My dream run came to a grinding halt at Lord’s.

After a whirlwind summer with the national team and a short stint with Deccan, I was picked to go on the Australian tour of England and Ireland, which included a one-off ODI against Ireland, a five-game ODI series against England, and a two-Test series against Pakistan.

Pakistan wasn’t playing any matches on home soil during that period due to security concerns and I was looking forward to adding to the two Tests I’d played in New Zealand. It was a real thrill to tour England with an Australian team despite it not being an Ashes series. It was a proud moment for me and it continued the wave of momentum my career was on at the time.

I always loved playing cricket in England regardless of what level it was at, but to go there and play for Australia was a dream come true. I was reasonably happy with how I was bowling, a five-for in a 78-run win at The Oval was a highlight, but my knee was getting progressively worse throughout the tour.

Even after the troubles I had with it in the back half of 2009, I thought (probably naively) that it would eventually get better. But it started to dawn on me during that tour that this would be something I would need to manage for as long as I played.

We were disappointed to lose the first three games of the series, but we finished strongly to make it 3–2 on the back of the win at The Oval and a 42-run victory in the final match at Lord’s. My knee had been really blowing up after games and Alex had to work overtime to keep me on the pitch.

My knee was sore, but manageable, but that changed when I went down to field off my own bowling late in the game at Lord’s. I felt a sharp pain sear through the side of the knee. Thankfully it was late in the match, but it didn’t take long for Alex to assess me and decide my tour was over.

I played at Lord’s on 3 July 2010 and I was on David Young’s operating table in Melbourne on 8 July. He repaired damage to my lateral meniscus (the cushioning material) and ‘cleaned up’ the joint. He also discovered I’d sustained reasonably significant cartilage damage to the outside compartment of my knee, which was new. He was also concerned about the onset of what he called ‘bone edema’, which basically meant that the two bones of my leg were rubbing up against each other in places where there was no cushioning material, which could start causing further damage.

None of that sounded good to me, but he assured me that I would be able to return to the Australian side after a decent recovery period and with careful management during a rehabilitation program. That part was music to my ears because England was heading to Australia for an Ashes series in November.

I wanted to play in that Ashes series so badly. I was determined to do everything I possibly could to put myself in a position to get picked. It was a challenging time. I’d bowl at training and be okay, but when I stepped up the intensity I hit trouble. My knee would blow up and I’d have to pull back a bit, which was the last thing I wanted to do.

I wore compression tubing on my knee to try to combat the swelling during that period, but after a while I started to feel like it locked the joint up and restricted my movement. I started to have to get it drained—it didn’t happen too often back then—but that was something I struggled to get used to.

There’s nothing too scientific about having fluid drained from your knee (or having the knee ‘aspirated’, as the docs call it); they just stick a bloody big needle in there and pull back on the syringe, which slowly fills up with a really gross yellow goo. I occasionally had it done in the dressing-room and a few of the boys would crowd around to have a look—only the bravest ones stuck around once that syringe started to fill up! It only takes 30 seconds or so and it really hurts, but it feels so much better after. It releases so much pressure.

I was getting regular injections into the knee with something called Synvisc—a substance partly made from chicken combs—which was meant to provide pain relief and act as a sort of artificial lubricant between the bones in my knee. That was effective for a while; but extended use can lead to side effects and that’s exactly what happened with me.

After a course of injections my knee blew up like a balloon. I had the injections on the Friday afternoon of a long weekend, but it got so bad that I had to go and see a doctor on the holiday Monday to get a heap of fluid drained out of it. Not only was my knee huge, it was very, very painful!

It was a difficult time because, although I felt like Alex and David had a strong grasp on what was going on in my knee, there was still an element of trial and error in finding the best way to manage the issue so that I could stay on the field. It didn’t matter what we did as far as I was concerned; if it was legal and there was even the slightest chance that it could help, then I was happy to try all kinds of treatment. I was on the cusp of playing in an Ashes series and there was no way I was going to let my knee stop me.

England had already been on Australian soil for a week when I played my first Sheffield Shield game in my comeback from that surgery in early November. The first Ashes Test started at the Gabba on 25 November so I knew I was up against it to prove my fitness.

