James Anderson Throws His Bat in Frustration — Then Gets Out

James Anderson is England's greatest ever fast bowler — 700-plus Test wickets, a swing-bowling repertoire that ranked among the finest in the history of the game, and a longevity that defied physiological logic. He began taking wickets in Tests in 2003 and was still doing it in his 40s. His ability to move a cricket ball in air and off the pitch was genuinely artistic, the kind of sustained excellence that earns the word "mastery" without irony.

His batting, however, occupied a parallel universe where the concept of technique did not apply. Anderson's batting average for most of his career was in the low single figures. His stance varied from innings to innings, as if he were trying different approaches in the hope that one of them might accidentally work. His grip was unorthodox. His footwork was creative in ways no batting coach would endorse. He batted like a man who had agreed to bat only under extreme protest and was making sure everyone knew it.

The 2013 Ashes in Australia produced Anderson batting conditions of maximum difficulty: Mitchell Johnson bowling at terrifying pace on fast Australian pitches against an England number 11 who brought to his batting the same dedication he brought to his laundry — technically necessary, but not something he dwelt on.

England arrived in Australia for the 2013-14 Ashes as defending champions who had won back-to-back series against Australia. Mitchell Johnson had been bowling inconsistently for a couple of years and was widely considered manageable. England's camp was quietly confident. This confidence would not survive contact with the Gabba.

Johnson came out of the blocks bowling at 150 km/h with extreme hostility, swinging the ball late and directed at the body. England's batsmen, built for English conditions, found Australian pace and bounce deeply uncomfortable. By the time Anderson walked in to bat, the situation was usually dire — and Johnson was usually still bowling, having picked up most of the recognised batsmen and developed a specific appetite for Anderson in particular.

The encounters between Johnson at full pace and Anderson at full confusion became one of the series' sub-narratives. Anderson was expected to survive long enough for a draw or see out the day; he was not expected to bat with any technical competence, and he did not disappoint on that second count. His attempts to deal with Johnson's thunderbolts became required viewing for the wrong reasons.

James Anderson was arguably the greatest fast bowler England ever produced. He was also, with 100% certainty, one of the worst batsmen to ever play Test cricket. His batting average hovered near single figures for most of his career, and his time at the crease was invariably brief and entertaining — brief because he couldn't bat, and entertaining because his attempts to bat were genuinely, consistently hilarious.

Anderson's batting highlights (if you can call them that) included wild swings that missed by feet, textbook forward defensives that somehow resulted in him being bowled through the gate, and an array of frustrated bat-throwing moments when he was dismissed in ways that only a true number 11 could manage. His batting stance alone was comedy gold — he looked like a man who had been handed a bat five minutes earlier and wasn't entirely sure which end to hold. His grip suggested someone who had studied batting from a poorly written instruction manual.

The Adelaide Ashes Test of 2013 produced a particularly memorable Anderson batting moment during England's capitulation. Australia's Mitchell Johnson was bowling at terrifying pace — genuine 150 km/h thunderbolts — and Anderson's attempts to survive were equal parts brave and hilarious. His technique against genuine pace was essentially "close eyes, push bat forward, hope for the best," and the results were predictably catastrophic. Johnson bowled balls that Anderson's bat was approximately three seconds late for.

Despite all this, Anderson batted in 269 Test innings — meaning the cricketing world got 269 chances to watch cricket's greatest number 11 comedy show. Every single one was a performance, and the audience was always entertained, even if Anderson himself rarely was.

“I'm not the best batsman, but I always try to contribute. Sometimes the ball just doesn't go where I intend.”

“When Jimmy comes in to bat, I stop worrying about wickets and start worrying about the ambulance.”

“That bat throw tells you everything about him. He cares even about the things he can't do. That's actually admirable.”

“269 Test innings. Someone had to keep picking him at 11. That someone was a brave man.”

England lost the 2013-14 Ashes 5-0, their heaviest series defeat in Australia for decades. Anderson's batting played a proportionally small role in this, given that he barely batted — but his batting adventures were among the few moments of levity in an otherwise grim tour for England supporters.

The bat-throw moment circulated extensively. It captured something essential about Anderson as a batsman: a man who genuinely wanted to contribute and was genuinely frustrated when he couldn't — despite the fact that contributing with the bat was nobody's reasonable expectation of him. The frustration was endearing rather than irritating. It suggested he cared even about the parts of cricket he was manifestly unable to do.

Anderson eventually developed a reputation as the best number 11 in England and arguably the best number 11 in the world, which set the bar at approximately "occasionally stays in for useful partnerships." He met and usually slightly exceeded that bar, which given his technical ability with the bat was a minor miracle of determination.