Smashing his way through adversity and quelling the haters - the Mitch Marsh journey may have only just begun

There is a special place in an Australian cricket fan’s heart for a batter who rescues the national team on the biggest stage.

It is partly why Allan Border, Steve Waugh, Ricky Ponting, Michael Clarke (in South Africa) and Michael Hussey are so revered.

But there is another more exclusive place in our hearts, probably only occupied by Adam Gilchrist, possibly Andrew Symonds and more recently Travis Head, reserved for batters who do it in the fashion Mitch Marsh did in Leeds.

Bang, crash, whack. There is nothing quite like a counterpunch ton in Test cricket.

There is no other way to review it: Marsh’s 118 is unequivocally one of the great modern day Ashes innings in style, substance and importance.

As the first Aussie to score 100 runs in a session against England in 85 years, his cross-bat shot-making was Gilchrist-like and his off driving Hayden-esque.

Australia batter Mitchell Marsh celebrates his century. (Photo by Stu Forster/Getty Images)

A measure of the knock is when the next highest score is 39. Extras, with a well-made 23, was third. They call Marsh ‘The Bison’, but at Headingley on day one he was a unicorn.

Consider the situation when he marched to the crease. Yes, he marched. His chest was out. His breaths were deep. He had trained himself to narrow his focus in these moments. To play the ball and not the occasion.

Nothing-to-lose sportspeople are more threatening than any other type. To get himself in that mindframe, Marsh had to truly believe it, which is remarkable given the occasion.

Steve Smith had just been dismissed. Australia were 4-85. Finally, the English had produced a pitch with pace and picked a bowling attack to capitalise on conditions.

He joined Head, gave him a purposeful glove punch, and the two went to work. He was dropped, a dolly by Joe Root at slip, but this should not be held against him in the same way it should be held against the sloppy English.

When Marsh is on, his bat appears the width of a tree stump. In these moods it is as if he’s wielding a plank of wood freshly cut from the forest.

He pulled off length, often through mid-wicket and mid-on – a sure way to demonstrate his razor-sharp eye – and grunted like Serena Williams every time he cut.

So brutal were some of his shots, the cameramen got flustered and struggled to track the ball off his Gray Nicolls plank. It was riveting, engrossing and frankly electrifying.

Mitchell Marsh celebrates with Travis Head after reaching his century. (Photo by Stu Forster/Getty Images)

Style and power is one thing, but consider Marsh’s journey back to the Test team. It’s worth noting that had Will Sutherland been fit, it’s unlikely the maligned West Aussie would have been named in the touring party at all.

It is also worth noting that four years ago, Marsh spoke candidly about his vexed reputation in the eyes of the Australian public.

“Most of Australia hates me,” he said.

“There’s no doubt I’ve had a lot of opportunities at Test level and I haven’t quite nailed it… hopefully I’ll win them over one day.”

It’s not tangible, but I suspect part of the reason Aussie fans mocked the all-rounder was because of his supremely talented but frustratingly laconic older brother.

Shaun Marsh’s Test career included six hundreds – two of them in Sri Lanka – at an average of 34. Fairly or otherwise, the overriding feeling is that he under-achieved given the talent he possessed.

While Shaun was wafting at half volleys, younger brother Mitch was handed opportunities he later conceded he probably didn’t deserve. Two 50s in his first 37 Test knocks hardly silenced the doubters, of which I was one.

Even twin tons against England in 2017/18 were followed by a stretch of injuries and mixed form.

In the aftermath of Andrew Flintoff’s 2005 Ashes, Shane Watson and Symonds were more than serviceable all-rounders, but we longed for something more destructive. A genuine top six batter who bowled 135kph. Marsh, through no fault of his own, was groomed to fill that chasm.

His continued selection and his brother’s inconsistent form led to Marsh fatigue (not an official diagnosis). It was illogical to group them as one, but we’d be lying if we said we never did. Fans were tired of them.

In Marsh’s 15 Test digs before Leeds, he had passed 25 just once.

But cricket careers at the top level are long and either winding or turbulent. Of Australia’s top six, only Marnus Labuschagne has enjoyed a traditional entry into the Test arena.

Marsh – like Usman Khawaja, Steve Smith, and Travis Head – is undoubtedly better for the adversity he has been forced to endure. This has always been the strength of Australian cricket.

It might take a decade of frustrations and undulations, but making them earn it creates more rounded, resilient cricketers. Hello to Damien Martyn, Simon Katich, Justin Langer and many of their comrades who were burnt but came good in their twilight years.

Andrew Symonds, also an all-rounder with brutal ball striking abilities, had a similar career arc to Marsh up to his match-winning ton against Pakistan in the opening game of the 2003 World Cup.

If Marsh stuck at it, the selectors opined, he could become a critical white ball player. Thus it proved in 2021 when he steered the Aussies to an unlikely T20 World Cup victory from first drop.

His ankle surgery in the summer paused his short form momentum and any distant aspirations for a Test call-up, but an unbeaten 108 in the first week of March for Western Australia convinced the selectors he was equipped to stand in for wonderkid Cam Green if needed.

Still, nobody could have foreseen what transpired at Leeds.

The Marsh we see today is less of an enigma than he ever has been. He’s no longer maligned as the boy with a famous surname who got everything before he had earned it.

And at 31, there is every reason to believe he has at least four more years of high-class international cricket left in him.

Green, like Hayden behind Taylor and Gilchrist behind Healy, will now rightly be forced to wait his turn.

We’ve said this before but now I fully believe it: Mitchell Marsh’s story may have only just begun.