England, please be competitive. The Ashes’ claim to the greatest rivalry depends on it | Jack Snape

Don Bradman was the subject of the first adult book I remember reading. In the mind of a primary school student, the injustice of an English captain ordering his countrymen to hurt a brilliant Australian was unfathomable. And so, like many, I came to hate England. Anticipation for the Ashes? It goes without saying. Cricket’s calendar makes this a rare treat to watch two of the world’s best teams test and taunt and tease each other for what we hope will be 25 days of interrogation with the red Kookaburra. Related: Ollie Pope believes pressure on England place will push him to deliver in Ashes As Ian Botham reminded us last week at the launch of the ballot for 2027’s 150th anniversary Test, the Ashes has a unique appeal. “Historically, everyone in the cricketing world watches the Ashes,” he said. “It’s the tradition, it’s the competition, you know that’s it all flat out.” In England, those two recent drawn series – marked by Steve Smith’s mountain of runs and Ben Stokes’ Headingley masterpiece in 2019, and the Lord’s Long Room disgrace of 2023 – have met the expectations of what an Ashes contest should be. However, they have not had the same cultural impact on the other side of the world when half of Australia nods off before the end of the lunch interval. In home Tests, the Ashes has been less flat out than just flat for more than a decade. Australians expect their team to win and win handily, as it has been since the 1990s. Scott Boland’s 6-7 at the MCG wasn’t wrought in a furnace of competition, it was English tragicomedy confirming a worldview. A true rivalry should not be this way. Cricket’s town criers must now crouch down at the Ashes’ waning embers and whistle oxygen, hoping to rekindle the flame. The English team were met in Perth by a tired headline on the front of the local tabloid, “Baz Bawl”, supported by a description of the widely respected Ben Stokes as “cocky”. The paper then had a go at “Average Joe” Root, aka “Dud Root Down Under”. It was enough to prompt a predictable Fleet Street reaction, allowing the media to squeeze what juice is left in the days before the first ball is bowled. (May I recommend the Guardian’s 100 best players in the history of the men’s Ashes?) In contrast, last year’s Border-Gavaskar Trophy between Australia and India sparked something all by itself. The spiritual peak was that MCG experience, a memory that cannot be extinguished. The metrics, too, overwhelmed. 838,000 attended the five Tests, the fourth most for any series in Australia and the highest for any non-Ashes contest. Audiences were entranced, not unlike the TV bump for India’s tour of England this year, and eight sessions averaged more than 2m television viewers. In recent weeks, the emotional if unofficial farewells of Rohit Sharma and Virat Kohli at the SCG made one-day cricket actually mean something. Compare the headline following the last time England came here for a white ball tour: “Record-low MCG crowd for Australia-England ODI raises fears for future of 50-over format”. Although rain ruined the T20 series with India, what play we saw suggests Australia are some way off the short form’s global benchmark. In women’s cricket, at the World Cup last month, the home side knocked off the defending champions. The multi-format series starting in Sydney in February-March is primed as a de facto world championship. It’s easy to dismiss the adoring blue, orange and green crowds that flock to India’s matches – and not just Tests – as a simple reflection of the vast diaspora of the world’s most populous nation. But to bean counters and television executives, they are an elixir. The world’s largest democracy now means more to Australia than its motherland, given the countries share an ocean, colonial parallels, and increasingly their peoples. India is set to surpass the UK, according to ABS migration data, as the source of the largest group of foreign-born Australian residents as early as this year. The failing Aukus relationship is driving an recalibration of defence interests respecting the growing influence of Asian powers, a shift that long ago happened in the cricketing world. Greg Chappell, the former Australian captain and India coach, said last week England was “our biggest traditional rival”, but also that “to be fair, without India, cricket wouldn’t be the same”. Until Australia won the Border-Gavaskar Trophy last summer, India had held it for a decade. On the subcontinent, Australia haven’t won in more than 20 years. Even if the home side reclaim the Ashes easily this summer, losing the five-Test Border-Gavaskar Trophy in India in early 2027 would leave the Cummins era unfulfilled. That elusive victory on the subcontinent remains the final proving ground for this generation, and a blip against England this summer – put down to unfortunate bowler injury, just like 2005 and Glenn McGrath’s freak rolled ankle – would only add to the narrative. The tourists have not won an Ashes Test in Australia for almost 15 years, and as rich as the lore may be, it cannot sustain a one-sided contest forever. So with a gaudy, engrossing India having only just flown out, Ben Stokes’s players have much to play for. Win the series and stay relevant. Or lose the urn and with it something that can’t be won back: the claim to Australia’s greatest rivalry. Please England, just be good.