What’s so special about the Ashes? Australia’s a different country when it’s on – let me explain

It’s that time of the year again. The footy season is over, and cricket finds its voice in summer for the next four months.

The kids are back again in their backyards pretending to be the next Warne, Lee, McGrath or Ponting in their little 22 yards, with Dad feeding the elder son a few cricket balls while the younger brother waits impatiently for his turn to bat.

The sun is beating down as the day drifts by, and Mum calls over for a drinks break. That’s how cricket has always been a part of every person’s life in Australia. This is how people fall in love with this amazing sport.

Cricket’s always meant something for Australians, and summer just explodes that part of it. It’s not just the scheduled five Test matches that Australia play across the five venues; it’s when they play them, and that happens in the summer.

The season opener usually starts with the fortress in Brisbane, the Gabba, and Australia just has to win it.

The opposition always takes time to get into the series, and the Aussies grab that and win those matches there effortlessly.

Then it moves down to the southern part of the country in Adelaide. Though the event has changed in the last decade, now often a pink-ball Test, the atmosphere is still the same. The twilight there turns cricket into art. When the light fades over Adelaide Oval, it’s probably the most beautiful and scenic cricket venue in the world.

By the time the third Test starts, Australia are usually 2-0 up. The next stop is Perth, once the WACA, now the new Optus Stadium, but the pitch hasn’t forgotten its past. It’s still bouncy, still brutal, still the kind of wicket where visiting batters forget which end of the bat to hold. Australia somehow just know how to win there.

The fourth Test, then, is the most anticipated match of them all, the Boxing Day Test at the MCG. Those days between the third and fourth Tests are a national countdown. Players and fans are preparing for Christmas, the smell of barbecue fills the air, and the talk is all about who will open on Boxing Day.

When your team is already 3-0 up, you can’t wait for that first ball at the G, the roar of the crowd, the sound of leather on willow, the holly decorations around the ground honouring the late Richie Benaud. Usually, by the fourth day, the Aussies wrap it up 4-0, and that’s the perfect ending to another year.

The fifth Test ends in Sydney, at the SCG, the New Year’s Test, or as many call it, the Rainfall Test. No summer goes by without a passing shower. It can be frustrating, denying Australia the clean sweep dream, but the ground still holds magic.

Pat Cummins celebrates getting five wickets in the first Test of the 2021-22 Ashes. (Photo by Chris Hyde/Getty Images)

Some of the greatest moments in Australian Test history live there: Steve Waugh’s last day heroics, and the emotional farewell of Langer, Warne and McGrath together in 2007. The SCG is nostalgia made real, the kind of place where time and memory shake hands.

And that, my friends, is what I call the Ashes in Australia, the five-part epic that defines our summer. A five-nil series yet again this time around? Wouldn’t surprise anyone here.

But the question that always arises is this: what’s so special about the Ashes? Why doesn’t defeating India or South Africa, teams stronger on paper, bring the same joy? The answer’s simple. It’s the Ashes.

Every Australian wants to see England humbled, for their cockiness, for history, for everything this rivalry has meant since the very first ball in 1877.

Over the last year and a half, I’ve tried convincing myself that Australia versus India might be the better Test series, and it probably is, in pure cricketing terms. But it doesn’t feel the same.

The Ashes aren’t about skill alone. They’re about something older and a little irrational. Losing to India hurts. Losing to England scars.

(Hamish Blair/Getty Images)

The Ashes create stars and heroes. Perform well here, and your name is etched forever. Many players from both sides are remembered more for their Ashes heroics than anything they ever did against anyone else. Because this isn’t just a contest, it’s folklore.

In the end, that’s what makes the Ashes more than just another cricket series. It’s a time capsule of who we are and what we love, a blend of heat, hope and hostility that only summer in Australia can create. Every few years, England turn up talking about change, and every few years, the sound of an Aussie appeal drowns them out.

The Ashes remind Australians why Test cricket still matters, why patience and pride still count, and why no victory feels quite as sweet as one against England under the southern sun.

It isn’t just about winning 5-0 or lifting a tiny urn. It’s about defending something older, something personal, the way a nation sees itself through cricket.

So as another Ashes summer rolls in, the beaches will be crowded, the barbecues will sizzle, and somewhere, a kid in the backyard will try to bowl like Warne or bat like Ponting. The cycle continues, as it always has.

Because when the Ashes return, Australia doesn’t just play cricket. It remembers who it is.