The Yorkshireman set a high standard on his Test debut behind the stumps but keeping wicket for England requires him to make runs as well as take his catches
Ultimately the prospects of Jonny Bairstow remaining England's wicket-keeper over a long period of time will be heavily dependent upon how many runs he scores. That is the modern way. In this he has one apparent advantage. He has already been picked for England as a specialist Test batsman 12 times. However on Thursday night Bairstow did not do himself many favours.
Mitchell Johnson whistled a ball through his open gate. The feet did not move in the right direction in the milli-second he had to react; nor did his bat and the stumps were splattered. He was not the first Englishman to be humbled by Johnson this series. But it did not look good.
However Bairstow is an all-rounder now. And, of course, it still matters how he carries out his other job with the gloves. Here was his chance to keep for England for the first time in Test cricket in front of a much smaller crowd than on the first day – only 78,346.
Bairstow is not the first in the family to keep wicket in Australia. His father, David, did so in the late seventies. Memorably Mike Brearley sent him to the boundary for the last ball of a tight one-day match against the West Indies in Sydney in November 1979 (a ploy that would not be allowed now) and the game was won.
Jonny positioned himself more conventionally behind the stumps at the MCG and it was not long before he was in the action – one ball, in fact, since wicket-keepers have additional duties now. Jimmy Anderson's first delivery thudded into Chris Rogers's pads. Out came the appeal with young Bairstow at full volume; the finger stayed down and Alastair Cook instinctively looked to his keeper as well as his bowler for guidance over whether to seek a review. Bairstow has to remember that as well as catching the ball in Test cricket he has to act as an auxiliary umpire. Somehow the new triumvirate reached the right conclusion: not to review.
Soon he was back to the old-fashioned task of catching the catches. His first one was ostensibly the simplest of tasks. The top-edged skier from the bat of David Warner offered an easy chance – except that the ball was in the air long enough for Bairstow to contemplate the consequences of dropping it. The ball landed safely in the middle of his gloves.
The catch which accounted for his second victim, Shane Watson, was not quite so straightforward; inside edges seldom are but here was another one neatly pouched. Now Bairstow gave the impression that he was starting to enjoy this. He was buzzing here, there and everywhere.
A good throw from the boundary, albeit a regulation one, from Monty Panesar, saw England's latest keeper scuttling across the turf to give a congratulatory pat on the backside. When Panesar came on to bowl the stump microphone informed the privileged few that Bairstow had found his tongue.
Every ball there was vehement encouragement for Monty. "We're halfway there,"he bellowed rather bizarrely at one point since the score was 91 for three (though with Australia 164 for nine at the close this now seems quite prescient).
"Finish it off, Monty. Great bowling, Monty."
Panesar soon knew that he would not lack encouragement with this new red-faced keeper behind the stumps. Here were echoes of another time when David Bairstow was the wicket-keeper in my first outing for England at Lord's in 1980 in a one-day match against the West Indies. It seemed that every ball that I bowled which was not struck for four (and there were a few of those) was hailed as "great bowling" in unmistakable Yorkshire tones from behind the stumps.
In a way it was all ridiculously over the top but how a nervous debutant appreciated the constant, cacophonous support from one of the most spirited, selfless cricketers in the land. On that tour of Australia under Brearley in another one day match Bairstow senior once strode over to his new partner, fellow Tyke Graham Stevenson, when 35 were need in six overs with just two wickets remaining and he bellowed. "Evening, lad. We can piss this". And so they did.
Bairstow junior is almost certainly a better batsman than his father. He will have to improve to be a better keeper. But he did himself no harm on Friday. There was one other straightforward catch, neatly taken, to get rid of George Bailey once the third umpire had been consulted.
He kept smartly up at the stumps to Panesar in between praising him to the skies. All the while he scurried around, brimful of zest as England's out-cricket surpassed anything we have witnessed in the series so far. The wicketkeeper is supposed to be the fulcrum and Bairstow set the right tone.
Apart from his energy he was seldom noticed. And when the wicket-keeper is not noticed, he is doing a good job. With the gloves he set a high standard on his first day; he needs to score some runs now. Reported by guardian.co.uk 5 hours ago.
