Hope and resistance

Hope can be a dastardly sort of thing. Last Saturday, if you had said to a Pakistani, or one who still cared after Perth, that Pakistan would set Australia a tricky fourth-innings total to chase, he would have laughed in your face. But yesterday morning, when Danish Kaneria prised out Adam Gilchrist, there was hope, and even dreams of an upset. At the end of the day, Pakistan's admirable resistance having been chipped away, hope had left without leaving a number. Don't call me, I'll call you. The fear, somehow more tangible than hope, was that they would be wiped out the next day, had taken its place.

Pakistan were competitive for considerable parts of the game, and that should be recognised, but with a top order still more in synch with the demands of a one-dayer rather than a Test, and a bowling attack heavily reliant on what is quickly becoming a modern-day, rougher-round-the-edges version of Imran Khan and Abdul Qadir, it was always going to be a struggle. When they crumbled yesterday, stung by Australia's knockout blow, they still managed to get up today on wobbly knees, propped up by the bravery of Shoaib Malik and the enticing evolution of Kaneria later, and put up brief and eventually futile resistance. But at least it was resistance.

Kaneria and Shoaib Akhtar, in particular, provided some. Not many legspinners - Anil Kumble is as an exceptional exception - can play against Shane Warne and not come off looking like Ian Salisbury. He troubled almost every batsman he bowled to and given that the line-up is as strong and deep as this Australian one, that is no mean feat. He experimented, he made mistakes, he out-thought some very good batsmen and above all, he never stopped coming. Even today, with a meagre total to play with, he bowled for a wicket every ball, and on occasions was desperately unlucky not to claim one.

Pakistan also resisted, to an extent, the other legspinner on display. Warne threatened - like Australia, he always will - but that sense of inevitability about his bowling, that he will always pick up wickets when playing against Pakistan was diluted. Given that he had taken 27 in the last three-Test series between these two sides, that represents progress. Youhana's handling of Warne in particular set the tone - confident, cheeky, dominant and at times dismissive, it was the antithesis of how Pakistan's batsmen have traditionally played him over the years.

But what do you really draw from this contest? The result was never really in doubt; even when Pakistan were in control at various stages, there remained a nagging, lingering sense that one moment, one session would see Australia wrest the initiative. Yousuf Youhana's stumping on the first day, and Jason Gillespie's resistance between lunch and tea on the third provided the most crucial pivots, although not the only ones here.

Over the last few years Australia has done just this to every team, at every location, with chilling efficiency. Last week after Perth, there was increasing concern among neutrals about the growing gulf between Australia and the rest of the cricket world. Pakistan were much more committed here, and generally gave a better account of themselves. Yet they still lost by nine wickets inside four days - a comprehensive margin, if not quite as statistically humiliating as Perth.

Sri Lanka and India both fought harder than Pakistan did earlier this year, yet they were both conquered with impressive authority. New Zealand too are nobody's whipping boys but Australia's.

Can we ever hope that Australia's dominance will come to an end, bearing in mind that all 11 Pakistanis on display today have stood up to be counted at various stages through this year? That just once, when their authority is questioned, they will not provide the most comprehensive retort? Should the rest of the cricket world simply take the path of least resistance, the most inert one, which says that dominance is a cyclical phenomenon and that time will, eventually, take its toll? That there will come a time soon when the core of this vintage, relentless bowling attack and some of the batting line-up - one in which a Martyn, Langer, Hayden, Ponting, Gilchrist, Clarke and even a Gillespie can turn a game - will retire? The hope - that fickle and intangible emotion - is that someone, somehow (England, are you listening?) will defeat them soon. The fear - much more real and believable - is that Australia's pre-eminence, until the core of this team succumbs to the ravages of time, is a foregone conclusion.