I’d spoken with Alex Kountouris extensively in the lead-up to that Ashes series as we tried to plot the best way forward. He was constantly reassuring me that we’d done everything we possibly could, but even he admitted at one point that a leap of faith was required as far as my knee was concerned.

He basically said, ‘If your knee goes—it goes—and we’ll deal with it then.’

Either way, we’d sit down at the end of the Ashes series and work out whether it was going to be possible for me to continue playing Test-match cricket. With the damage I had sustained to the joint, there was a small chance that it could all end very quickly. I could bowl a ball, chip a piece of bone off and go down in a screaming heap and that would pretty much be it. I tried not to dwell on that scenario.

There were times when it didn’t bother me too much and there were others when I’d wake up in the morning and not know how I was going to get through a day in the field, let alone bowl. But once I started to warm up and get some work into it I’d start to feel better.

I’d turned thirty-one by then and I really thought that Ashes series might have been my last chance to prove myself as a Test cricketer. I was determined to give it a really good crack and if that meant that my knee buckled under the strain then so be it. At least I’d know that I gave everything I had to try to fulfil my dream.

The Bulls had a big win over Tassie down at Bellerive and I pushed my case for a spot in the Australian team with 9 wickets for the match. I was stoked with the win and the good bowling figures, but I pulled up a bit sore and missed Queensland’s next match against the Redbacks. I went to see David and he assured me this was normal. But it was enough for the Aussie selectors to rule me out of the first Test.

I was a bit down about it, but determined to bowl well again for the Bulls when they took on Victoria at the MCG. David had treated my knee with platelet-rich plasma (PRP) injections, which made me more comfortable. I managed 6 wickets in a drawn match that took place at the same time Australia and England fought out a draw in the first Test in Brisbane.

I got added to the Australian squad for the second Test in Adelaide on the last day of that Shield match. We were sitting in the dressing-room at the MCG after our match had finished when I got the call. It had been a tough six months since getting sent home from England, but the hard grind of rehab is all worth it when you get a call like that. To play in an Ashes Test in front of my friends and family at my old home ground in Adelaide was a dream come true.

I just sat there with a huge grin on my face. Queensland skipper James Hopes had a pretty good idea what had just happened and he came over and shook my hand. The rest of the boys quickly cottoned on and they were all rapt for me, which was nice.

When I think of the Ashes I think about sitting with Mum, Dad and Gav and watching players like Steve and Mark Waugh, David Boon, Shane Warne, Glenn McGrath—all legends of the game through a golden era of Australian cricket. I just think there is no purer form of the game. It’s fair to say that I arrived at Adelaide Oval on the first day of my first Ashes Test with a spring in my step. My buoyant mood didn’t last long, though.

Ricky Ponting won the toss and we had a bat, but we made a shocking start. Simon Katich, Punter and Michael Clarke were dismissed in quick succession and we were 2–3 after about ten minutes of play.

Mike Hussey and Shane Watson steadied the ship with a partnership of 94, but we were all out for 245 late in the evening session on day one. To my great embarrassment I made a first-ball duck, but more on that later.

The changeover between innings happened so late that we only got 1 over in before stumps. Ricky threw me the ball. I was fired up, as you can imagine, but the significance of opening the bowling for Australia against England at Adelaide Oval wasn’t lost on me. I’d bowled well against Pakistan at my old home ground back in January, but this was something else.

I strayed onto the legs of Andrew Strauss with my first ball and they took a single leg bye, but Alastair Cook was content to defend the over and get into the dressing-room.

Dougie Bollinger, who came into the side for the second Test with me at the expense of Mitch Johnson and Ben Hilfenhaus, struck early when he bowled Strauss in the first over on day two, but it was a rare moment of joy for us. England finished that day at 2–317, and batted into the fourth day before declaring at 5–620 in the morning session.

It was a fairly traditional Adelaide wicket, which was quite batsman-friendly, but as bowlers we didn’t stick to the plans we had in place nearly well enough.

The top order batted well to see us finish the day at 4–238, with rain starting to become a factor; but we faced a big task to bat out the fifth day to salvage a draw.

But Huss went early on the final day and it all went downhill from there.

