The Australian batsman carefully spreads butter on each surface of a slice of plain bread. “That’s the secret,” he tells the camera as he brings down the lid of his grilled cheese press. “Boom. Then you get it toasted on the outside.” He lifts the lid to reveal a golden square of ideal crispiness, the gooey cheese happily bubbling away. “Here’s the key technique,” he explains. At which point, he does something unexpected and strange.
At this stage, I sense a sense of disinterest is beginning to cover your eyes. The red lights of overly fancy prose are blinking intensely. You’re likely conscious that Labuschagne scored 160 for his state team this week and is being widely discussed for an national team comeback before the England-Australia contest.
No doubt you’d prefer to read more about that. But first – you now understand with frustration – you’re going to have to endure a section of wobbling whimsy about toasties, plus an further tangential section of tiresome meta‑deconstruction in the second person. You groan once more.
Labuschagne flips the sandwich on to a serving plate and heads over the fridge. “It’s uncommon,” he states, “but I genuinely enjoy the cold toastie. Boom, in the fridge. You get that cheese to harden up, go bat, come back. Boom. Toastie’s ready to go.”
Alright, let’s try it like this. Let’s address the sports aspect initially? Quick update for your patience. And while there may be just six weeks until the first Test, Labuschagne’s century against Tasmania – his third this season in all formats – feels quietly decisive.
We have an Australia top three seriously lacking performance and method, shown up by South Africa in the WTC final, shown up once more in the Caribbean afterwards. Labuschagne was dropped during that series, but on some level you gathered Australia were desperate to rehabilitate him at the soonest moment. Now he looks to have given them the perfect excuse.
Here is a plan that Australia need to work. Usman Khawaja has one century in his past 44 innings. Konstas looks not quite a Test opener and closer to the attractive performer who might act as a batsman in a Bollywood epic. No other options has made a cogent case. One contender looks cooked. Marcus Harris is still surprisingly included, like unwanted guests. Meanwhile their leader, Pat Cummins, is injured and suddenly this seems like a weirdly lightweight side, missing strength or equilibrium, the kind of natural confidence that has often put Australia 2-0 up before a game starts.
Step forward Marnus: a world No 1 Test batter as just two years ago, recently omitted from the 50-over squad, the perfect character to return structure to a brittle empire. And we are told this is a more relaxed and thoughtful Labuschagne currently: a pared-down, fundamental-focused Labuschagne, no longer as extremely focused with technical minutiae. “It seems I’ve really cut out extras,” he said after his ton. “Less focused on technique, just what I need to make runs.”
Naturally, few accept this. In all likelihood this is a rebrand that exists just in Labuschagne’s own head: still constantly refining that technique from dawn to dusk, going more back to basics than anyone else would try. Like basic approach? Marnus will take time in the training with advisors and replays, thoroughly reshaping his game into the most basic batsman that has ever existed. This is just the nature of the addict, and the quality that has long made Labuschagne one of the highly engaging cricketers in the cricket.
Maybe before this highly uncertain Ashes series, there is even a type of pleasing dissonance to Labuschagne’s endless focus. For England we have a squad for whom detailed examination, not to mention self-review, is a risky subject. Feel the flavours. Stay in the moment. Embrace the current.
On the opposite side you have a batsman like Labuschagne, a player completely dedicated with the game and totally indifferent by public perception, who observes cricket even in the moments outside play, who treats this absurd sport with just the right measure of absurd reverence it demands.
And it worked. During his shamanic phase – from the moment he strode out to replace a concussed the senior batsman at Lord’s in 2019 to until late 2022 – Labuschagne was able to see the game with greater insight. To reach it – through absolute focus – on a elevated, strange, passionate tier. During his stint in club cricket, teammates would find him on the game day sitting on a park bench in a focused mindset, literally visualising every single ball of his innings. As per Cricviz, during the first few years of his career a statistically unfathomable number of chances were dropped off his bat. In some way Labuschagne had intuited what would happen before others could react to affect it.
Maybe this was why his career began to disintegrate the point he became number one. There were no worlds left to visualise, just a boundless, uncharted void before his eyes. Also – to be fair – he stopped trusting his favorite stroke, got stuck in his crease and seemed to forget where his off-stump was. 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 alignment. Good news: he’s now excluded from the one-day team.
Surely it matters, too, that Labuschagne is a devoutly religious individual, an religious believer who thinks that this is all predetermined, who thus sees his role as one of achieving this peak performance, no matter how mysterious it may appear to the mortal of us.
This approach, to my mind, has always been the key distinction between him and Steve Smith, a instinctive player
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