Marnus methodically applies butter on the top and bottom of a slice of plain bread. “That’s the key,” he explains as he closes the lid of his sandwich grill. “Perfect. Then you get it toasted on both sides.” He checks inside to reveal a golden square of pure toasted goodness, the bubbling cheese happily melting inside. “And that’s the trick of the trade,” he declares. At which point, he does something shocking and odd.
At this stage, I sense a sense of disinterest is beginning to form across your eyes. The warning signs of sportswriting pretension are going off. You’re likely conscious that Labuschagne made 160 runs for Queensland Bulls this week and is being feverishly talked up for an return to the Test side before the Ashes.
No doubt you’d prefer to read more about cricket matters. But first – you now understand with frustration – you’re going to have to get through a section of playful digression about toasties, plus an further tangential section of self-referential analysis in the direct address. You sigh again.
He turns the sandwich on to a plate and moves toward the fridge. “It’s uncommon,” he states, “but I actually like the toastie cold. Boom, in the fridge. You let the cheese firm up, go for a hit, come back. Perfect. Sandwich is perfect.”
Alright, to cut to the chase. Shall we get the sports aspect initially? Little treat for making it this far. And while there may still be six weeks until the series opener, Labuschagne’s hundred against the Tigers – his third in recent months in all formats – feels quietly decisive.
This is an Aussie opening batsmen clearly missing form and structure, revealed against South Africa in the World Test Championship final, exposed again in the Caribbean afterwards. Labuschagne was omitted during that trip, but on a certain level you sensed Australia were desperate to rehabilitate him at the first opportunity. Now he looks to have given them the ideal reason.
And this is a strategy Australia must implement. Khawaja has just one 100 in his past 44 innings. Sam Konstas looks less like a Test opener and more like the good-looking star who might portray a cricketer in a Indian film. No other options has presented a strong argument. One contender looks out of form. Harris is still oddly present, like dust or mold. Meanwhile their skipper, Pat Cummins, is unfit and suddenly this feels like a weirdly lightweight side, missing command or stability, the kind of natural confidence that has often put Australia 2-0 up before a game starts.
Step forward Marnus: a leading Test player as recently as 2023, just left out from the ODI side, the right person to return structure to a brittle empire. And we are informed this is a composed and reflective Labuschagne now: a simplified, fundamental-focused Labuschagne, no longer as maniacally obsessed with minor adjustments. “I feel like I’ve really simplified things,” he said after his century. “Not overthinking, just what I need to bat effectively.”
Naturally, few accept this. Most likely this is a rebrand that exists only in Labuschagne’s personal view: still endlessly adjusting that technique from morning to night, going deeper into fundamentals than anyone has ever dared. Prefer simplicity? Marnus will spend months in the practice sessions with coaches and video clips, exhaustively remoulding himself into the simplest player that has ever been seen. This is simply the trait of the obsessed, and the characteristic that has consistently made Labuschagne one of the deeply fascinating players in the sport.
Perhaps before this inscrutably unpredictable Ashes series, there is even a kind of pleasing dissonance to Labuschagne’s unquenchable obsession. For England we have a squad for whom technical study, let alone self-analysis, is a risky subject. Feel the flavours. Focus on the present. Embrace the current.
In the other corner you have a player such as Labuschagne, a individual completely dedicated with the game and totally indifferent by public perception, who observes cricket even in the moments outside play, who approaches this quirky game with exactly the level of odd devotion it requires.
And it worked. During his shamanic phase – from the time he walked out to come in for a hurt Smith at Lord’s in 2019 to through 2022 – Labuschagne somehow managed to see the game on another level. To reach it – through absolute focus – on a elevated, strange, passionate tier. During his stint in Kent league cricket, teammates would find him on the day of a match resting on a bench in a trance-like state, actually imagining each delivery of his time at the crease. According to Cricviz, during the early stages of his career a unusually large number of chances were dropped off his bat. In some way Labuschagne had predicted events before fielders could respond to change it.
It’s possible this was why his career began to disintegrate the point he became number one. There were no worlds left to visualise, just a empty space before his eyes. Furthermore – he lost faith in his cover drive, got trapped on the crease and seemed to misjudge his positioning. But it’s part of the same issue. Meanwhile his trainer, his coach, thinks a focus on white-ball cricket started to undermine belief in his alignment. Positive development: he’s now excluded from the ODI side.
No doubt it’s important, too, that Labuschagne is a man of deep religious faith, an committed Christian who believes that this is all predetermined, who thus sees his role as one of accessing this state of flow, no matter how mysterious it may appear to the ordinary people.
This approach, to my mind, has consistently been the primary contrast between him and Smith, a instinctive player
Elara is a passionate esports journalist with over a decade of experience covering major gaming events and trends.