I went in after Hadds edged one to the keeper off Jimmy Anderson. After getting out first ball in the first innings I was facing a king pair, but that was the last thing on my mind. I was determined to do what I could to keep our rearguard action going.

Of course, it didn’t work out like that. Facing Anderson I left one and it hit me on the pads. Jimmy was absolutely on fire and swinging the ball both ways. I thought that it had hit me quite high so I referred it to DRS (Decision Review System), which showed it was going to hit middle and leg about halfway up—which was embarrassing to say the least. I copped grief from teammates about that referral years later.

Back then we probably didn’t deal with DRS as well as some other teams. We ultimately figured out a more effective approach that included conferring with the non-striker before sending a decision for referral.

I was so angry and disgusted with myself. I absolutely destroyed my bat when I got back into the rooms. I’m not one to have massive temper tantrums as a rule—it’s not really a great look—but I was so pissed off with myself after I got out that I let rip. Unfortunately, it was my beautiful County bat that copped it as I used it like a lumberjack’s axe on the floor!

Mostly I was disappointed that I hadn’t done my bit to help the side save the match. But I was also angry because I wasn’t actually out in the first innings. I was given out LBW, but I hit the ball—smacked it actually. It wasn’t the best shot to try to get off the mark, but I nicked it onto my back pad and the umpire gave me out. Before I could refer it to the third umpire, Brad Haddin had already done it from the non-striker’s end because he’d seen and heard me hit the ball.

All the fielders went up, and as we stood around I heard someone say that he thought I’d nicked it as well. I was feeling safe as we stood around and waited for the decision, but I was absolutely dumbfounded when the call came down that I was still out.

I was fuming as I walked off and my mood wasn’t helped when I got back into the dressing-room and they were showing the mark the ball clearly made on my bat on the television. To make matters worse, it was later explained to us that the reason the third umpire couldn’t see the nick on the replay was because he didn’t have a high-definition television! I was absolutely spewing.

I’m pretty sure I’d never got a golden duck in any form of cricket and to get two in two innings in a Test match against England in front of my family and friends was hugely embarrassing! That disappointment didn’t come close to what I felt for the team, though. With rain forecast, we just couldn’t put together a partnership and went down by an innings and 71 runs before lunch.

I was already in getting a scan on a minor shoulder muscle tear I’d picked up on day three when the storm hit around lunchtime. It bucketed down for the rest of the afternoon and would have certainly saved us had we been able to dig in better.

I’d picked up an injury, but Simon Katich had fared even worse. He was struggling with an Achilles injury going into the match and it got a lot worse on him during that Test. He was really hobbling between wickets and it was shattering when he was ruled out for the rest of the summer. He worked so hard to try to play through it, but the pain just got too much. He was a tough bugger, Kat. I only got to play a handful of games with him, but I really respected the way he went about his cricket.

England hadn’t won a series in Australia for a long time, but we had great respect for them as a team. Even so we had high expectations of our own performances and we didn’t compete at the level required in Adelaide. The Poms played really well, everything seemed to click for them, whereas we struggled to find our rhythm as a group. I thought we planned really well for them.

We had specific plans for all of their batsmen. For example, we knew Alastair Cook and Jonathan Trott were both really strong off their pads, but we didn’t stick to those plans as a bowling attack. Too often we strayed onto their legs and we paid the price. Ricky made it clear what the plan was, but we just continued to bowl too straight.

I have had a bit of success against Cook since that series and it’s only because I’ve heeded that advice and bowled more of a fourth-stump line.

We just didn’t get it right—perhaps it was us being a bit selfish and going for the glory ball on the stumps. I thought I was bowling in the right spot, but looking back on it I was way too straight.

The rooms were pretty sombre after that loss. Representing our country is what we’re about and we felt we’d let a lot of people down with that performance. You can’t dwell on a performance like that though; it’s about pinpointing what went wrong, figuring out how to address that issue, and getting back to work.

That series was a big learning curve for me in terms of media coverage because it was the first time I’d been part of a struggling Australian team. It was the first time I’d picked up the paper and read strong criticism of the team. I accept that criticism comes with poor performances, but some of the stuff that was written about the team, and Ricky in particular, was way off the mark. I felt given what he’d done for Australian cricket over a long period of time that Ricky deserved the benefit of the doubt, but the press went after him mercilessly.

