Scares, tests, masks and nets: The story of tip-toeing through Australia during a pandemic

As Australia and India served up a Test series for the ages MEL FARRELL attempted to navigate her way across borders and around restrictions, almost without fail

Mel Farrell is a freelance presenter, journalist and commentator and formerly of ESPNCricinfo.

Writing exclusively for The Cricketer, she tells the story of India's extraordinary tour of Australia which ended with a remarkable Test series victory.

From Adelaide to Melbourne, Sydney to Brisbane (sort of), Mel tells the tale of a unique tour dominated by Covid-19 scares and thrilling cricket.

1st ODI, SCG (November 17)

It was the familiar faces you noticed first. It was also the lack of familiar faces. An India tour is always a sardine cram, jostling for space in the press box, the press conferences and at the nets. It’s a chance to reconnect with people you haven’t seen for a few months or a few years. I always joked that I got my twice-yearly quota of hugs on day one of a tour. But no journalists had been allowed to travel from India; this would be a small travelling pack.

Everything was different. It was there in the temperature checks, online questionnaires and the QR codes required for entry. Until the India squad had landed in Sydney the certainty of the series was far from secure and the possibility of further outbreaks gave all the stability of a house of cards built on a bowl of jelly floating on rough seas.  

Yet it was still a day of smiles and chatter and anticipation. For me, deprived of the familiar camaraderie and purpose of covering a cricket tour for far longer than usual, there was also a sense of relief and homecoming.

Tour Match, Drummoyne/T20Is, SCG - Indians v Australia A (December 6-8)

Drummoyne Oval is one of the prettiest grounds in Australia. Nestled in a sparkling bay, dotted with yachts, its picket-fenced field circled by enormous Moreton Bay Fig trees, it provided an idyllic backdrop to the first tour match: a three-day contest between Australia A and Indians. The tourists choice of name was an interesting one. Not India A, but Indians. It suggested this was not a second-string side and the line-up confirmed it, captained by Ajinkya Rahane and including certain first Test players Ravichandran Ashwin, Cheteshwar Pujara, Umesh Yadav, Wriddhiman Saha and Hanuma Vihari. 

But Australia had provided an unusually strong line up for a tour match. All too often, these are played on inferior pitches against a group of largely unknown and inexperienced local players. But the pitch was exceptionally good and Australia A was mostly stocked with genuine Test contenders. 

Covid-19 restrictions led to a unique situation. The dressing rooms were separated from each other and the limited facilities meant our small work area – six or seven journalists were present – was in a large room that doubled as the Indians dressing room, with portable screens providing the only separation.

^{Access to nets, while it lasted, was invaluable}

There was a lot of chatter, none of it in English. At one point Rishabh Pant’s chitchat became so loud that Cricbuzz’s Bharat Sundaresan called out, asking him to turn down the volume because it was difficult for everyone to work. It wasn’t particularly successful but it’s hard to be annoyed with Rishabh, always one of the first to wave and say a friendly hello. He wasn’t playing in this match but at every opportunity, he would run laps and do sprint work. “I need it,” he called out to me after one of the sessions. 

On days one and three we experienced the full spectrum of modern cricket. After seeing Cameron Green stake his claim for a Test berth and the impressive credentials of Mohammed Siraj, Bharat and I drove across town to the SCG for the final two T20 matches of the tour’s white-ball stage. Here there was pumping music, noisy crowds and flashy shots. It was like feasting on a sugary dessert after eating a well-balanced salad. There were also Test players, highlighting the difficulty of finding the right preparation in a truncated tour and the sometimes uneasy balance the game needs to strike between the most lucrative form of the game with its most satisfying older relative.  

Day/Night pink ball tour match, SCG - Indians v Australia A (December 11-13)

The most memorable moment of a largely forgettable – and more typical – tour match, did not happen on the field.

Sometimes more can be gleaned by watching the nets sessions taking place during play. I wandered down to where Bharat and Gav Joshi, the Netty Professors, were keeping a close eye on proceedings. As I walked into the viewing area, I saw Virat Kohli rapped on the pads. The bowler was T Natrajan, who had impressed in the T20s and stayed on purely as a net bowler. He was a handful, beating the bats of Kohli, Pujara and Rahane.

If you were judging purely by this, you’d think he was a genuine contender for the Test side. But that was silly, of course. He was so far down the pecking order and wasn’t even part of the squad. No matter how good he looked, there was virtually no chance he would play for the rest of the tour.

A victory founded on elegance, resistance and showmanship: This was Test cricket in all its glory

First Test, Adelaide Oval (December 17-21)

The house of cards was wobbling. Adelaide had managed to contain a Covid-19 outbreak in the weeks leading up to the first Test, causing doubts about Adelaide Oval’s viability as a venue.

Now we were all there, the Test had started and the news broke: there was a significant outbreak in Sydney’s Northern beaches. Anyone who had been in a hotspot was required to immediately isolate and be tested. My phone pinged on the second morning of the Test: Cricket Australia sent a list of postcodes with instructions to contact them immediately if we had been in any of those areas.

The list was a lottery of doom but, thankfully, I was clear. Others weren’t so lucky. Ian Chappell was sent back to his hotel to quarantine in the afternoon; that morning I had seen him in the corridor and he told a group of us he wasn’t sure what was happening. An ABC commentator was also told to leave the ground. Members of the broadcast crew followed. Brett Lee flew back to Sydney to be with his family in case there were more border closures; some journalists decided to follow. There was a sudden tension for those of us who remained.

