Test cricket at its best: The result didn't go their way but the Barmy Army was in fine voice at the Gabba. Credit:AAP

In its own perverse way, these mind-numbing campaigns have highlighted the problem with cricket in this country for the past few years: an unnerving desire to turn the grand old game of bat and ball into a promotional gimmick to drag young eyeballs, maybe even tired old eyeballs, to a day of Test cricket. Pools in the stands, day-night matches with pink balls, commentary from the radio boxes in which old war stories on the field and the bar are preferred over the score at the end of the over, chicken buckets beaten like a drum before being placed on your head … Madness.

And then, almost like it had enough of watching all this gibber from afar, the game of cricket threw something back at us: a gripping Ashes Test match played in the traditional and time-honoured manner of occupying the crease, holding up an end, holding your nerve and waiting to see which set of 11 men blinked first. Heading into day four, eyes were wide open. It was anyone's match before England shut their eyes and rolled over for 195 in their second innings, making it easy work for Dave Warner and Cameron Bancroft to chase down the target.

Australian captain Steve Smith's 141 runs from 326 balls will go down, by his own admission, as one of his greatest knocks – and probably his slowest. Shaun Marsh has had more chances at this level than Josh Dugan's had tattoos and while his cheap dismissal on day three means he hasn't yet justified his recall he did show the value of a No.6 who can – egads! – stick around and not get out as the skipper makes a match-defining ton.

Call me an old-fashioned slob on the couch but this is exactly what cricket needs: because it means something. It's absorbing and measured and its digs its claws in and prevents you from walking away. Give me slow-cooked chicken that's been simmering away in a spicy broth for 12 hours than a dirty chicken leg that's been fried down to a tiny little flap of skin before being hurled through your car window by the drive-thru attendant.