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Friday 5 February 2021

Temba Bavuma and 'that average'.

Something happened when I was at St. George’s Park, watching that heroic effort of Sri
Lanka to become the first sub-continent team to beat us at home in a test series. Watching
Temba Bavuma fail in both innings felt as if this was somehow... out of character. When the
chips were down, Bavuma often dug in and rescued us, and now he had failed. Or was I
wrong? Had I made the whole thing up? Or only remembered the good bits because I want
him to succeed and silence all the quota talk?

This needed further investigation. How did I come by this notion? His average is only 33, I noticed. Perhaps I dreamed it all in a restless feverish sleep, anticipating more disasters in the looming World Cup. My memory is not that great, I’ve watched a lot of highlights packages of a lot of tests, and attended a couple here and there. They blur into each other, then into the ODIs. There’s too much being played to make sense of it all.

Well, time went by. Spending the whole day on howstat.com wasn’t high on my list of priorities. But eventually I got round to it and this is what I found:


Bavuma has batted in a total of 59 innings over 36 test matches. Five of those innings were removed from my study for being statistically irrelevant (two small scores (one not-out) in a final innings chase of a tiny target, three innings when the match was petering out in the face of impending rain or as a result of too much time lost to rain).


He has failed a total of 30 times, fail meaning a score under 30, although a score of 29 as part of a meaningful partnership with our backs to the wall isn’t necessarily a fail. Nevertheless, that was the benchmark I set. Besides, he only has three scores in the 30s where he lost his wicket, and two of these couldn’t be considered failures in the context of the match. He has succeeded a total of 24 times.


On 19 of those occasions where he failed, we were cruising in top gear, with big partnerships up ahead in the order. In 13 of the 19, he simply wasn’t needed. In six, the situation wasn’t in any way serious at the time he came in, but in retrospect, and in the context of the match, we could have used a contribution from him.


Here is where the stats get even more interesting: of his 24 successes, ten of those came when the situation we were in was very serious, and a further nine came when the situation we were in was nothing short of dire. In other words, his 24 successes included 19 occasions where he delivered when we were fighting for our lives (either after a complete top order collapse, or else after a reasonable start but then a sudden flurry of 3 or more wickets) but only five when we were in a comfortable position. Also, of those 19 occasions where he rescued us, in 15 he delivered big, meaning he got the highest score, was involved in the highest partnership (sometimes the highest two partnerships), scored 50 plus, or two or more of the above. Always though, there were the big partnerships.


His 11 ‘meaningful failures’ included three occasions where the entire team failed and three where all but one batsman failed. In other words, in six of the innings where he failed, we were collectively put to the sword. That leaves five meaningful failures from 59 innings.  There is much talk of his average of 33, but if we take away the 13 innings against Sri Lanka where he averages just 13, and look at the averages against stronger teams, a different picture emerges: averages of 43 over 9 innings against Australia, 39 over 15 against England, 40 over 8 against New Zealand, and 43 over 4 against Pakistan. Too few innings were played against India (one) and West Indies (two) to constitute an average one can draw any conclusions from, but against Sri Lanka he averages just 13 from 13 innings. This, I thought, warranted closer inspection.


In August 2018, we played two tests in Sri Lanka where we were comprehensively demolished. In the first test, in Galle, we were bowled out for 126 in reply to Sri Lanka’s 287. Faf (49) was the only batsman to go past 20, with Bavuma getting the second highest score of just 17. Our second innings was even worse: all out for 73 with only Big Vern Philander going past 20. 


The second test in Colombo saw us post 124 in reply to 338 with only Amla, Faf, Bavuma and De Kock reaching double figures. The target the Lankans set us to win the match was impossible: 490. All we could do was save face, which it didn’t look like we would do when De Bruyn and Bavuma come together with the score on 113 for 5. They took the score to 236, and we were able to reach a respectable 290. Their partnership of 123 was the only hundred run partnership we had in the series, De Bruyn reaching a century in that 4th innings, a rare feat on turning Sri Lankan wickets.


In the summer of 2015/16, we had comprehensively thrashed Sri Lanka, with Bavuma failing in every innings. We had compiled big totals in all of them by the time he came to the crease, his failures having no effect on any of the results.