He was the same old Ricky around the team, though. He was hitting the ball really well in the nets and I felt it was only a matter of time before he made some runs. You wouldn’t have thought he was under siege by the media with the way he carried on behind the scenes.

After a massive defeat like that I don’t think many of the bowlers felt confident of keeping their spot in the side. But the skipper was happy enough with how I bowled and I held my spot for the trip to Perth for the third Test.

It’s the lot of the fast bowler really; sometimes you feel like you’re bowling really well and get no reward and other times you feel like you’re bowling rubbish and you’ll take five-for. The key for me is to try to minimise the gap between my best and worst.

Mike Hussey wanted the team to stay together and have a dinner after the Adelaide loss, but most of the boys had already booked flights home because we had a decent break until the Perth Test. He felt it was important that we stick together, but too many guys had travel plans they couldn’t change. I stayed in Adelaide to have dinner with some friends and I actually caught up with him later for a few beers.

Huss taught me a lot about what it means to be a part of the Australian cricket team; he was a player who really set the tone in terms of team culture. I’d respected him from afar long before I’d made it into the Australian team, so to be able to share some time with him was great.

We were keen to get to Perth because its pace and bounce traditionally made it a difficult environment for visiting England teams, while our batsmen generally enjoyed the conditions. But we were in all sorts at 5–69 on the first day after being sent in to bat. Mike Hussey and Brad Haddin both made half-centuries, though, and the tail (excluding me!) wagged and we made it to 268.

Mitch Johnson had come back into the side and top-scored for us with 62. I think this might have boosted his confidence because he produced an inspired spell of bowling in the Poms’ first dig. He hadn’t enjoyed a great start to the series, but the WACA wicket suited him down to the ground. He’d worked really hard in the nets in Adelaide and I felt he was primed for a big showing. He’d had issues with accuracy early in the summer, but his pace was still right up there.

They were getting away from us at 0–78 on the second day and Mitch just turned it on. At one stage he’d taken 4–7 as he ripped through the England top order. Punter hit the nail on the head when he called it ‘one of the all-time great Ashes spells’. Mitch was getting the ball to come back in at the batsman and, with his pace, it made him near unplayable at times. It was a hell of a spell of fast bowling.

When he’s bowling like that it’s important for the bowler at the other end, whoever it is, to be very disciplined with line and length to keep building pressure. If that’s me then I won’t necessarily get the wickets in that scenario, but I will have done my job for the team if I keep the runs down from my end.

Mitch might end up with 5–20 and I might bowl 15 overs for 30 runs, but I’ll be happy that I’ve done my job. It’s the same for all the bowlers; we’re not just plugging away separately at either end … we work together to achieve the team goal. It’s a lot like batting partnerships in that sense.

One day Mitch Johnson or Peter Siddle might get 5 or 6 wickets, but other days it will be me or Ben Hilfenhaus or Dougie Bollinger or Nathan Lyon. We try to impress that on the younger bowlers when they come in: bowling can seem like a pretty solitary pursuit, but to win matches you need a team approach; you need to combine well together as a unit.

We bowled them out for 187 and were better with the bat in our second innings. Shane Watson was unlucky not to make a ton, out for 95, but Mike Hussey fared better to score his second century of the series. I only made one lousy run, but I had the privilege to be out there with Huss when he cracked triple figures.

I’d never been out in the middle when a teammate had made a hundred in a Test. What an experience it was to be out there when the great Mr Cricket himself scored his thirteenth Test ton. I’d seen similar scenes on television so many times, but to be out there and hear the roar of the crowd and share that moment with him was really special. It was a massive innings in the context of a match we absolutely had to win.

We set them a target of 391 and they didn’t get close.

I was a little bit expensive early, which is never ideal, but I always look on that as a bit of a test of character. It’s easy to drop your head and think that it’s just not going to be your day—I’ve certainly been guilty of that in the past—but there are few things more satisfying than digging deep and fighting back with a few wickets.

A five-for in a Test is special for any bowler, but for me to grab 6 wickets in an Ashes Test victory was a proud moment. Matt Prior was my fifth wicket; it bounced a bit on him from just short of a length and Huss took the catch at gully.

