In his recently published Ashes diaries, the fast bowler relives his rip-roaring comeback, when England won the Edgbaston Test in 2015
Steven Finn27-Nov-2025I stood at the top of my mark at Edgbaston and took a deep breath. After 745 days away, I was about to bowl my first ball back in Test cricket and could feel my body fizzing with nervous energy. I had gone through my routine, bowling three practice balls to the fielder at mid-off. Steve Smith, fresh from his double-hundred in Australia’s series-squaring win at Lord’s and No. 1 in the ICC’s batting rankings, stood waiting at the far end, surveying the field.I took a couple of seconds longer than I usually would to compose myself, and looked at the hard, new Dukes ball in my hand. I had a choice to make: should I bowl wobble-seam, so that I could control the line and ease my way back into Test cricket? Or should I commit to the work I had been doing on my outswinger, hold the ball seam up and try to swing it away from Smith’s outside edge? Mitchell Johnson’s words from the SCG changing rooms were in the back of my mind: trust that all of the work you’re doing is enough. I made my decision and ran in, feeling the snap of the seam off my fingertips as I committed to the outswinger.Related
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Smith left the ball alone outside off stump as it moved away from him, and I had done it: I was back playing Test cricket, back in the battle of an Ashes series, and back holding my own against the best players in the world. It was only one ball, but it reinforced that I could do this. I felt a weight lifted off my shoulders.Conditions at Edgbaston that morning were perfect for bowling: gloomy skies, slightly muggy, and plenty of life in the pitch for our seamers to exploit. Jimmy Anderson bowled brilliantly with the new ball, trapping David Warner lbw and beating the bat several times, and I was raring to go in the field. I could feel the nervous energy running through my body.It was good captaincy from Alastair Cook to bring me into the attack after only seven overs, recognising that I wanted to get into the battle as quickly as possible to settle those nerves. Smith defended my second ball into the off side, then punched my third towards mid-on. Three balls bowled, no runs conceded. Most importantly, I felt free. You’re acutely aware of the crowd when you’re out in the middle but you have tunnel vision. You’re solely focused on the 22 yards of the pitch, and your mind blanks out the noise around you. Finding this headspace is imperative for you to concentrate, and to stay calm – and I was there.The fourth ball swung away late, beating the outside edge as Smith shuffled across his stumps and looked to drive me through the off side. I was on top, and reinforced to myself that I had made the right choice in holding the ball seam up and trying to swing it away from Smith’s outside edge.We’d had endless discussions about how to bowl to Smith, which could easily have clouded my mind. He was a unique player, standing a long way across his stumps and whipping everything through midwicket with a strong bottom hand, which meant that people threw all sorts of unusual plans out there. Should we come wide on the crease, looking to bowl very wide outside his off stump? It was even suggested we could go around the wicket to him and angle every ball across him. But I resisted the temptation to get funky as it was the start of the innings and told myself to keep trying to bowl my best ball: rather than getting drawn into his potential weaknesses, I wanted to back my own strengths, and to be the best version of myself. I knew that my best ball would trouble the best players in the world, and my fourth ball only reinforced that.My fifth ball brought me back to earth: I bowled a floaty half-volley, which Smith leaned into and crunched through cover for four. S**t. Maybe I wasn’t in quite as much control as I thought I was. Doubts crept in. Was I still good enough? Did I deserve to be here? I turned and walked back to my mark and told myself, “You’ve got this.” I just had to trust my process, trust the work I had been doing, and believe that my best ball was good enough.I had bowled well in county cricket, and had dismissed top players like Virat Kohli in ODIs. I’d jumped through every hoop I had put there for myself to get back to this point. This was a different level, but the fundamentals were the same: if I could bowl my outswinger at decent pace and land it in a good area, around fourth stump, it was good enough to get anyone in the world out – even Smith. I just needed to drag my length back a touch.I ran in hard, solely focused on that. I angled the ball in towards Smith’s off stump, hit that perfect length and found just enough movement away for the ball to kiss his outside edge. Time seemed to slow down as the ball skewed off his bat, veering past Jos Buttler’s right glove and dropping down towards Cooky’s feet as he stood waiting at first slip. He crouched down to his left, keeping his hands low, and clung on to the ball. Smith, caught Cook bowled Finn, 7.Seven DialsI was back. I celebrated like I had never done before, jumping around with my fist clenched and roaring as my team-mates mobbed me. All the s**t I’d been through over the last two years, all the tears that I’d cried in Australia, and all the hard work that I’d put myself through came spilling out of me.I never planned my celebrations – I would usually wag my finger, or wheel away Alan Shearer-style with my arm in the air – but this was a pure release of the pent-up emotions that I’d left bubbling away inside of me. It was vindication for every hour of training I had done since getting home from Australia at the start of 2014, and a “f**k you” to everyone who had written me off. The fact it was Smith added to it. I hadn’t just knocked over a tailender: I had nicked off the best batsman in the world, who had scored 215 against us in the second Test, in my first over back. After being hit for four the previous ball, the sense of relief was overwhelming.
