22 months since Brendon ‘Baz’ McCullum’s appointment as head coach of the England Men’s cricket team, the calls for him and for his ‘Bazball’ approach to go have never been stronger. What else can you expect when a coach and team strut confidently into a series, and receive a 4-1 drubbing in response? There will be backlash. But Bazball doesn’t need to go; I don’t think this England team can make it without Bazball anymore.
England went into this tour of India with confidence. The last 22 months, under the coaching of Baz and the captaincy of Ben Stokes, have been characterised by a revitalised English team taking the attack to their opponents. The turnaround is famous (in cricket circles, at least), from England winning just 1 of the last 17 matches in the pre-Bazball era, to winning 13 of the next 18. With Baz/Stokes’ aggressive approach, England upped their scoring rate and suddenly found the killer instinct needed to become a successful team.
Undoubtedly their finest achievement is the clean-sweep series win in Pakistan, which exemplified its approach of scoring big runs fast and chasing results. The Rawalpindi Test is the archetypal Bazball win, with four centuries being struck at run-a-ball or better, the aggregate runs for the match surpassing 1700, and yet there was still a result. It’s not just speed; there’s a freedom and feistiness with which England approaches challenges now. The Edgbaston Test, where England defeated India, chasing down a barely believable 378/3, exemplifies their mindset that no target is too big. In the bubble of Bazball, every cricketer genuinely believes that the team can do anything, and that they shouldn’t worry too much and just enjoy the game.
With this experience under their belt, England came to Indian shores, knowing that they can win in the subcontinent, knowing that they can beat India. Playing India in India is undoubtedly the toughest challenge in all of Test cricket; they haven’t lost a series since 2012, and in that period have lost just 4 Tests out of 51. It’s presumptuous for any team to claim that they’re confident of victory. But Bazball is presumptuous; it makes bold claims because it genuinely believes in them, and this collective positive mindset in all the team members is what makes their winning streak possible, even if it appears ludicrous to outsiders. Let India think we’re bluffing or stupid; they won’t know what hit them. That’s what Stokes wanted to do, what he planned to do in the five Tests.
In the first Test in Hyderabad, it seemed like what Stokes had predicted was going to come true. By the end of day 2, it seemed like the match was India’s, with England trailing by a heavy 190 runs. Yet the Bazballers believed, and from that belief came one of the greatest away victories of recent times. Ollie Pope produced a magnificent second-innings 196, and Tom Hartley bounced back from a first-innings beating to take seven wickets and seal an England win. At all points in that match England looked fearless, and the 190-run deficit only made them more excited to win. For the first time in over ten years, India felt uncomfortable at home. How often can you make the other team put on a lead of 200 and have them still think ‘is it enough’? It’s not unfair to say that the first Test felt like the harbinger of a monumental away series victory.
But what followed in the next four Tests was a nightmare come true for the Bazball faithful. India adjusted, their batsmen piled on the runs, and the bowlers recalibrated to torment opposition batsmen like they have for the last twelve years. Match by match, the series slipped out of England’s grasp, concluding in an innings defeat at Dharamsala, where it looked like everyone had run out of steam. The last time England toured, they lost 3-1. This time, they lost 4-1. It leaves a bad taste in Baz/Stokes’ mouth to admit that they did worse under Bazball than they did before.
It’s not like the series was ever unwinnable either. There were moments in the third and fourth Tests where England were on top, and had they capitalised, could have notched further wins. Through the series, they lacked the killer instinct, that aggression that was so sorely needed, to make use of the good spots they were in. Where they should have ground India into the dust, there were batting collapses and bowling brainfades. In the third Test at Rajkot, England collapsed from 224/2 to 319 all out, blamed on a senseless Joe Root reverse scoop straight to second slip. In the fourth Test at Ranchi, England had India at 177/7 before letting them get to 307 with insipid bowling. Then they collapsed horrendously to just 145, and then while reducing India from 84/0 to 120/5, couldn’t finish off the job. England definitely could have won, but the ruthlessness, the ability to dig in, just wasn’t there.
Definitely, the lowest point of this series was the second session of day three of the Ranchi Test. India, with a spin masterclass, had brought England to 120/5 right before lunch. England’s lower order responded by retreating into their shells, putting on just 22 runs over the next 17 overs. Watching Ben Foakes blindly block balls felt like I was back in the pre-Bazball era, where England would crumble at the slightest difficulty. It was painful to see them struggle. Where was the Bazball aggression? Where was the fearlessness? By that point, England had returned to what they used to be, a mediocre Test team, not the world-beaters that Baz and Stokes had told them they were.
