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Labuschagne evenly coats butter on both sides 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. “Perfect. Then you get it crisp on the outside.” He opens the grill to reveal a perfectly browned of delicious perfection, the bubbling cheese happily bubbling away. “So this is the secret method,” he announces. At which point, he does something horrific and unspeakable.

At this stage, you may feel a sense of disinterest is beginning to cover your eyes. The warning signs of sportswriting pretension are flashing wildly. You’re no doubt informed that Labuschagne scored 160 for Queensland this week and is being widely discussed for an national team comeback before the England-Australia contest.

You probably want to read more about his performance. But first – you now grasp with irritation – you’re going to have to get through a section of playful digression about toasties, plus an extra unwanted bonus paragraph of self-referential analysis in the second person. You feel resigned.

He turns the sandwich on to a plate and walks across the fridge. “It’s uncommon,” he remarks, “but I actually like the grilled sandwich chilled. There, in the fridge. You get that cheese to harden up, go for a hit, come back. Alright. Sandwich is perfect.”

The Cricket Context

Alright, let’s try it like this. Shall we get the cricket bit to begin with? Small reward for making it this far. And while there may be just six weeks until the series opener, Labuschagne’s century against Tasmania – his third this season in all formats – feels importantly timed.

Here’s an Australia top three badly short of consistency and technique, revealed against the Proteas in the World Test Championship final, shown up once more in the West Indies after that. Labuschagne was omitted during that series, but on one hand you felt Australia were desperate to rehabilitate him at the soonest moment. Now he seems to have given them the ideal reason.

This represents a approach the team should follow. Usman Khawaja has a single hundred in his last 44 knocks. Sam Konstas looks hardly a Test opener and rather like the handsome actor who might portray a cricketer in a Indian film. Other candidates has shown convincing form. McSweeney looks cooked. Marcus Harris is still oddly present, like unwanted guests. Meanwhile their captain, Cummins, is injured and suddenly this feels like a weirdly lightweight side, short of authority or balance, the kind of built-in belief that has often helped Australia dominate before a match begins.

The Batsman’s Revival

Here comes Labuschagne: a world No 1 Test batter as just two years ago, freshly dropped from the one-day team, the ideal candidate to restore order to a brittle empire. And we are told this is a more relaxed and thoughtful Labuschagne now: a pared-down, no-frills Labuschagne, less intensely fixated with minor adjustments. “I feel like I’ve really cut out extras,” he said after his ton. “Less focused on technique, just what I need to make runs.”

Of course, this is doubted. Most likely this is a new approach that exists only in Labuschagne’s mind: still furiously stripping down that approach from all day, going deeper into fundamentals than anyone else would try. Like basic approach? Marnus will devote weeks in the nets with advisors and replays, exhaustively remoulding himself into the simplest player that has ever been seen. That’s the quality of the focused, and the quality that has always made Labuschagne one of the highly engaging cricketers in the game.

Bigger Scene

Maybe before this inscrutably unpredictable historic rivalry, there is even a sort of appealing difference to Labuschagne’s unquenchable obsession. For England we have a team for whom any kind of analysis, let alone self-analysis, is a kind of dangerous taboo. Feel the flavours. Be where the ball is. Live in the instant.

For Australia you have a individual like Labuschagne, a player utterly absorbed with the game and magnificently unbothered by who knows about it, who observes cricket even in the moments outside play, who treats this absurd sport with precisely the amount of absurd reverence it requires.

This approach succeeded. During his focused era – from the time he walked out to replace a concussed Steve Smith at Lord’s Cricket Ground in 2019 to around the end of 2022 – Labuschagne somehow managed to see the game with greater insight. To tap into it – through pure determination – on a different, unusual, intense plane. During his days playing English county cricket, fellow players saw him on the day of a match resting on a bench in a trance-like state, mentally rehearsing all balls of his time at the crease. Per cricket statisticians, during the initial period of his career a unusually large number of chances were missed when he batted. Somehow Labuschagne had anticipated outcomes before fielders could respond to influence it.

Form Issues

It’s possible 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. Furthermore – he lost faith in his signature shot, got trapped on the crease and seemed to lose awareness of his stumps. But it’s all the same thing. Meanwhile his trainer, Neil D’Costa, believes a emphasis on limited-overs started to undermine belief in his technique. Encouragingly: he’s recently omitted from the 50-over squad.

Certainly it’s relevant, too, that Labuschagne is a man of deep religious faith, an committed Christian who thinks that this is all preordained, who thus sees his role as one of achieving this peak performance, despite being puzzling it may look to the ordinary people.

This approach, to my mind, has always been the primary contrast between him and Steve Smith, a instinctive player