Conscript Potts is England’s paratrooper fighting a lonely Ashes war in Sydney

Forty-five minutes into a quietly overcast morning at the Sydney Cricket Ground, Matt Potts came into the England attack from the Randwick End, and immediately began running through his variations.

- Barney Ronay Sydney Cricket Ground

His first ball was wide and smashed through cover by Travis Head. His second ball was both short and wide and hacked over gully by Travis Head. His third ball was short and straight and smashed past midwicket by Travis Head. His fourth ball was defended with a show of furrowed caution, to loud, mocking cheers from a crowd that had begun to tuck into the day. Welcome to the treadmill, Pottsy. And yes, it’s always like this around here.

By the end of Potts’s next over, with Australia nudging past 200 for two, Head was reeling off strange, semi-ironical shadow shots after leaving the ball, the kind you only ever play with a shampoo bottle in the bathroom.

At one point he unfurled an absurd Mohammad Azharuddin-style whip for two. He’s doing batting impressions now. Give us a Goochie. Do Chanderpaul. Do Travis Head windmilling a 78mph all-sort past deep square leg. Oh yes. Yes that’s really good.

Half an hour later Potts seemed briefly to be in the running for the all-time England record for quickest concession of 100 runs in Tests, as set by Brydon Carse (85 balls) in Perth on this tour. Always pushing the envelope, this team. By lunch England had dished up arguably their worst session of the series, all the more striking because it wasn’t zany or amphetamine-crazed, just acomfortingly retro story of dropped catches and half-trackers.

All in all the session of creeping death produced 115 runs for one wicket (the nightwatchman) in 30.5 overs. There were three drops, two burned reviews, one missed run out. All of it accompanied by the sight of Head pushing on towards 150 from a reclining position, chaise-longueing it out there, the silk kimono, the ivory cigarette holder, the one-handed flay over cover.

None of which was really the fault of Potts, who has simply answered the call because someone has to, at the fag-end of a dying tour, and on the back of very little cricket.