Marnus methodically applies butter on the top and bottom of a slice of white bread. “That’s essential,” he states as he lowers the lid of his toastie maker. “Perfect. Then you get it crisp on both sides.” He opens the grill to reveal a toasted delight of delicious perfection, the bubbling cheese happily melting inside. “So this is the secret method,” he explains. At which point, he does something shocking and odd.
At this stage, you may feel a layer of boredom is beginning to cover your eyes. The red lights of elaborate writing are flashing wildly. You’re probably aware that Labuschagne hit 160 for Queensland Bulls this week and is being eagerly promoted for an return to the Test side before the Ashes series.
You likely wish to read more about cricket matters. But first – you now grasp with irritation – 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 sigh again.
Labuschagne flips the sandwich on to a serving plate and walks across the fridge. “Few try this,” he remarks, “but I personally prefer the grilled sandwich chilled. Done, in the fridge. You get that cheese to harden up, go bat, come back. Alright. Sandwich is perfect.”
Okay, to cut to the chase. Shall we get the sports aspect out of the way first? Quick update for your patience. And while there may be just six weeks until the series opener, Labuschagne’s hundred against the Tasmanian side – his third this season in all cricket – feels significantly impactful.
We have an Aussie opening batsmen seriously lacking consistency and technique, exposed by the South African team in the Test championship decider, shown up once more in the West Indies after that. Labuschagne was omitted during that series, but on a certain level you felt Australia were keen to restore him at the first opportunity. Now he seems to have given them the ideal reason.
And this is a approach the team should follow. The opener has one century in his last 44 knocks. Konstas looks less like a Test opener and closer to the attractive performer who might act as a batsman in a Bollywood movie. No other options has presented a strong argument. Nathan McSweeney looks cooked. Marcus Harris is still inexplicably hanging around, like unwanted guests. Meanwhile their leader, the pace bowler, is injured and suddenly this feels like a weirdly lightweight side, missing command or stability, the kind of effortless self-assurance that has often helped Australia dominate before a ball is bowled.
Step forward Marnus: a leading Test player as in the recent past, just left out from the 50-over squad, the right person to restore order to a fragile lineup. And we are informed this is a more relaxed and thoughtful Labuschagne now: a simplified, back-to-basics Labuschagne, no longer as intensely fixated with small details. “It seems I’ve really stripped it back,” he said after his century. “Less focused on technique, just what I should score runs.”
Of course, this is doubted. Probably this is a rebrand that exists only in Labuschagne’s own head: still constantly refining that method from dawn to dusk, going deeper into fundamentals than anyone else would try. You want less technical? Marnus will devote weeks in the training with trainers and footage, completely transforming into the simplest player that has ever existed. That’s the nature of the addict, and the characteristic that has consistently made Labuschagne one of the deeply fascinating cricketers in the game.
It could be before this very open historic rivalry, there is even a kind of pleasing dissonance to Labuschagne’s endless focus. On England’s side we have a team for whom technical study, let alone self-analysis, is a risky subject. Go with instinct. Stay in the moment. Live in the instant.
On the opposite side you have a individual like Labuschagne, a player utterly absorbed with the sport and magnificently unbothered by who knows about it, who finds cricket even in the spaces between the cricket, who handles this unusual pursuit with just the right measure of quirky respect it requires.
His method paid off. During his shamanic phase – from the time he walked out to come in for a hurt Smith at Lord’s Cricket Ground in 2019 to until late 2022 – Labuschagne somehow managed to see the game with greater insight. To reach it – through absolute focus – on a elevated, strange, passionate tier. During his days playing club cricket, fellow players saw him on the morning of a game positioned on a seat in a meditative condition, mentally rehearsing every single ball of his innings. According to cricket statisticians, during the initial period of his career a surprisingly high proportion of catches were spilled from his batting. Remarkably Labuschagne had anticipated outcomes before anyone had a chance to affect it.
Maybe this was why his performance dipped the moment he reached the summit. There were no new heights to imagine, just a boundless, uncharted void before his eyes. Additionally – he lost faith in his cover drive, got unable to move forward and seemed to lose awareness of his stumps. But it’s part of the same issue. Meanwhile his mentor, Neil D’Costa, reckons a emphasis on limited-overs started to erode confidence in his technique. Positive development: he’s recently omitted from the 50-over squad.
No doubt it’s important, too, that Labuschagne is a man of deep religious faith, an committed Christian who holds that this is all basically written out in advance, who thus sees his task as one of accessing this state of flow, no matter how mysterious it may seem to the mortal of us.
This mindset, to my mind, has consistently been the main point of difference between him and Smith, a inherently talented player