It was a great feeling and it was nice to be able to share that with the boys and Huss, in particular, after I’d been there for his big moment. I must admit I made sure I took a moment to soak it up as I held the ball up to the WACA crowd.

It got even better when Steven Finn edged one off my next over to Steve Smith at third slip to give us the win.

Winning a Test match is a bloody hard thing to do. The veteran guys like Ricky and Huss always used to say that we had to celebrate a Test win because you never know when the next one is going to come. I certainly found that to be true and it was great to sit back with the boys in the rooms having squared the series at 1–1.

I’d always wondered what Christmas Day was like for the Australian cricket team given so many of the boys were away from home. I’ve always loved Christmas and I wasn’t sure what to expect heading into the Boxing Day Test, but I was pleasantly surprised. All the boys flew their families in, if they weren’t travelling with them already through Cricket Australia, and Crown Casino put on a great lunch.

There was a training session on the MCG in the morning, which was optional, but most of the boys turned up. It was quite surreal to be out there on that hallowed turf in that marvellous, and empty, stadium a day before it would be filled with 80 or 90,000 fans. It was a very light session and those guys with kids brought them out onto the grass for a muck-around afterwards, which was great.

Back at Crown there was a room set up with a brilliant buffet and a separate room for all the kids to play with toys and video games. It was a really enjoyable day for me and Cherie, but it certainly wasn’t a late one with one of the biggest days on the cricket calendar looming.

The bounce and pace at the WACA is almost unique in world cricket and England didn’t handle the conditions well. Perhaps we should have taken that into account when assessing the win. Maybe we took a little too much confidence from the performance … because they absolutely brained us in Melbourne.

Having sent us in, England bowled us out for an embarrassing 98. Then they set about retaining the Ashes with the bat. Cook and Strauss put on 159 for the first wicket before both were dismissed in quick succession, but then Trott and Pietersen pushed the score past 250.

I was part of a controversial incident a few overs after lunch on the second day when I bowled to KP and Brad Haddin appealed loudly for a catch. I didn’t go up initially because I didn’t hear anything, but Hadds was adamant, so Ricky sent it to review.

There was a little scratch on Hot Spot, but it was about 10 cm away from where the ball passed the bat, so umpire Aleem Dar’s initial call of ‘not out’ stood.

Ricky had broken a bone in the little finger on his left hand over in Perth, which would have sidelined most players, but he was as tough as they come and there was no way he was missing a Boxing Day Test with the Ashes on the line.

I think the frustration and pressure of the summer boiled over for Punter a bit at that point—he’s since admitted as much—but we were all frustrated with the DRS by then. It had been so inconsistent—for both teams—and we just wanted a bit more consistency. KP wandered over and said that he’d hit it, even though he thought he hadn’t, just to stir the pot a bit.

Punter pushed his case for a while with both umpires, to the point he was fined 40 per cent of his match fee. I felt bad that we’d allowed ourselves to even be in that position to start with.

The Poms went on to make 513, but I didn’t see out the innings.

I had a bit of soreness in my left ankle going into the Test, but I’d recently gone from boots to lower-cut shoes, so I put it down to that. I’d trained in them for a couple of days and they felt fine until I started to develop a bit of soreness the day before the Test. I changed back to my boots. I’d only decided to try the shoes because the manufacturer was going to stop making the boots. The soreness seemed to go away.

But the pain came back and got worse as the second day wore on. I tried another pair of boots that I’d worn in already and they felt okay, but towards the end of the second day I was in a fair bit of pain when I bowled.

The doc injected a bit of local anaesthetic into it and I iced it overnight. I went for a scan on the morning of the third day and they injected cortisone in there to help with inflammation. The scan didn’t show anything and with the injections on board I felt good again.

At one point on the third day I told Ricky how good it was feeling. Two balls later it happened … CRACK!

Mitch Johnson reckoned he heard my ankle break from where he was fielding in the covers.

I was about three steps away from going into my bowling action when I felt it go. I pulled up as quickly as I could and went to ground. It was a strange feeling because it didn’t really hurt that much. I knew something was badly wrong, but the local anaesthetic and the cortisone were still present in my ankle, so I got up and tried to walk around a bit.

