If there was ever any lingering doubt about Will Jacks’ place in this England Test side, it evaporated under the harsh Adelaide sun. Jacks has become less a role and more a symptom — a living indicator of when England’s plans have gone awry.
There is an unspoken rule that seems to apply. When Will Jacks is on screen, England are usually in trouble. If he is bowling, something has already gone wrong. If he is batting, the problems probably started earlier. And while it’s true that not seeing him doesn’t guarantee success, it at least leaves room for hope — the idea that others are doing their jobs and Jacks won’t be required as a last resort.
Adelaide offered no such comfort. Day three of the third Test saw England’s improvised spin solution thrust into a frontline role, as Australia asserted control with ruthless clarity. High-skill, high-pressure Test cricket — the kind built on years of planning and specialist excellence — was on full display. England, by contrast, looked like a side scrambling for cover.
The sight was often uncomfortable. Soon after tea, Jacks delivered an over so erratic it bordered on parody: dragged-down short balls, leg-side half-volleys and long hops arriving with alarming regularity. For a stretch, it looked less like a plan and more like damage limitation — bowling short so often that it resembled an act of desperation rather than strategy.
He did eventually pick up a wicket, tempting Usman Khawaja into a loose cut. But even that moment felt like a win for Australia. The contrast with Nathan Lyon — methodical, relentless, forged by years of trust and investment — could not have been starker. Day three in Adelaide, heat shimmering, Ashes slipping away. England’s spin answer was an all-rounder pressed into specialist duty.
None of this is an indictment of Jacks the cricketer. He is immensely talented. Few players can boast both a Test five-wicket haul and an IPL century. With the right preparation, he could bat comfortably in the top five. He has the tools, the athleticism, and the temperament. What he doesn’t have is the sustained grounding to be England’s primary off-spinner in an Ashes Test.
That is where England’s planning collapses. Jacks has been turned into a safety net — picked not to excel at one thing, but to patch holes elsewhere. He is the contingency plan for when batting looks thin or bowling depth feels fragile. It’s the cricketing equivalent of using a finely tuned racing bike as a clothes rack: functional, perhaps, but a waste of what it was built to do.
So Jacks persevered through the afternoon, arm looping high, trying to extract control and drift that can only come with repetition at the highest level. Travis Head, in full command, feasted on anything short and calmly dispatched the fuller offerings into the stands. It was not malice, just inevitability.
As England shuffled through increasingly elaborate field settings and seamers laboured on, the broader truth became clear. Australia have better bowlers — specialists honed for these conditions, trusted to do their jobs. Everything else, the noise, the theories, the talk of intent, flows from that simple advantage.
England have tried this before — the utility cricketer pressed into service. But Jacks represents a more jarring contradiction. This was supposed to be Shoaib Bashir’s role. Instead, Bashir has drifted into the margins, a curious figure on tour, present but unused. Once the project pick, now sidelined when the stakes rose.
Bashir’s journey itself feels uneasy. Fast-tracked, exposed early, and then quietly withdrawn when the gamble faltered. He had shown promise — arriving in India with barely any first-class experience and coping admirably at first. What followed was the natural plateau every young spinner encounters. The difference is that Bashir has been asked to learn under the harshest public scrutiny, with little protection or continuity.
This is not solely the fault of the current leadership. England’s red-ball system has struggled for years to produce spinners ready for this level — a consequence of conditions, scheduling, and long-term neglect. But the irony is sharp: a regime that champions boldness and clarity has stumbled into caution when pressure mounted.
By stumps, Jacks — ever willing, ever adaptable — had figures that told their own story. He will likely fade from the central narrative of this Test, remembered only as a footnote. Yet his presence speaks volumes. It reflects muddled planning, the absence of specialist depth, and a system forced into improvisation at the worst possible moment.
In that sense, Will Jacks was never really the problem. He was the signal.
