Travis Head and “The simplicity of method.”

Two days into the third Test, a shining light continues to illuminate, negating the predictable commentary surrounding the current complexities of Test match batting—the apparent brittleness of both sides' batters is extenuating this batting malaise.

Travis Head—Australia—gathered 152 runs from 160 balls on the back of a Test-winning century in Adelaide. Brisbane was awash on Saturday; a day later, it saw a straightforward player employ a simple method to maximum effect. Head will undoubtedly send a Christmas card to Indian captain Rohit Sharma.

Head accumulated as many false shots as his fellow centurion, Steve Smith; however, his propensity for the risk-and-reward game far outweighed his burdened partner. The partnership was a match made in Brisbane.

---

SpeakingNick is supported by your subscriptions. I thank you sincerely and if you are still a free subscriber, please, if you can, consider subscribing. Thank you.

---

Simplicity and brevity are the key messages here, so with that in mind, I'll avoid negativity and statistical mire. But, it is odd that Head employs such a risk-laden game yet enjoys success more often than he doesn't and more often than his more conservative peers.

In cricket-batting speak, we create a fog of conflicting theories and constantly float undefinable statements: contact points, draw-swings, bat paths, swing planes, access, closed-off, triggers, ball-tracking, and body-part connections. You could go on; somewhere, an aspiring coach is drafting a new formula to change the world. And, it matters not one bit to Travis Head.

The simplicity of his method relies on him finding the ball (tracking) and then hitting that ball the best he can (contact)—period.

This naked mindset starkly contrasts his batting-order predecessors, Marnus Labuschagne and Steve Smith.

Steve Smith returned to his soft-shoe-shuffling routine and posted his fourth Gabba hundred—the previous three, India in 2014, Pakistan in 2016, and England in 2017, were from a different vintage; this one was unexpectantly overdue and necessary.

This hundred had many misjudgements, in-ball adjustments, inside edges, and handsy driving. Interestingly, Smith again pivoted on his method, and his tank is less than half full. He is a committed cricketer demanding every last drop of what he has left.

Australia should be more appreciative of a generational talent that serves them loyally.

Anyway, back to Travis Head. The pithy I write here perfectly matches the modus operandi employed by Head. Short, concise, and blindingly simple—that's more Travis Head's batting than my discourse.

Travis Head repeated the 'find and hit' process 160 times until he went out; when he did, Head just walked off, sat down, and would have waited until he could drink a beer. There is nothing else to say. He also placed his side in a commanding position.

---

---

Simplicity in the method is a stark reminder that repeatable actions underpin any attempt to master something.

Whatever your pursuit is. Strip away the unnecessary, and train and trust the fundamentals.