Then there was the last series we played, earlier this year. Looking back, it seems almost as if that series was written in the stars for the Lankans, although one wouldn’t have thought so from the way the first four days of the first test at Kingsmead played out for them. But, like the end (Kusal Perera’s unforgettable 153), their start was nothing short of brilliant. They had us on the ropes, with our first three batsmen contributing just 14 runs between them. Bavuma came in with South Africa on 9 for 2, and 8 runs later Markram also fell. Faf and Bavuma immediately set about rebuilding. Du Plessis fell 72 runs later, their partnership being the only one above 50. Bavuma was victim to a bizarre run out with the score on 110, De Kock driving the ball onto the bowler Fernando’s foot which deflected it onto the stumps to catch Bavuma short of his crease, three runs shy of his 50. But he’d done his job, and with
a quick 80 from De Kock (ably supported by Maharaj) we went on to post a respectable 235. We bowled Sri Lanka out for 191, and in our second innings we had lost only one wicket for 70 when Amla fell and Bavuma came to the crease. Much less pressure than before, and true to form, he fell cheaply. Faf hit a brilliant 90 and we set Sri Lanka a daunting target of 304 in the 4th innings. But Perera’s heroic knock went down as the 2nd highest score of all time by a Sri Lankan in a final innings anywhere. He stood in our way and simply didn’t budge until they were over the line, and Bavuma must have been left wondering “what if” regarding his unlucky runout.


This was the pattern that began to emerge as I perused the minutiae of Bavuma’s test career: gritty, heroic efforts with our backs to the wall, cheap scores when it didn’t really matter. All the series we have played against the stronger test teams are littered with these extremely important contributions from Bavuma. Big scores win matches, some people will tell you, but nothing can lose a match quite like a major batting collapse. Sometimes averting just one collapse in one match can end up winning not only the match but the series too. Earlier in 2017, we had played a three test series in New Zealand. The first test in drizzly Dunedin had started poorly for us, Amla, Cook and Duminy all falling by the time the score was 22. Faf and Elgar combined for a stand of 126, before Bavuma came in to add another 104 with Elgar, before falling to Trent Boult for 64. Both his and Elgars knocks were ground out from a great many overs, Elgar’s patient 140 helping us to a score of 308. The hosts surpassed us
by three runs on the back of a century by their captain, but ultimately the test went nowhere due to the rain.


In the 2nd test in Wellington, we restricted New Zealand to 268, but once again they had us not just on the ropes, but pretty much entangled in them, all of our top order failing with the bat. Bavuma (batting 7 at that stage) came to the crease with the score on 94 for 6 and together with De Kock, put on 160 runs before each of them fell just short of their centuries, Bavuma being bounced out by Tim Southee for 89. The victory also came courtesy of Maharaj, who took 6 scalps, and Morne Morkel, whose opening spell destroyed the New Zealand top order. It was thanks only to Bavuma and De Kock that they had something to bowl at, and we crossed the final target of 88 with ease.


The series ended with another rain affected draw in Hamilton, a lucky let off as New Zealand had posted a huge score of 489 thanks to 170 from Kane Williamson. We were 80 for 5 in pursuit of a big target when the rains came and washed out the last day entirely, the stand of 160 by Bavuma and De Kock in that 2 nd test, and the combined brilliance of Maharaj and Morkel at the back end of the match being the ingredients that essentially sealed the series win for us.


If pressure brings out the best in Bavuma, it is Australia who, since our first series win in 2008, brings out the best in South Africa as a team, to the point where beating us is now as important to their players as winning the Ashes. In the summer of 2016 we toured there again for a three match series, and played our first test at The Wacca in Perth, its pitch regarded as the quickest and bounciest in the world.


At this point, no Australian had faced Kagiso Rabada. He, along with Big Vern, was to give them a lesson in fast bowling. It has gone down as one of our most famous test wins in that each of the first innings started out so terribly for us. In the first we were in a truly perilous situation very quickly. Cook and Amla had both gotten ducks, leaving us at 5 for 2, and Elgar had gone shortly thereafter. Bavuma came in at 6 to join Faf when the fourth wicket of JP Duminy fell with the score on 42 and the Australians in a belligerent mood. The crowd wanted more quick blood.