I took the boot off and had a look at it, but I couldn’t see anything wrong. Clearly something was amiss, though, so I hobbled off and they took me straight back to the place where I’d been scanned earlier that day.

This time the evidence was clear. You didn’t have to be a doctor to see the fracture line through the bone. When David Young saw it he told me it was a decent break. Part of the inside knuckle of my ankle—the medial malleolus—had snapped clean off.

It had nothing to do with my choice of shoes. I’d played a lot of cricket in the lead-up to that Test and the workload going through that ankle had built up to the point where something gave way. It didn’t show up on the initial scans, but they don’t always pick up low-grade stress reactions.

Back at the ground I lay down in the physio room and didn’t move for about two hours. I was absolutely shattered. All the boys were really disappointed for me and tried to get around me as much as they could, but what can you say to someone in that situation?

After the dramas with my knee I had felt like I was finally starting to make some real progress at international level. It was still sore, but we were managing it, and my confidence in our approach was growing.

To have something completely out of the blue happen like that was a bitter pill to swallow, to put it mildly. At my age the smallest setback could end my career, but this was a huge one.

Worse was to come, though. With all of those negative thoughts swirling around in my head, the local anaesthetic started to wear off and I found myself in the most excruciating pain I’d ever felt.

Alex initially told me that the fact I’d been able to walk off the ground under my own steam was a positive sign, but it gave us false hope. With the painkillers out of my system, I was left in no doubt whatsoever that this was a serious injury.

Even so, I pondered finding a way to bat in our second innings, but we were so far behind that we never seriously considered it.

Early on the fourth day we lost the Test by an innings and 157 runs and England retained the Ashes. I was on David Young’s operating table again that afternoon. He inserted two big screws into the ankle, which he assured me would fix the issue, but there would be a lengthy recovery period.

I was laid up in Melbourne for two or three days then flew back up to Brisbane to lie on the couch and feel sorry for myself. Cherie was great and looked after me, despite me being a horrible patient.

Cricket Australia put out a release saying that I’d miss three to four months, but there was no way I was going to be out for that long. I did sook it up a bit early, but it wasn’t long before I hardened up and decided to get back as soon as I could.

Still, I was really disappointed to miss the rest of the Australian summer. The World Cup in India and Sri Lanka was only a couple of months away as well, so there was no way I’d be ready for that. I’d had a good run in the one-dayers and I really wanted to make that squad and represent my country at a World Cup.

Like anything in life, though, in the face of adversity you can either curse your luck and feel sorry for yourself or you can accept what’s happened and go about fixing it. That only happens with hard work. I quickly set myself a few goals and set about putting together a rehab program.

My biggest concern was the position of the fracture. It’s estimated that a fast bowler puts about eight times his body weight through his front foot in the delivery stride. In my mind there was a weakness in that ankle now, so how on earth was I ever going to bowl with anything like the intensity I’d managed before the break?

David quickly allayed those fears. He said that with the screws in there it should actually be stronger than it previously was. Once it had healed properly it was just a matter of gradually increasing my training workload and, perhaps more importantly, slowly regaining confidence in my bowling action.

Sure enough, the psychological aspect of recovery was the area I found most challenging. I’d put myself through plenty of gruelling rehab programs before—too many—so the physical aspect was no problem. It was hard work, of course, but I was always confident that if I did the work I’d achieve the desired result at the end of the process. With this break there were nagging doubts, despite the assurances of David and Alex.

I visited David in Melbourne in early February for a check-up on my ankle. He was happy with how it was healing but, to add insult to injury, he determined that my knee needed further surgery. It had been grumbling along that summer, but the increased load of three (well, two and a half) Tests had taken a toll. I underwent a fifth arthroscopic procedure on my right knee, with David cleaning out several loose bodies that had been causing me ongoing pain.

It was a setback I clearly didn’t need in terms of my return to the Australian side, which was my main focus. But there were potentially dire financial ramifications for me too. I had been picked up by Indian Premier League side Kings XI Punjab at the IPL auction in January. If I couldn’t get back on my feet and bowling in time for the League’s early April kick-off, then one of the biggest contracts of my career would be torn up.