3rd Test, Australia tour of England at Leeds, Jul 16-21 1981

A match which had initially produced all the wet and tedious traits of
recent Leeds Tests finally ended in a way to stretch the bounds of logic
and belief. England's victory, achieved under the gaze of a spellbound
nation, was the first this century by a team following on, and only the
second such result in the history of Test cricket.
The transformation occurred in less than 24 hours, after England had
appeared likely to suffer their second four-day defeat of the series.
Wherever one looked, there were personal dramas: Brearley, returning as
captain like England's saviour; Botham, who was named Man of the Match,
brilliant once more in his first game back in the ranks; Willis, whose
career has so often heard the distant drums, producing the most
staggering bowling of his life when his place again seemed threatened.
Others, too, had good reason to remember this game. It was the first
time in nineteen Tests that Willey had been a member of a victorious
side, there were wicket-keeping records for both Taylor (all first-class
cricket) and Marsh (Tests). Dyson made his maiden century for
Australia, and Lillee moved further up the list of bowling immortals.
But if the statisticians revelled in such facts, they were, for most of
us, submerged in the tension of a climax as near to miraculous as a Test
ever can have been.
None of this had seemed remotely likely on the opening day when the
familiar slate-grey clouds engulfed the chimneys which stretch away from
the Kirkstall Lane End. Australia, one up in the series, were
unchanged; England made two changes. Woolmer standing down for Brearley
and Old returning on his home ground at the expense of Emburey. England
thus went in with four seamers and only Willey to provide a measure of
spin. It was a selectorial policy which caused considerable discussion.
Brearley later confessed he lost sleep on the first night for fear that
it had been a mistake. As things transpired, however, it was largely
irrelevant.
Australia, having chosen to bat, ended the first day in fine health at
203 for three, the extra hour having reduced lost time to only fifty
minutes. Dyson batted diligently for his century, playing chiefly off
the back foot, and survived one chance, to Botham in the gully, when 57.
Chappell, who supported Dyson staunchly in a stand of 94 for the second
wicket, was twice reprieved - by Gower and Botham again - so England,
not for the first time this summer, suffered for their ineptitude in the
field. The other talking-point of the day concerned Headingley's new
electronic scoreboard, which had a mixed reception, being difficult to
see from most parts of the ground when the sun began to sink.
It will come as a surprise when, in future years, people look back on a
Test of such apparently outrageous drama, to know that the second day
was pedestrian in the extreme. Botham, to some degree, salvaged English
pride by taking five more wickets, all of them in an after-tea spell
costing 35 runs, and finishing with six for 95. Naturally, the
assumption was drawn that he is a more effective player without
leadership duties. Despite his efforts, Australia extended their score
to 401 for nine, thanks to half-centuries from Hughes and Yallop. It was
another day of patchy weather and patchy cricket, completed when Gooch
and Boycott saw out an over apiece from Lillee and Alderman without
mishap.
At this stage, the odds seemed in favour of a draw. An England win was
on offer generously, though by no means as extravagantly as 24 hours
later when Ladbrokes, from their tent on the ground, posted it at 500 to
1. The reason for their estimate was a truncated day on which England
were dismissed for 174 and, following on 227 behind, lost Gooch without
addition. Australia's seamers had shown what could be done by bowling
straighter and to a fuller length than their counterparts. Other than
Botham, who opted for all-out aggression and profited by a swift 50,
England at no stage commanded and were occasionally undone by deliveries
performing contortions at speed. Botham fell victim to just such a ball
from Lillee and the catch by Marsh was his 264th in Tests, beating
Knott's record.
The third day ended with unhappy scenes similar to those seen at Lord's,
when spectators hurled cushions and abuse at the umpires. On this
occasion, Messrs Meyer and Evans had walked to the middle, wearing
blazers, at five to six, after a lengthy stoppage for poor light. They
consulted their meters and summoned the covers, abandoning play just
before the hour. With cruel irony, the light improved instantly, the sun
was soon breaking through and the large crowd was incited to wrathful
demands for explanations as to why they were not watching the prescribed
extra hour. Once more, it seems, confusion in interpretation of the
playing regulations was the cause of the ill feeling: they stated only
that conditions must be fit for play at the scheduled time of finish and
not, as the umpires thought, that play must actually be in motion.
Whether it was, in fact, fit at six o'clock is open to doubt, but the
TCCB soon adjusted the ruling so that play in future Tests in the series
could restart at any stage of the extra hour.
This heated diversion seemed likely to achieve nothing more than a stay
of sentence for England, a view which appeared amply confirmed by late
afternoon on the Monday. England were then 135 for seven, still 92
behind, and the distant objective of avoiding an innings defeat surely
their only available prize. Lillee and Alderman had continued where
Saturday's disturbances had forced them to leave off, and for all
Boycott's skilful resistance, the cause seemed lost. Boycott, who batted
three and a half hours, was sixth out to an lbw decision he seemed not
to relish, and when Taylor followed quickly, the England players'
decision to check out of their hotel seemed a sound move. Three hours
later, the registration desks around Leeds were coping with a flood of
re-bookings, Botham having destroyed the game's apparently set course
with an astonishing, unbeaten 145, ably and forcefully aided by Dilley.
Together, they added 117 in 80 minutes for the eighth wicket, only 7
short of an England record against Australia. Both struck the ball so
cleanly and vigorously that Hughes's men were temporarily in disarray;
when Dilley departed after scoring 56 precious runs, Old arrived to add
67 more with Botham, who still had Willis as a partner at the close,
with England 124 ahead.
Botham advanced his unforgettable innings to 149 not out before losing
Willis the next morning, but Australia, needing 130, still remained
clear favourites. Then, at 56 for one, Willis, having changed ends to
bowl with the wind, dismissed Chappell with a rearing delivery and the
staggering turnabout was under way. Willis bowled as if inspired. It is
not uncommon to see him perform for England as if his very life depended
on it, but this was something unique. In all, he took eight wickets for
43, the best of his career, as Australia's last nine wickets tumbled
for 55 runs despite a stand of 35 in four overs between Bright and
Lillee. Old bowled straight and aggressively and England rose to the
need to produce an outstanding show in the field. Yet this was Willis's
hour, watched or listened to by a vast invisible audience. At the end,
the crowd gathered to wave their Union Jacks and chant patriotically,
eight days in advance of the Royal Wedding.
Takings were £206,500 and the attendance 52,566.
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