sharply.

Simply, in the modern day of predictability and tried certainty, a bowling enigma is generally unfancied.

It is why one of the great arts of cricket has become near non-existent. Seriously quick bowling is a random asset, but a usual liability.

Johnson, a few years back, said in a press conference “If I don’t know where the ball is going to go, how will the batsman”, which is a valid point, and a very enticing prospect when it’s your day.

However, if you have no control, and it’s not your day, the team’s day is most likely ruined.

And there lies the dilemma. In an era where we’ve seen a general shift in priority from taking wickets to negating boundaries, of deep points and covers set lines and lengths for each opposing batsman, and beers to ice baths, an uncertainty like a Johnson becomes an unsound proposition for a professional and disciplined side.

Interestingly, Australia was really defaulted into Johnson.

Keen for a left-arm pace bowler to exploit a supposed English weakness, Alistair Cook in particular, one would only assume the austerity of Mitchell Starc would have been enough to earn him a spot, if only he were not injured.

Yet, the nation was left with the supposedly ersatz Mitchell Johnson. The result being a recent trend of slower-fast bowlers in international cricket was bucked, a trend involving Australia but not endemic and limited to.

South Africa are another in this area, the recent emergence of Vernon Philander and the slowing of Dale Steyn in order for increased accuracy are just recent examples.

England, too, have generally played upon slower pitches in recent times with, due to natural forces, more life, meaning serious pace is not necessary though still valued.

A team’s desire for consistency and ability to maintain plans, a players desire for proper commensuration in domestic T20 leagues, and a fan’s desire for consistent and not intermittent success are all reasons why it is right for bowlers of serious pace to not play Test cricket.

Yet Mitchell Johnson has just given everybody a reason for them in the modern game, and proven however irregular the performances, the ‘enigma’ can still be worth it, as evident by England’s now quixotic chase to retain the Ashes.

Hopefully that’s enough to awaken the dormant art.