India’s historic collapse meant I had a day to wind down in Adelaide before flying to Melbourne for the second Test. I was sharing an apartment with colleague Geoff Lemon and he was asleep when I ventured out for brunch. Ping. A text came through from a friend. “Will you still be able to get to Melbourne?”

I immediately checked the news. The Victorian state Premier had designated all of greater Sydney a red zone and anyone who had been there after December 11th would be barred from entering Victoria after midnight unless they quarantined for 14 days. I looked at the café’s clock; it was almost midday. I raced back to the apartment and banged on the still-sleeping Geoff’s bedroom door. “You need to get up. We have to make some quick decisions.” 

Three hours later we drove out of Adelaide airport, the only place open on a Sunday that allowed one-way car hires, and made a beeline to the Victorian border. As we crossed into Victoria, just before sunset, we let out a whoop of pure relief. 

At midnight, barely 12 hours after enjoying a leisurely coffee in Adelaide, I arrived in Melbourne. The house of cards was standing and I was still in the game. 

Sensational India, broken Australia and improving England tee-up intriguing Ashes series

Boxing Day Test, MCG (December 26-30)

My heart dropped through the soles of my feet and I reeled with disbelief. On my first day in Melbourne I’d taken a Covid test and the nurse who checked me in insisted I had to isolate until the 28th. I’d triple-checked the regulations before crossing the border and now they were telling me it had all been in vain. No nets and no attending the first three days of the Test.

I sat in my room for the rest of the day waiting for the result. They would text if it was positive and ring if it was negative. In the morning my phone rang; I steeled myself for bad news and answered. It was the clinic, calling me to apologise for providing the wrong information. I had tested negative and, because I had crossed the border before midnight, I was free to move about. Still in the game, barely.

Restrictions around training had tightened, so I donned a mask to watch training. On match days, I wore one until I reached my seat in the press box and settled in to watch India complete a remarkable turnaround. Some had predicted the absence of Virat Kohli and Mohammed Shami after the demolition in Adelaide would allow Australia to make a clean sweep of the series but now it was set up for an intriguing final two Tests.

The problem was we didn’t know where those Test would be played. The border situation was unpredictable and there were calls for the MCG to host the next Test and then go straight to Brisbane. Others suggested two Sydney Tests. The option of returning to Adelaide was also mooted. It was impossible to plan anything.

Mel Jones had kindly provided a spare room for me to stay and told me to make myself at home while she visited a friend in rural New South Wales. It meant I could remain in Melbourne until the teams left, if they left, and follow them to wherever they were going. 

I had a quiet New Year’s Eve, celebrating alone with a glass of prosecco (ok, maybe two or three) looking out over the city skyline. The next morning I awoke to the sound of a message on my phone. I was starting to regard the noise as the ping of doom. It was from Mel. The borders had been completely closed from all of NSW to Victoria at midnight and she was caught on the wrong side. She would return that day and isolate for 14 days, unable to commentate on the Big Bash. She felt awful for asking, but could I find somewhere else to stay? I packed my bags and bounced between hotels and Alison Mitchell’s spare room (thank heavens for friends on tour) in between trying to glean information from net sessions on who was fit from both sides.

The swirling options for the next Test settled on Sydney. The players were flying on the 4th at noon. On the evening of the 3rd, I booked a flight that left one hour later. Just in case.

^{Cricbuzz’s Bharat Sundaresan also attended every day of the series - until the Queensland borders were closed}

Third Test, SCG (January 7-11)

Masks were now compulsory everywhere at the ground, except for when eating. It was the first time I’d watched cricket while wearing one, but with the tour more fragile than ever, it was a small price to pay.

One meal was particularly surreal. Each year the SCG Trust invites members of the media to dine in the Committee Room. I walked in and was directed to a table. As I sat down I looked around the small table at familiar faces; Steve Waugh, Alex Blackwell and former Prime Minister, John Howard. Sometimes, being a cricket journalist lands you in unexpected positions.

The 3rd Test was dominated by allegations of ugly crowd conduct, including racist taunts of Mohammed Siraj and Jasprit Bumrah, as well as controversy over the behaviour of Steve Smith and Tim Paine. It was particularly disappointing that such incidents threatened to overshadow the most thrilling draw I’d ever witnessed. But I’ve come to expect any series between these two countries will blow up at some stage. The only surprise was that it had taken until the 3rd Test.

Fourth Test, Gabba (January 15-19)

After intense negotiations between the BCCI, Cricket Australia and the Queensland Government over the level of restrictions, the teams left for Brisbane. But the borders remained closed for anyone else in Sydney. Bharat and I were the only journalists who had managed to attend every day of play and most of the training sessions of the tour, but now we had to concede defeat.

I watched India’s glorious victory on a television in Sydney. I saw Pant scampering between the wickets and thought of his running sessions in Drummoyne. I smiled as Natarajan took his first wicket, the man who had bowled so well in the nets but would surely not play on this tour. I laughed in disbelief as Washington Sundar pulled Pat Cummins for an audacious six and Siraj morphed from debutant to leader of the attack. And when Rahane lifted the trophy, I raised a glass in admiration. 

How I wished I was there, to witness and report on this fairytale conclusion on the spot. But although the pandemic had ultimately defeated me, I knew how lucky I was, to have been part of this crazy tour. Somehow, against all the odds, the house of cards had stood firm.