The Cult: Ricky Ponting

This article originally appeared on VICE Sports UK.

When Ricky Ponting walked to the wicket on the third day at Trent Bridge, he could not have fathomed what was about to happen. He might have envisaged his first few strokes, he might have dreamed of turning the tide against England, but there was no way he could have predicted just how important his innings would turn out to be. It was the Fourth Test of the 2005 Ashes, a series which was already shaping up to be one of the greatest of all time. He was about to make an error which would define the game, and react in a manner which would seal his place as England's ultimate cricketing antagonist.

For almost two hours, Ponting looked like he might repeat his heroics in the Third Test. Then, when Australia had needed him most, he put in a Man of the Match performance and salvaged a draw for his struggling side. His seven-hour, 156-run innings at Old Trafford had seriously dented England's momentum, and stopped them from taking a 2-1 lead in the series with two Tests left to play. Afterwards, Mike Atherton told him: "You're probably the most unpopular man in England right now."

Now, in the Fourth Test, Australia needed another heroic intervention from Ponting. The visitors' first innings had been borderline disastrous, with England's bowlers tearing through their batting order and leaving them 259 runs behind. In a bold move from England captain Michael Vaughan, Australia were given a humiliating slap in the face. The top team in Test cricket, the undisputed masters of the sport, were asked to follow-on for the first time in 17 years and 190 Tests. Ponting and his teammates were not best pleased. It showed in their response, which was to grit their teeth and battle their way to within 37 runs of England's total by evening.

It was then, in the evening session, that the unfathomable happened. Ponting had put 48 runs on the scoreboard, having faced a mere 89 balls. He looked to be on his way to another tenacious top-order innings, and to frustrating England's bowlers once again. Suddenly, he was in terrible peril. Suddenly, he was in a losing footrace with a hurtling, arrowing, hard-flung ball.

With the towering Freddie Flintoff bowling, Ponting's batting partner Damien Martyn nudged a delivery into the offside. Emboldened by the presence of his captain, he called Ponting out for a precarious single. In Martyn's mind it was good, aggressive batting, but in reality he had put Ponting in danger. Australia's would-be saviour set off, sprinting with all his might for the line.

In those endless few moments, a little-known substitute had gathered up the ball. He went by the name of Gary Pratt, and was about to live out the highlight of his career. Seeing Ponting dashing for his life, he leapt into action. He threw straight for the wicket, and smashed the bails from the stumps while Ponting was still an outstretched bat from the refuge of the crease.

Ponting's emotions in the aftermath of his run out came in three distinct stages. In the split second after he'd seen his bails go flying, there was ice-cold shock. When he turned to see who had thrown the fatal ball, there was a creeping sense of confusion and anger. Then, as he left the field, there was boiling, bubbling fury, inspired by the fact that he had not a fucking clue who his vanquisher was.

Gary Pratt was not an England regular, see. He wasn't even a regular at county level, and had failed to make a single first-class appearance that year. Of all the protagonists of the 2005 Ashes series, he was one of the most minor. He was nothing more than a substitute fielder and, as far as Ponting was concerned, he shouldn't even have been on the pitch.

Ponting's grievance stemmed from the fact that, prior to the start of the series, Australia had identified a pattern in England's use of substitutes. Their opponents had, for the past few months, been using substitute fielders not only as replacements for injured players, but also as tactical pawns. Temporary substitutions for the likes of Steve Harmison, Matthew Hoggard, Flintoff and so on would give England's bowlers a chance to rest up, consult with their coaches and refresh themselves at convenient points, before they returned to the field and resumed their duties. While there was no rule against this, Ponting and his teammates saw it as an infringement on the spirit of the game. Before the First Test, he had gone as far as to mention his concerns to the match referee.