So, now that England have been humbled, it’s inevitable that there’s disappointment among fans. Anger and irritation with Bazball has been ever-present; from the very beginning, the insular, cocky arrogance and reckless aggression had not sat well. Yet Baz and Stokes could always point to their winning record. If it worked, it worked. Now they don’t even have that. Even the most fervent converts to Bazball sit uneasy; I know I do. Perhaps it is time for Baz to go, and his foolhardy mindset with him. Perhaps England needs to return to good old-fashioned Test cricket if it wants to win again. Perhaps that’s what’s needed for the next Ashes.
I am a Bazball convert, I will admit it. My worship at the shrine of the Holy Trinity (Baz, Stokes, and Rob Key) is motivated by the belief that Bazball is the best approach for this England team, with these players, at this time. I don’t think that it invented aggressive batting in Tests, nor do I think that it’s a sustainable template forever. But England cricket needs Bazball for now; England cricket needs to understand Bazball.
Bazball is not a philosophy of going out there and slogging every ball. At its heart, the philosophy is quite simple: it’s just cricket. It is just a game; it doesn’t matter all that much. When Stuart Broad says that playing under Bazball feels like ‘playing for a club side’, he means that there’s none of the oppressive pressure and scrutiny that English cricketers have to play through. It reminds them that Test cricket is about having fun and loving what they do, and that they should play the way that suits them best, no matter what outsiders say. Stokes wants to make Test cricket fun again, and that process starts within the team. So, he tells his players, go and play how you want. Slog your first ball for six, reverse-scoop fast bowlers outside off— we will accept it if that’s your cricket. The aggression is a result of the backyard cricketer in each player being unleashed. They chase wins because it’s more fun to go for a win and lose than play out boring draws; that’s what Stokes reminded everyone during their one-run loss in the Mount Maunganui Test. There will be no retribution for taking risks.
English cricket needs this mindset now. The state of the team before and after Bazball speaks for itself. During the last Ashes in Australia, the intense scrutiny that every player went through put a toll on them that was visible in their playstyle, fatigued and as though they didn’t want to be there. The English cricket media can be brutal to its players, and the expectations it sets can often be too much. It’s better to tell your players to block out all that noise, because you believe in them. Bazball gives them the self-belief they so desperately need.
Frankly speaking, English Test players are just not at the same quality level as their Indian or Aussie counterparts; there is a gulf between Jonny Bairstow and Travis Head, or Ben Duckett and Yashasvi Jaiswal. They need to make up that difference by instilling confidence and an ethos that these players can buy into, something that makes them work together, something that lets them play to their strengths and not to their weaknesses. That is Bazball. That is what the players of the English team have bought so wholly into, and it’s a philosophy I don’t think they can live without now. Once they have been set free, Stokes’ boys will always have that wild spirit in them. It’s best to embrace it, now that it’s been awoken.
India in India is truly the toughest challenge in Test cricket; one victory in five games is an above-average result for most teams. It was never going to be easy facing them, and while this series is disappointing for England, it’s not the stinging repudiation of Bazball that it’s made out to be. They would have lost like this even without Bazball, and the many times that England were on top in this series probably wouldn’t have happened if not for it. In light of that, Bazball is an ethos that England needs to continue to put their faith into. Yes, the confidence is punctured, but it can be reinflated. If England wants to keep winning, and wants to even be competitive in the next Ashes, it needs to recommit itself to Bazball. This series has been Bazball’s baptism as a mature, seasoned cricketing philosophy. They lost: now, they will learn. And when they come back, they need to continue with that boisterous, free spirit that has characterised their success. As expected from a fanatic like myself, my answer to Bazball failing will be to Bazball even harder. That’s how this team can win.
Oppenheimer premieres in Japan: What took so long?
Christopher Nolan’s Oppenheimer had its very first screenings in Japanese cinemas on the 29th of March 2024 – eight months after it was released in the rest of the world. The film, exploring the life of the eponymous father of the atomic bomb, made over $950 million at the box office. It was nominated for thirteen Oscars and succeeded in seven categories, including Best Picture, at the 2024 Academy Awards.
At the time of its initial global release, on the same day as Mattel’s blockbuster Barbie, I was battling homesickness as I reached the end of my year abroad in Japan. I found myself desperate to join in on the ‘Barbenheimer’ cultural phenomenon sweeping the West. These hopes were squashed, however, when Warner Brothers stirred anger in Japan after engaging with fan-made memes depicting Barbie posed next to mushroom clouds.Universal sub-distributor Toho-Towa then failed to announce a release date in Japan. The controversy even prompted the creation of the #NoBarbenheimer hashtag by Japanese netizens on X (Twitter).
