11 days and one session.
The series hadn’t even reached the half-way mark before it was all over, in triumph for Australia under their perpetually smiling captain, in abject misery for England.
The exhilaration of Headingley seems a universe away, a lifetime ago; not just the exhilaration of home side but the thrilling nature of Test cricket itself and the feeling that anything is possible in the highest form of the game.
Instead of an enthralling contest, steeped in history and venerated lore, we are left with extremes; one side which can do little wrong on its ascendancy, the other shattered in virtually every possible way.
How long ago does it seem that Tim Paine’s tawdry texts threw Australian cricket into turmoil? How long since rumours of player dissatisfaction with Justin Langer’s intense micromanagement swirled their way onto the back pages?
All that has been cast into the dimmest shade by the glorious sunshine that bathed Pat Cummins and his troops in a golden light at the MCG.
Every decision made by Australia’s selectors has borne fruit; Cummins’ captaincy was as inspiring as his flawless spells, Steve Smith slotted in smoothy when called upon in Adelaide, each new bowler stood tall when added to the XI, Travis Head completed the middle order and Marcus Harris repaid the faith bestowed upon him by withstanding England’s probing attack in Melbourne and posting the highest total in the third Test.
The Australians rewarded a city which has endured six lockdowns totalling 262 miserable days with seven sessions of thumping joy, none more so than the final hour of the second day, when the MCG throbbed and heaved as the heartbeat of Melbourne to the rhythm of fast bowling carnage.
That Scott Boland, the local lad also representing the sacred culture of this country’s original inhabitants, recorded the extraordinary figures of 6 for 7 and wore the Mullagh Medal as Player of the Match was the cherry on top of the icing on the cake.
Nothing should take away from those achievements and the Australian team should rightly be proud of them all.
But for England this is the most wretched of tours and there is misery almost everywhere the uncomfortable spotlight is directed.
They started the third day 51 runs behind with five wickets in hand and their two best batters at the crease.
The pitch was undeniably troublesome and Australia’s fast bowlers electric but to see them capitulate and lose by an innings and 14 runs before lunch was utterly deflating for anyone who enjoys competitive Test cricket.
That it was no real surprise that the death rattle sounded so quickly on the third morning of the third Test is perhaps the most shocking thing of all.
Even if England somehow scrape a consolation win in one or both of the remaining games - and it would be a brave person to bank on it - this defeat feels considerably worse than the whitewash of 2013-14; at least in that series there were moments of uncertainty, Brad Haddin salvaging Australia’s batting with the help of the tail or Ben Stokes’ fighting century at the WACA, compared to the lopsided nature of these three matches played so far.
Joe Root is a brilliant cricketer and a thoroughly decent man who seems to carry the entire weight of English cricket on his shoulders and whose captaincy is now being slammed in many quarters; where are the supporting pillars to share the load?
The bowlers stood up in Melbourne but the batting was once again found wanting.
It is not for want of effort and hard work but all the quirky drills and laborious training sessions have come to nothing in the end; England’s batters have spent far more time in the nets than they have in the middle, just as they spent more days in quarantine than it took to lose the series.
And it’s not as though there was a plethora of obvious alternatives screaming to be selected; it is a sobering fact that this may be the best England have to offer, although the selection process involving the captain and head coach, whose purview seems unlimited, must surely be heavily scrutinised.
And where are the spinners who can offer control and find ways to attack away from the comfy Taunton pitches that have produced Jack Leach and Dom Bess; one who seemed to be selected and used tentatively while the other has only been trusted as a useful net bowler?
As England have searched for their hands and feet and lengths and tactics throughout the tour they have resembled puppets with strings cut; where is the insight and guidance to steady their path?
Before the MCG Test, the ECB’s Chief Executive Tom Harrison, one of the men responsible for the state of English cricket and who should be answerable to all these questions, watched over the nets session and chatted amiably with coach Chris Silverwood.
Instead of his usual suit and tie he wore jeans and an England shirt, somewhat casual for an executive who, along with a handful of others, will claim a share of a £2.1 million bonus pie for his services to English cricket when he walks away from the game, trumpeting the success of The Hundred; the cost of this tour may take much longer to calculate.
Yes, there have been mitigating circumstances; poor preparation, Covid bubbles, foreign conditions and some players with little experience of the hostile cauldron of Australian cricket.
But these are all part and parcel of an Ashes tour, one for which England have been sadly ill-qualified.
Where they go from here, if indeed the full series is played, remains to be seen; one can only hope that, relieved from the burden of reclaiming The Urn, they can start the rebuilding process and find some hope and freedom while deeper and more honest introspection begins around them.
But all this is far from the minds of a carefree Australia, basking in the sunshine of a victorious summer and the knowledge that however many days remain in this series, each one will have the ring of exultant triumph.
11 days and one session was all it took to ensure it.
