A lot has been made of the origins of the Ashes in the lead up to the 2023 series, and in particular the lead up to the second test at Lord’s where the famous Ashes urn is housed. The story keeps being retold about the obituary that was written tongue-in-cheek back in 1882 mocking the death of English cricket and leading to the ashes of a bail being presented in to the now-famous urn.

Fast forward 140 odd years to a totally different world. A world where money dominates events, and competition even in a sporting context has become win-at-all-costs.

Nothing exemplifies this greater than Premier League football where it’s considered a bargain to buy a defender for £40 million. Many players, agents and those that run the game are millionaires. The difference between winning and losing and the resulting riches that come with or without that can be the difference between a club existing or not.

It’s little wonder in this context that players are taught to do whatever it takes. To bend every rule available. To roll around like they’ve been shot in the leg in order to get an opposition player punished in case that gives their side a slight advantage. To dive. To feign. To master the dark arts. Most people I speak to despise these practices (turning a blind eye when their own team does it). These are considered by most the things that turn an otherwise beautiful game quite ugly.

I have myself tried on occasion to give my following of the game up because of the rise of these practices. I’ve always failed though, usually because the artistry shown by players like Ronaldinho or Messi have always managed to eclipse any drawback and suck me back in when I’ve been at my most determined to leave. I have made peace now with the fact that while high art remains in the game I’ll always be entertained by it even though it’s tainted in so many other areas.

Snooker is a sport itself going through an identity crisis at the moment and is another of my favourites. Nothing is more magic than watching a player like Ronnie O’Sullivan perform at the peak of his powers. Snooker, like cricket, is blessed with a code of conduct. A spirit of play which all players are expected to uphold, and the vast majority do. Even those who occasionally don’t usually do. For me this aspect of the game is what gives it class. It’s a class that football can only dream to have.

Cricket has it. Or should that read cricket had it? It certainly did have it. The spirit of the game and an unwritten code of conduct are things well known to everyone who has been involved in the game. Even those with no interest in sport at all will most likely have come across the phrase, ‘It’s just not cricket’, to describe something as unfair or dishonest.

Australian cricket, Australian sport in general and Australian culture from my experience of it are ultra competitive. In no bad way and it is what’s often given them the edge over ‘the poms’ in a sporting context. I’ve often longed, certainly prior to the mid-noughties, for English cricket to be played with the winning mentality the Aussies have always used when pulverising us in to oblivion.

To be the best you have to be ultra competitive. Ronnie O’Sullivan isn’t the greatest snooker player of all time just because he’s the most ‘naturally gifted’ (whatever naturally gifted means!) He is able to be ultra competitive whilst adhering to a spirit which says you call a foul on yourself even when the referee, opponent and crowd don’t notice it, even if doing so could be the difference between winning or losing.

Lionel Messi played the vast majority of his career without reverting to the dark arts. He was still one of the most competitive beasts you could find.

Indeed most of the Australian cricketing greats have been more competitive than some can imagine whilst respecting and upholding the great values instilled in to the game over centuries.

What happened yesterday in the fifth day of the second test of the 2023 series between England and Australia at the home of cricket has made me question whether we now have the ultimate cinders. Not ashes of a bail presented in jest but something that represents the true death of a once great form of sport.

While football has been able to prevail despite a distinct lack of class present in almost every match you watch, Test cricket for me cannot do so and is dead without it.

Much has been made in recent years of how Test cricket can live in the modern world with our supposedly short attention spans and the money spent on the less skilful forms of the game. Revolutionary Bazball is seen as the latest phenomenon to keep it alive.

With or without Bazball, Test cricket would always be alive and well in my eyes for as long as its played in a fiercely competitive manner that upholds the spirit of the game.

The best team in the world have so far outclassed the version of Bazball they’ve come up against and would most likely be winning this series 2-0 whether the Bairstow dismissal had occurred or not.

What has killed it for me is not the fact that the world’s best team made a decision that goes against the spirit of the game. It’s the fact that they have towed a line ever since to back that decision up as if they are all subject to a three-line whip.

I understand that in the heat of the moment a decision was made by Pat Cummins. He did not have the benefit of a tea break in the same way MS Dhoni did in 2011 when he withdrew his team’s appeal that had seen England centurion Ian Bell dismissed. Dhoni’s decision was the correct one which showed the class in which this game should be played. But he did have the benefit of the extra thinking time to make the decision thanks to the fact that the incident happened on the stroke of tea.

Cummins and the Australian team didn’t have that fortune. Bairstow’s dismissal was within the rules of the game, outside of the spirit of the game and not in a break of play. I could live with that having happened if the Australians had come out once the dust had settled and acknowledged this and apologised for going against the spirit of the game.

The fact that they not only refuse to do so but keep repeating the line that its within the rules of the game shows they would prefer to win at all costs even if it means killing the game. They’re not daft enough to not realise that what happened was outside of the spirit of the game. Take the spirit away and play only to the letter of the law and we have a completely different game. That’s what this does for me. It creates the ultimate ashes - the burning down of a once great game with values of respect and decency at its core. A new game may exist in its place, but its one I’m not interested in.

Test cricket is now dead and its ultimate ashes lie still smouldering. They could rise once more if Cricket Australia can be bold enough to re-instill the values by admitting their mistake. Be sure to let me know if they do because I’m not sticking around to find out.