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Of all the retirements that mark out this Test, the one with the most impact on the first day's play was a shot David Warner no longer played.
The great Ryan Harris, taking a tea-time lap of honour before an appreciative Gabba, had the ceremonial ute to himself, but there was room beside him for another retiree: Warner's discarded halfie.
The halfie, for want of a better word, is the get-out shot that crept into Warner's game in the past two years. Half a pull, half a leg-side push, it was neither one thing nor the other. (Perhaps in deference to our New Zealand visitors, it could be called the Bob Cunis.) It was the type of afterthought that comes to batsmen with more natural talent than they know what to do with. Warner has such a good eye, he thought he could play this lazy non-cricket shot with impunity, until he couldn't anymore, and it began getting him out so frequently that opponents would plan for it.
In the first hour, Brendon McCullum and his bowlers targeted the halfie. Shortish balls were aimed into the halfie-zone, between Warner's right hip and ribs, and at times three fieldsmen were parked between mid-on and square leg for the anticipated pop off the leading edge. (The width of Warner's edges also added to the hazardousness of the halfie.)
What the New Zealanders did not bargain for was his decision to pack the sort-of shot into retirement. For an hour he dealt with those balls with a diligent vertical bat. If that meant he did not score, then so be it. By the time he was confident enough to pull, his blade was decisive and horizontal, tapping the ball on the head down to fine leg or smacking it across the chops in front of square. No more of that 45-degree twitch.
The retirement of the halfie added to the cumulative signs of Warner's ability to learn. Never considered one of the great intellects of cricket, he has done what many others have failed to do, which is change his game to eliminate mistakes. It shows a humility which is also not thought to be a Warner trait. The halfie was a hubris shot, and Warner has accepted the need to treat bowlers with more respect. Brains and responsibility: not the Warner you thought you knew.
Sportspeople are often fixed in the public mind as types or caricatures, but the rigidity is ours. In fact, they are humans who grow. Warner has made public statements about becoming a mature adult, but no words have been as convincing as the language of his batting. He has become more still and upright, shedding the coiled aggression of his bat-tapping. Most batsmen become more upright as they age, as back stiffness and seniority arrive together. To watch Warner in this seasoned age is to see a cricketer in the prime of his life.
As a partner to Joe Burns and Usman Khawaja, he was the voice of wisdom, advancing with a calming word after a loose shot or a nervous call. When they played good shots, he was also there to steady them. And they profited from his leadership. Burns was embalmed at the crease early, then somewhat panicky as he broke free, before settling into a comfortable rhythm. When Burns was out nicking Tim Southee, Khawaja played the No.3 role perfectly, injecting brightness and energy when he had every right to feel tense, and dominating the scoring as Warner paused to regather his strength.
The new men were towed along in Warner's slipstream. If he can adapt and grow up, why can't they? Warner had a good Ashes series – not as productive as he wanted, but a leap forward from his previous tour. He is probably aware his longest Test innings was four years ago, in his second match. His 132 not out against New Zealand in Hobart was, until Thursday, the only time he had batted for five hours. For an opener, that would be a lamentable statistic; for one who did not score as quickly as Warner, it would long since have ended his career. In this innings, he passed five hours for the second time. When he was out for 163, victim to a Ross Taylor screamer off the first chance he had given, Warner thumped the boundary hoarding in annoyance. If he can measure his innings in days rather than hours, Australia will be very hard to beat in any match they play.
Khawaja looks so natural and relaxed at Test level, it is a surprise he has not cemented his place before now. With a perceived weakness against spin, McCullum gave Mark Craig the ball as soon as Khawaja came in. The left-hander spanked a four in front of point and was not thereafter bothered by the off-spinner, or anyone else. His century was a superb rebuff to preconceptions. He is a trained pilot; that is, he is not sloppy in his work and has great reserves of concentration. He just lacked experience, but here he was, like Warner and Burns, growing up before our eyes.