They didn’t get it. Bavuma stayed with Faf until they were one run shy of their 50 partnership and Faf was caught in the slips. Bavuma and De Kock once again put together the highest partnership of the innings, 71, before Sean Marsh pulled off an unbelievable catch to remove Bavuma. De Kock stayed until nearly the end, putting on 48 with Maharaj who was playing his first test, giving us a score of 242 that could so easily have been under 120.


Australia completely dominated the next few sessions, Warner and Marsh forging an opening stand of 158. Dale Steyn eventually removed Warner three shy of his hundred, but in his very next over and just before lunch, he trudged off in the same direction as the Australian opener, clutching his shoulder. He would play no more part in the series, and most people at that point wouldn’t have given us a snowball’s hope of winning the match, never mind the series.


It was then that Rabada announced his arrival to the Australians. Together with Philander and Maharaj, in that 2nd test they took the remaining nine wickets for 96 runs, Maharaj’s maiden test wicket being the very important one of Steve Smith who came dancing down the track to him and was lbw. At 150 for 0, most people were expecting the Australians to pass our score by at least 250. They passed it by just 2.


Things only got worse for Australia. After having us in a spot of bother at 45 for 2, Duminy came in for a monster partnership of 250 with Dean Elgar, each of them getting hundreds. True to form, with the pressure off, Bavuma failed, getting just 8 runs. One can’t say we didn’t need him though. One always needs runs against Australia. But fortunately, Big Vern combined first with De Kock and then with Maharaj, in partnerships adding 116 and 72 respectively before we declared on 540, leaving Australia one run less than that to win. One of Bavuma’s defining moments in his career was about to come, but
not with the bat. 


David Warner had scored 97 in their first innings, and it looked like he was intent on chasing down the target of 539. He was on 35 and going at more than a run a ball when he pushed one out in front of point, where Bavuma was fielding. Bavuma swept in and stooping low on his right side, grabbed the ball in his right hand, allowing the momentum to whip his legs out from underneath him. Now briefly suspended in mid-air and with his body horizontal to the ground, his left foot actually higher off the ground than his head, he whipped the ball at high speed towards the stumps for a direct hit, catching Warner just two inches out of his crease. The commentators were stunned, the crowd silent. It’s a remarkable thing to watch in slomo, and it’s all over the internet, one the most astonishing runouts you’re likely to see. A bog-standard underarm throw wouldn’t have stood a chance against someone as fast between the wickets as Warner.


Australia battled valiantly but ultimately fell 177 runs short. We have never lost a test at The Wacca, but without Bavuma playing his part in those 1 st innings partnerships, and his runout of Warner, we would almost certainly no longer be able to say that. He also took the wicket of Josh Hazelwood with a pretty nothing delivery.


Australia must have now been in a state of shock. At the next test in Hobart we destroyed them, or to be more precise, Philander and Abbot destroyed them, bowling them out for 85 in the 1 st innings, their lowest score against us in Australia. But as we know, with Australia one always needs runs, and in our first innings we were once again in deep trouble early on at 46 for 3, then 76 for 4 when Faf fell and Bavuma came to the crease. He put on 56 with Hashim and then forged a huge partnership of 144 with De Kock. It was tough going, Bavuma’s 74 coming off 204 deliveries, and the ’keeper also scoring at a rate slower than normal for his century. An innings defeat in any of the tests was surely not what the Australians would have been expecting when Dale Steyn had walked off the field and out of the series, but this is what we now handed them, with Bavuma’s contributions being integral to the victory, and ultimately to us winning the series.


Perusing the scorecards from all the other tests Bavuma has played merely confirms the pattern outlined in these two series against Australia and New Zealand: he is either digging us out of a big fat hole, or failing when we don’t need him, or indeed when the entire team fails. This is why he comes in at  number 6 or 7, and calls for him to move up the order are misguided and do not take cognisance of the vital role he plays when we are in trouble. They are surpassed in idiocy only by accusations that he does not deserve his place in the team because his average is 33. His average is never going to be huge if he comes in at 6 or 7. He will always run out of partners, or fall near the end in a bid to hit runs fearing the last of the tailenders falls before him, and his single century, at Newlands, ranks among his lesser important contributions to the outcome of a test match. 

A five day test, ultimately, is a test of character, a test of grit and a test of determination. The records show that Temba Bavuma has these in spades, as much as any of the great batsmen we have produced since readmission. In fact, you could say they’ve become the defining characteristic of his game. He is The Fixer when it all falls apart.

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