The Australian batsman evenly coats butter on each surface of a slice of white bread. “That’s essential,” he tells the camera as he lowers the lid of his sandwich grill. “Boom. Then you get it golden on both sides.” He checks inside to reveal a toasted delight of pure toasted goodness, the bubbling cheese happily sizzling within. “So this is the trick of the trade,” he declares. At which point, he does something horrific and unspeakable.
At this stage, I sense a glaze of ennui is beginning to form across your eyes. The warning signs of sportswriting pretension are flashing wildly. You’re probably aware that Labuschagne made 160 runs for his state team this week and is being feverishly talked up for an return to the Test side before the Ashes series.
No doubt you’d prefer to read more about that. But first – you now grasp with irritation – you’re going to have to get through a section of playful digression about toasties, plus an additional unnecessary part of tiresome meta‑deconstruction in the second person. You sigh again.
Labuschagne flips the sandwich on to a dish and heads over the fridge. “Not many people do this,” he states, “but I personally prefer the toastie cold. Done, in the fridge. You get that cheese to harden up, go bat, come back. Alright. It’s ideal.”
Look, here’s the main point. Let’s address the cricket bit out of the way first? Little treat for reading until now. And while there may be just six weeks until the first Test, Labuschagne’s century against the Tasmanian side – his third this season in various games – feels significantly impactful.
Here’s an Australian top order seriously lacking form and structure, shown up by South Africa in the Test championship decider, exposed again in the Caribbean afterwards. Labuschagne was omitted during that tour, but on one hand you felt Australia were eager to bring him back at the soonest moment. Now he appears to have given them the ideal reason.
This represents a approach the team should follow. Usman Khawaja has one century in his last 44 knocks. The young batsman looks less like a Test match opener and more like the attractive performer who might act as a batsman in a Indian film. None of the alternatives has presented a strong argument. One contender looks cooked. Another option is still inexplicably hanging around, like moths or damp. Meanwhile their leader, Pat Cummins, is unfit and suddenly this feels like a surprisingly weak team, lacking authority or balance, the kind of natural confidence that has often put Australia 2-0 up before a match begins.
Here comes Labuschagne: a world No 1 Test batter as just two years ago, recently omitted from the 50-over squad, the ideal candidate to return structure to a shaky team. And we are informed this is a more relaxed and thoughtful Labuschagne these days: a simplified, fundamental-focused Labuschagne, less intensely fixated with minor adjustments. “I feel like I’ve really stripped it back,” he said after his hundred. “Not overthinking, just what I should score runs.”
Naturally, this is doubted. In all likelihood this is a rebrand that exists entirely in Labuschagne’s mind: still furiously stripping down that method from morning to night, going further toward simplicity than anyone else would try. Prefer simplicity? Marnus will take time in the training with trainers and footage, exhaustively remoulding himself into the most basic batsman that has ever been seen. This is just the trait of the obsessed, and the quality that has always made Labuschagne one of the highly engaging cricketers in the cricket.
Maybe before this very open historic rivalry, there is even a sort of interesting contrast to Labuschagne’s constant dedication. On England’s side we have a squad for whom technical study, let alone self-analysis, is a kind of dangerous taboo. Feel the flavours. Be where the ball is. Smell the now.
On the opposite side you have a individual like Labuschagne, a man terminally obsessed with the sport and totally indifferent by who knows about it, who finds cricket even in the moments outside play, who handles this unusual pursuit with just the right measure of odd devotion it deserves.
His method paid off. During his intense period – from the time he walked out to replace a concussed the senior batsman at Lord’s in 2019 to around the end of 2022 – Labuschagne was able to see the game more deeply. To tap into it – through absolute focus – on a different, unusual, intense plane. During his days playing club cricket, teammates would find him on the day of a match sitting on a park bench in a meditative condition, literally visualising every single ball of his innings. According to cricket statisticians, during the first few years of his career a statistically unfathomable catches were dropped off his bat. In some way Labuschagne had anticipated outcomes before anyone had a chance to influence it.
Maybe this was why his career began to disintegrate the moment he reached the summit. There were no new heights to imagine, just a empty space before his eyes. Additionally – he stopped trusting his signature shot, got trapped on the crease and seemed to misjudge his positioning. But it’s part of the same issue. Meanwhile his coach, his coach, reckons a emphasis on limited-overs started to weaken assurance in his positioning. Encouragingly: he’s just been dropped from the ODI side.
Certainly it’s relevant, too, that Labuschagne is a man of deep religious faith, an committed Christian who thinks that this is all basically written out in advance, who thus sees his task as one of accessing this state of flow, however enigmatic and inexplicable it may appear to the ordinary people.
This approach, to my mind, has consistently been the key distinction between him and the other batsman, a more naturally gifted player
Urban planner and writer passionate about sustainable city development and community engagement.