There is something utterly comforting about a Test series that refuses to be hurried. In a world increasingly conditioned to expect 200 in 20 overs, where entertainment is often measured in strike rates and the length of sixes, Australia and South Africa offered a reprieve, a beautiful reminder of what cricket can still provide.
It took 15 days, three Tests, two extraordinary reversals and a final act of disintegration for South Africa to earn their rite of passage as the undisputed top Test side.
Which no one could have anticipated after the first game. South Africa were beaten, soundly, in the opening Test in Durban. Their batting had looked vulnerable, their resistance insufficient and their opponents comfortably superior. It was the sort of result that could have established a hierarchy in a series. Five days into 15, South Africa were reminded of the psychological burden of their task. Thankfully, Test cricket also has a habit of making early conclusions look foolish.
Gqeberha produced one of the most emphatic responses imaginable in the second Test. It was a reversal Australia couldn’t have anticipated. Their batting was always under the scanner, but what really cut Australia’s swagger to size was an extraordinary riposte from Simon Harmer and Marco Jansen with skipper Temba Bavuma. From 110 for six, South Africa reached 425/9, turning the series on its head. So assured in Durban, Australia were suddenly made to look uncertain, their batting reduced to a procession of problems.
Australia are Australia, though. The deciding Test at Newlands was to offer another, more complicated examination as the visitors responded to South Africa’s first innings 329 with a hundred-run advantage. This was where the series became especially compelling. Not in the certainty of dominance, but in the uncertainty of a team being asked to find another way to win.
South Africa regrouped, perhaps even recalibrated their resolve. From 131/4, they rebuilt, negotiated the Australian attack and eventually reached 387. It was not a dash towards a declaration, nor an attempt to manufacture a television-friendly finish. South Africa were gritty, willing to delve into the unglamorous business of accumulating runs when the consequences of losing a wicket were considerable.
The target was 288 going into the final day. Australia had a chance. South Africa had a bowling attack that believed it could make that chance disappear. Kagiso Rabada began the final innings with the sort of hostility that reminds one why fast bowling still is one of cricket’s great spectacles. The ball hurried on, keeping the slips interested, and the Australian top order was made to confront a morning of genuine discomfort. Before off-spinner Harmer took over to leave Australia in disarray.
Record books will state three Tests with results that couldn’t have been more extreme. Australia won the first by 214 runs. South Africa won the second by an innings and 31 runs. South Africa won the third by 176 runs. Safe to say there was no gentle negotiation between equals here. Yet each Test also contained the possibility of a different outcome, until the winning side found a way to seize it.
That, once again, underlined the essence of Test cricket. It permits a player to fail on Monday and become indispensable by Friday. It gives a bowler time to establish a pattern, a batter time to understand a challenge, and a contest to slowly reveal its character on a pitch with a mind of its own.
Entrenched in T20, the modern game has gained a new vocabulary with an ever-increasing audience. But there is an inherent danger in allowing the language of efficiency become the language of the entire sport. Cricket cannot be reduced to projected scores, boundary percentages, optimal match-ups and the pursuit of the next 200-plus total.
A Test match is not obliged to entertain every minute. Its rewards are cumulative, sometimes of hours, sessions, and even days. And beating Australia simply isn’t another series victory. They have long been the yardstick, the side against whom ambition is tested and reputations are made. South Africa had to lose to them before they could properly understand how to beat them. The first defeat thus wasn’t an inconvenience that led to South Africa’s eventual triumph. It was part of their education.
Not too long ago, social media was gloating about South Africa winning the World Test Championship by playing the fewest number of Tests. This win, thus, feels like a more organic anointment, a distinction that reflects the achievement of South Africa and the strength of their game.
The Proteas have, at the very least, earned the right to be regarded as the best Test side in the world. And they have earned it the proper way – across15 days, against Australia, with no shortcuts. In an age when cricket is forever being asked to move faster, it is particularly satisfying that this coronation took its own sweet time.