MARTIN SAMUEL —

THE Barmy Army have appropriated a Beatles song they use to chirp at Australian captain Steve Smith. It accuses him of cheating, to the tune of With A Little Help From My Friends.

At close of play yesterday, ‘When I’m 64’ would have been more appropriate. That was Smith’s overnight score, except by the time he at last stopped fidgeting at the crease and vacated the middle, the singing had all but died down. Smith’s innings had silenced his detractors and restored Australian confidence.

When Smith is on this form, no team can claim to have the advantage in a Test match until they have seen the back of him. And England were not at all close to doing that on day two.

Geoff Boycott, who knows a thing or two about hanging around and annoying the hell out of everybody, said Smith reminded him of Rahul Dravid, the Indian batsman famously known as The Wall. Once Dravid was in, dynamite couldn’t get him out and Smith gave off a similar aura yesterday.

Australia were reeling at 76 for four, but Smith and Shaun Marsh added 89 for the fifth wicket to leave the game as delicately balanced as it has been since the very first session. A couple of quick wickets and England will be in the ascendancy again; but this Australian partnership does not appear as prone to sudden collapse as England’s middle order. Well, certainly, Smith doesn’t.

Given his unconventional style he must have the finest hand-eye co-ordination of any batsman in the world right now, and the moment he got set the complexion of the match changed. Australia are still 137 runs short of England’s first-innings total but this Test has so far lacked a century-maker, and Smith appears in the mood to be the first.

James Vince’s run- out on 83 while batting quite superbly looks more significant with each passing moment. Cheap wickets could well decide a very close game.

Smith is a remarkable athlete. If he was a middle-distance runner there would be all sorts of rumours, such is his level of improvement.

In 2010, he came into the Australian team as a leg spinner who batted at No 8; five years later he was acknowledged as the finest Test batsman in the world and, two years on, he draws comparisons to Sir Donald Bradman.

Given his age, 28, and with 20 Test centuries to his name already, Smith still has time to overtake Bradman’s mark of 29.

He is averaging over 60 in Test cricket, which the great Bill Lawry described as ‘Bradman-like’ given modern conditions.

Certainly yesterday’s knock had peerless command, perfectly judged, offering no encouragement to England, and settling Australian nerves at a time when the Test appeared to be getting away from them.

Australia’s record at The Gabba is the stuff of legend — no losses since 1988 — but equally with such numbers comes expectation.

Draws here hurt Australia’s psyche and of the eight Brisbane Tests that have not been won in 29 years, Australia have failed to go on and win the series on six occasions.

Australia take any form of reverse at The Gabba badly, so when Smith arrived at 30 for two, there was an unfamiliar air of trepidation around the arena. Another two wickets surrendered and Australia were staring at a full-blown crisis.

That is what made Smith’s 64 — ably supported by 44 from Marsh — so impressive. He batted without fear, but also without offering England so much as a scrap. On a turning pitch — unheard of in Brisbane on day two — Moeen Ali had looked dangerous, but not against Smith. Ali stopped beating the bat, and England began to run out of ideas.

BY THE close, the tourists looked as if they needed the rest, even if Stuart Broad made a show of bouncing back to his mark as if with energy to spare. It was a good act, but fooled no one.

Both sides will have been happy to return fresh today, but it was first blood to Smith in the battle of the captains. Joe Root’s tactics had been perfect until his opposite number arrived in the middle. By the end, however, he was running out of ideas and no doubt anxious to regroup.

This is almost a foreign surface at The Gabba and the locals are blaming singer Adele. Having predicted a track that will strike fear into the hearts of Englishmen, it has been marked only by its docility. No swing, no pace.

On the last tour, Brad Haddin was collecting Mitchell Johnson’s short stuff high over his head, and still rising. This time, Australia’s much-vaunted pace attack, the one we were warned smells the blood of Englishmen, was tame.

The odd one moved, and England’s nerve has never been great under a modicum of pressure here, but this was nothing like the ordeal promised. England’s score is probably around 50 under par, and if Smith keeps going, it would not be a surprise if they trail.

Pat Cummins and Mitchell Starc, the quickest bowlers here, still gamely tried to dig them in, but invariably wicketkeeper Tim Paine collected the ball on its way down. It was dying by the time it reached the keeper — and Australia’s blowhards died a little each time that happened, too.

Adele is responsible, apparently. It was her concert back in May that it is claimed has affected this surface.

At the time all the controversy was about how to get 60,000 concert-goers away from the venue by bus. The logistical scandal has paled into insignificance, however, beside this new one: English singer stuffs the Gabbatoir.

Adele succeeds where hundreds of English batsmen have failed. Maybe the Barmies should sing her songs instead.