When, upon my return to Europe, I finally got the chance to see the film, I found myself torn. As a subjective depiction of the groundbreaking scientist’s life, I thought the film brilliant. It humanises a historical figure who has so often been either discredited, villainised or even forgotten, and sheds light on an important turning point in history. On the other hand, I was disappointed. I felt that the failure to include any depiction of the Japanese people’s suffering in the film was a missed opportunity to show audiences how truly horrific the destruction wrought by atomic weapons is. In doing so, it creates the risk of younger audiences not understanding the significance of Oppenheimer’s invention and the reason for his internal turmoil. As Spike Lee put it, “[i]f it’s three hours, I would like to add some more minutes about what happened to the Japanese people. People got vaporised. Many years later, people are radioactive.”
I have had the opportunity to visit Hiroshima twice. My most recent trip there was a compulsory one, during the summer of my year abroad. Our group of Kobe University students visited the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum – a harrowing experience, even upon my second visit. Galleries of photographs and personal belongings accompany detailed accounts of the experiences of victims of the city’s atomic bombing. We engaged in an open discussion between foreign exchange students and Japanese students. Nao Fukuoka, a peace activist and third generation Hiroshima A-bomb survivor whose grandfather lived through the bombing, led the discussion. She recalled how Japan’s younger generation’s lack of engagement inspired her to join a group of elderly atomic bomb victims, or hibakusha as they are known in Japanese, working with the Japan-based NGO Peace Boat. She has travelled around the world with these survivors as they shared their first-hand experiences. Hearing their passion for their mission as spokespeople for world peace and nuclear disarmament, I found myself moved and impressed by the ongoing strength of the people of Hiroshima. My opinion of the United States’ bombing of Japan is therefore a profoundly emotional one.
My path overlapped with Oppenheimer‘s once again this year as I visited my grandparents in New Mexico over the winter break. The state of New Mexico is home to the town of Los Alamos, known primarily as the Manhattan Project’s main hub for nuclear research and the birthplace of the atomic bomb. It remains one of the United States’ most important national laboratories.
We drove up the winding road to the mesa top, where the town is perched overlooking a sprawling desert landscape. The primary attraction there is the Bradbury Science Museum, which takes visitors through the Lab’s history from its World War II beginnings to the present-day. As expected from an American federally-funded museum, it, like Nolan’s film, reflects the Western narrative that rationalises the need for the development and dropping of the atomic bombs. A sign placed beside a lifesize model of Fat Man, the bomb dropped on Nagasaki three days after Little Boy was dropped on Hiroshima, ambiguously reads: “Many consider the Manhattan Project a brilliant achievement that ended the war and brought decades of peace. At the same time, many believe the development of the atom bomb has created profound dilemmas for humankind.” Only a few feet away, the museum shop sells Fat Man/Little Boy earrings and lapel pins. I could not help but worry that such disturbing souvenirs risked trivialising the bombs’ significance in the history of humankind.
Japanese reception of Oppenheimer has been divided. Toshiyuki Mimaki, who was three years old when the bomb destroyed his home town, was an audience member at one of the first screenings in Hiroshima. He told The Guardian, “I was waiting for the Hiroshima bombing scene to appear, but it never did.” The 82-year-old continued, “It’s important to show the full story, including the victims, if we are going to have a future without nuclear weapons.”
Others see the showing of the film in Japan as necessary. In the About Asia podcast, Yuki Miyamoto, a nuclear ethics professor at DePaul University, said: “I think it’s great that the film is released.” In her view, the absence of hibakusha (or any victims at all) in the film shows Hiroshima and Nagasaki’s place in the American mind.
If travelling between Hiroshima and Los Alamos and seeing the different reactions to Oppenheimer in Japan and the West have confirmed anything in my mind, it is that perspectives on the nuclear bombings remain unaligned. In Western memory, it is still the American perspective that dominates. While Oppenheimer has reopened the conversation surrounding nuclear weapons, I hope that in the near future, a response sharing the Japanese perspective will be released. The United States’ framing of the atomic bomb as the epitome of scientific achievement and a vessel for peace has too often led to the West’s neglect of its Japanese victims. Oppenheimer calls himself “Death, the Destroyer of Worlds”. The world needs to be reminded of what that meant for Japan and continues to mean for us all.