When he saw that he had been run out by an unfamiliar substitute, Ponting lost it. He directed a barrage of abuse at those nearest to him, before trudging up to the pavilion, muttering under his breath. When he arrived, he caught sight of England coach Duncan Fletcher on the balcony. In an outburst that some might argue was itself 'not cricket', he fired off a verbal volley of obscenities that left the nearest spectators looking, well, a bit traumatised.

This was not an edifying moment for Ponting. Already unpopular for his thorny air of superiority when it came to England – not to mention his relentless batting displays – he would be fined 75% of his match fee for his paroxysm of rage. More importantly, his anger in this case was anything but righteous. Gary Pratt had, in fact, been on the field in the place of Simon Jones, who had been taken to hospital with an ankle injury which would end his participation in Test cricket for good. While England's use of substitutes may have been controversial, in this case the swap was necessary and entirely legitimate.

Even when he looks back on that run out, Ponting rarely admits that he was wrong about Pratt's presence. Australia's talisman had been an antagonist to England before, but this took him to another level. He was roundly booed for the rest of the series, which England went on to win for the first time since the late eighties. The turning point was their narrow victory in the Fourth Test, which could have been so different without the contribution of Gary Pratt.

Before the 2005 Ashes series began, Ponting did at least show a certain wariness of England. Having held the treasured urn for 18 consecutive years at that point, Australia's cricketing community was still largely dismissive. Fast bowler and fellow antagonist Glenn McGrath suggested that the series could be a whitewash in the months leading up to the contest, while most Australian pundits were confident of victory. Ponting struck a more measured note, however, admitting in a pre-series press conference that "England have a bit of a winning habit and winning culture, which they haven't had for a while."

When it came to damning with faint praise, nobody did it better than Ponting. England had been resurgent in the years previous, rising from fifth place in the world rankings to a very respectable second. For Ponting, that represented "a bit of a winning habit" which, lest anyone forget, England had been lacking for well over a decade and a half. Nobody could have mistaken his tone of condescension, even in what was ostensibly a compliment.

The thing is, much like the rest of his countrymen, Ponting was not quite wary enough. He could nod to the idea of England's improvement, but he couldn't bring himself to face the uncomfortable truth. Duncan Fletcher's side were now ready to rival the old enemy, and the balance of cricketing power had subtly shifted. The era of crushing Australian dominance was over, and there was more than "a bit of a winning habit" about their foes.

Though Ponting's snarling exit from the Fourth Test sealed his status as the villain of the piece, there had been bad blood between him and the England team since long before he was run out by Gary Pratt. Here was a man who had so often frustrated his opponents at the crease, captaining his first series on English soil. Ponting had played a vital role in Australia's 4-1 triumph in the 2002/03 series, racking up several centuries as Nasser Hussain's side were taken to pieces in the Land Down Under. He was cool, collected and unflinchingly combative, while his sledging was known to be as snide as it was fierce.

If Ponting needed a reminder of his opponents' resentment, it came from the arm of Steve Harmison in the First Test. England were pumped up for the occasion after months and months of Australian mind games and – despite the fact that they would go on to lose the series opener – their aggressive approach marked a change in attitude. England were ready to make things personal, an approach which Ponting had never had a problem with. That's where Harmison stepped in, and gave his opponent something to think about.

Harmison started the Test in bellicose fashion, hitting Justin Langer with a nasty bouncer on the elbow early on. The Australians were somewhat shaken, until Ponting came in to steady the line. When Harmison spotted their captain coming out to bat, he felt the fire of acrimony burning in his belly. Not long after he'd taken his place at the wicket, Harmison smashed Ponting on the helmet with a wicked bouncer, which left a bright red gash on his cheek.

While Harmison had gone too far in his belligerence, Ponting had been reminded of what England thought of him in no uncertain terms. In this, perhaps the greatest Ashes series of all time, he was England's cricketing nemesis. In this, the hardest-fought of all matches, he was going to get as good as he gave.

"You fucking, cheating cunts."

Ricky Ponting, having been run out by Gary Pratt.

@W_F_Magee