Marnus evenly coats butter on each surface of a slice of plain bread. “That’s the key,” he tells the camera as he closes the lid of his toastie maker. “Boom. Then you get it toasted on the outside.” He lifts the lid to reveal a toasted delight of delicious perfection, the bubbling cheese happily bubbling away. “Here’s the trick of the trade,” he announces. At which point, he does something horrific and unspeakable.
By now, you may feel a layer of boredom is beginning to form across your eyes. The red lights of overly fancy prose are blinking intensely. You’re no doubt informed that Labuschagne hit 160 for his state team this week and is being widely discussed for an return to the Test side before the Ashes series.
You likely wish to read more about his performance. But first – you now realise with an anguished sigh – you’re going to have to sit through a section of wobbling whimsy about toasties, plus an additional unnecessary part of tiresome meta‑deconstruction in the second person. You sigh again.
Marnus transfers the sandwich on to a dish and moves toward the fridge. “Few try this,” he remarks, “but I genuinely enjoy the toastie cold. There, in the fridge. You allow the cheese to set, head to practice, come back. Alright. Sandwich is perfect.”
Look, here’s the main point. Shall we get the sports aspect out of the way first? Small reward for making it this far. And while there may be just six weeks until the series opener, Labuschagne’s century against the Tigers – his third this season in all formats – feels quietly decisive.
This is an Aussie opening batsmen clearly missing consistency and technique, exposed by the South African team in the World Test Championship final, highlighted further in the Caribbean afterwards. Labuschagne was omitted during that trip, but on one hand you sensed Australia were eager to bring him back at the soonest moment. Now he looks to have given them the ideal reason.
Here is a strategy Australia must implement. The opener has just one 100 in his recent 44 batting efforts. Sam Konstas looks hardly a Test opener and rather like the handsome actor who might play a Test opener in a Bollywood epic. No other options has presented a strong argument. Nathan McSweeney looks finished. Harris is still oddly present, like moths or damp. Meanwhile their captain, Cummins, is injured and suddenly this feels like a weirdly lightweight side, short of strength or equilibrium, the kind of effortless self-assurance that has often put Australia 2-0 up before a ball is bowled.
Step forward Marnus: a world No 1 Test batter as recently as 2023, freshly dropped from the 50-over squad, the ideal candidate to bring stability to a shaky team. And we are told this is a composed and reflective Labuschagne these days: a simplified, back-to-basics Labuschagne, not as extremely focused with small details. “I feel like I’ve really simplified things,” he said after his century. “Less focused on technique, just what I must bat effectively.”
Of course, this is doubted. Most likely this is a fresh image that exists only in Labuschagne’s mind: still endlessly adjusting that technique from dawn to dusk, going deeper into fundamentals than anyone else would try. Like basic approach? Marnus will devote weeks in the practice sessions with advisors and replays, completely transforming into the least technical batter that has ever played. This is simply the trait of the obsessed, and the characteristic that has consistently made Labuschagne one of the highly engaging sportsmen in the sport.
It could be before this very open England-Australia contest, there is even a type of pleasing dissonance to Labuschagne’s unquenchable obsession. On England’s side we have a squad for whom detailed examination, especially personal critique, is a kind of dangerous taboo. Go with instinct. Be where the ball is. Embrace the current.
For Australia you have a individual like Labuschagne, a man terminally obsessed with the game and totally indifferent by public perception, who sees cricket even in the spaces between the cricket, who approaches this quirky game with precisely the amount of absurd reverence it requires.
His method paid off. During his shamanic phase – from the instant he appeared to come in for a hurt Smith at Lord’s in 2019 to until late 2022 – Labuschagne was able to see the game with greater insight. To access it – through pure determination – on a different, unusual, intense plane. During his stint in Kent league cricket, colleagues noticed him on the game day positioned on a seat in a meditative condition, mentally rehearsing all balls of his innings. According to the analytics firm, during the first few years of his career a surprisingly high 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 began doubting his cover drive, got trapped on the crease and seemed to forget where his off-stump was. But it’s connected really. Meanwhile his coach, his coach, believes a emphasis on limited-overs started to undermine belief in his positioning. Positive development: he’s recently omitted from the one-day team.
No doubt it’s important, too, that Labuschagne is a man of deep religious faith, an religious believer who holds that this is all basically written out in advance, who thus sees his role as one of achieving this peak performance, no matter how mysterious it may seem to the rest of us.
This mindset, to my mind, has always been the key distinction between him and Steve Smith, a more naturally gifted player
A passionate horticulturist with over 10 years of experience in organic gardening and landscape design.