Ultimately the prospects of Jonny Bairstow remaining England's wicket-keeper over a long period of time will be heavily dependent upon how many runs he scores. That is the modern way. In this he has one apparent advantage. He has already been picked for England as a specialist Test batsman 12 times. However on Thursday night Bairstow did not do himself many favours.
Mitchell Johnson whistled a ball through his open gate. The feet did not move in the right direction in the milli-second he had to react; nor did his bat and the stumps were splattered. He was not the first Englishman to be humbled by Johnson this series. But it did not look good.
However Bairstow is an all-rounder now. And, of course, it still matters how he carries out his other job with the gloves. Here was his chance to keep for England for the first time in Test cricket in front of a much smaller crowd than on the first day – only 78,346.
Bairstow is not the first in the family to keep wicket in Australia. His father, David, did so in the late seventies. Memorably Mike Brearley sent him to the boundary for the last ball of a tight one-day match against the West Indies in Sydney in November 1979 (a ploy that would not be allowed now) and the game was won.
Jonny positioned himself more conventionally behind the stumps at the MCG and it was not long before he was in the action – one ball, in fact, since wicket-keepers have additional duties now. Jimmy Anderson's first delivery thudded into Chris Rogers's pads. Out came the appeal with young Bairstow at full volume; the finger stayed down and Alastair Cook instinctively looked to his keeper as well as his bowler for guidance over whether to seek a review. Bairstow has to remember that as well as catching the ball in Test cricket he has to act as an auxiliary umpire. Somehow the new triumvirate reached the right conclusion: not to review.
Soon he was back to the old-fashioned task of catching the catches. His first one was ostensibly the simplest of tasks. The top-edged skier from the bat of David Warner offered an easy chance – except that the ball was in the air long enough for Bairstow to contemplate the consequences of dropping it. The ball landed safely in the middle of his gloves.
The catch which accounted for his second victim, Shane Watson, was not quite so straightforward; inside edges seldom are but here was another one neatly pouched. Now Bairstow gave the impression that he was starting to enjoy this. He was buzzing here, there and everywhere.
A good throw from the boundary, albeit a regulation one, from Monty Panesar, saw England's latest keeper scuttling across the turf to give a congratulatory pat on the backside. When Panesar came on to bowl the stump microphone informed the privileged few that Bairstow had found his tongue.
Every ball there was vehement encouragement for Monty. "We're halfway there,"he bellowed rather bizarrely at one point since the score was 91 for three (though with Australia 164 for nine at the close this now seems quite prescient).
"Finish it off, Monty. Great bowling, Monty."
Panesar soon knew that he would not lack encouragement with this new red-faced keeper behind the stumps. Here were echoes of another time when David Bairstow was the wicket-keeper in my first outing for England at Lord's in 1980 in a one-day match against the West Indies. It seemed that every ball that I bowled which was not struck for four (and there were a few of those) was hailed as "great bowling" in unmistakable Yorkshire tones from behind the stumps.
In a way it was all ridiculously over the top but how a nervous debutant appreciated the constant, cacophonous support from one of the most spirited, selfless cricketers in the land. On that tour of Australia under Brearley in another one day match Bairstow senior once strode over to his new partner, fellow Tyke Graham Stevenson, when 35 were need in six overs with just two wickets remaining and he bellowed. "Evening, lad. We can piss this". And so they did.
Bairstow junior is almost certainly a better batsman than his father. He will have to improve to be a better keeper. But he did himself no harm on Friday. There was one other straightforward catch, neatly taken, to get rid of George Bailey once the third umpire had been consulted.
He kept smartly up at the stumps to Panesar in between praising him to the skies. All the while he scurried around, brimful of zest as England's out-cricket surpassed anything we have witnessed in the series so far. The wicketkeeper is supposed to be the fulcrum and Bairstow set the right tone.
Apart from his energy he was seldom noticed. And when the wicket-keeper is not noticed, he is doing a good job. With the gloves he set a high standard on his first day; he needs to score some runs now. Reported by guardian.co.uk 5 hours ago.