Australia had appeared to be cruising at 3/291, controlling the tempo with a well-set Steve Smith and a confident Cameron Green picking off runs freely. England’s bowlers had struggled to contain the pair, and Carse in particular had come under fire as both men repeatedly stepped away to carve him through the off side. Green had successfully used the tactic several times, creating space and dictating terms against the seamer.
But cricket has a way of punishing overconfidence, and Green’s attempt to manufacture room one time too many resulted in a moment that commentators labelled nothing short of “baffling.”
Green backed away dramatically—more than a metre from his stumps—and this time Carse followed him. The delivery speared in and crashed into the timber, ending Green’s innings on 45 from 57 balls and triggering a wave of disbelief in the commentary box.
“He was almost off the pitch,” Mark Waugh exclaimed, clearly taken aback by the shot selection in such a crucial period of play.
David Warner did not hold back either, offering perhaps the bluntest assessment of the all-rounder’s decision making.
“It’s baffling, you’re six-and-a-half foot tall, it’s ridiculous to keep moving around like that and playing white-ball style cricket,” Warner said.
“But when you’re so far away from your stumps, if he does throw at the stumps you’re not going to be able to reach it, which was his downfall.
“Every single ball, if you showed the bowler back, anyone with half a brain would go at the stumps.”
For a moment, Green’s dismissal felt like a one-off misjudgment—costly, but manageable. Australia still trailed by just 43 runs, and Smith looked unflustered on 61, accumulating calmly and controlling the innings with trademark composure.
But what followed only three balls later transformed the over into one of the most impactful passages of play seen in recent Ashes contests.
<blockquote class="twitter-tweet"><p lang="en" dir="ltr">Turns out there are two teams in this series capable of playing dumb cricket...</p>— Lawrence Booth (@BoothCricket) <a href="https://twitter.com/BoothCricket/status/1996885964313317411?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">December 5, 2025</a></blockquote> <script async src="https://platform.twitter.com/widgets.js" charset="utf-8"></script>
Smith pulled a regulation short ball toward the boundary, seemingly destined to race away for four. Instead, Will Jacks launched himself to the right in a breathtaking moment of athletic brilliance. Full stretch, horizontal, and tearing across the turf, he clung onto the pink ball with one clean motion. As he rose with a raised finger, teammates swarmed him in celebration.
It was the kind of catch that redefines a session—and potentially a match.
“England, the door is open and they are walking through it,” Adam Gilchrist said as the Gabba crowd tried to process the sudden reversal.
Australia had gone from complete control to visible tension in minutes. Smith’s wicket—after a composed and valuable 61—left the middle order exposed under lights, with Alex Carey and Josh Inglis suddenly burdened with the task of rebuilding.
Jacks’ moment of brilliance seemed to energise the entire English side. Even Ben Duckett nearly added to the chaos during the same over, putting down a sharp chance off Carey that would have deepened an already shocking collapse.
“It’s been a big ten minutes, a real change in direction for this match,” Gilchrist added, summing up the drama with a sense of disbelief.
“It was all one way traffic up until this over from Brydon Carse.”
Within the space of six balls, the scoreboard had morphed from a dominant 3/290 to a precarious 5/292.
When David Warner was asked post-session whether he could believe the collapse he had just witnessed, the former opener offered a brutally honest assessment of Australia’s sporadic vulnerability.
“I absolutely cannot, but Australia do always let the opposition in with some collapses,” he said.
“What we have just seen there, a hell of a catch.”
Mark Waugh echoed the sentiment, suggesting the Australians may have dropped their guard at exactly the wrong time.
“I think they may have been lulled into a false sense of security,” Waugh said.
“At 3-291 England were down and out, and maybe the Australians just relaxed and now there are two new batsmen in the middle.”
The timing of the collapse could not have been worse. Under lights, with a new pink ball and England surging with fresh momentum, Carey and Inglis were forced to steady a suddenly spiralling innings. Australia had been on the verge of taking a lead, dictating the pace, and applying pressure back on England. Instead, they were left scrambling to halt the bleeding.
Carse’s over will be dissected for days. Green’s dismissal may be held up as the tactical misstep that opened the door, but Jacks’ catch was the emotional dagger—an emphatic moment that lit up the English camp and electrified a contest that had seemed to be slipping away.
In the broader context of the Test, the momentum swing is enormous. Ashes cricket thrives on pressure moments, and England found one out of nowhere. What had been drifting into a predictable grind suddenly erupted into theatre—and perhaps altered the outcome of the match entirely.
For Australia, the challenge now lies in responding with resilience rather than allowing the moment to define the Test. For England, it is proof that persistence, even through long sessions of toil, can be rewarded spectacularly.
And for Brydon Carse, it will go down as one of the most influential overs of his career—one that changed the tone, tempo, and trajectory of the second Ashes Test.
