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Throughout much of the 1980s Australian cricket was a mess, the national team cast about on the winds of rebellion, hamstrung by retirements and peppered by regular defeat.

Yet in the 1990s the Baggy Green side was one of the greatest the sport has seen.

A generation of England fans grew up knowing the Australian side only as an all-conquering force, one who would habitually humiliate whichever side England sacrificially put out to take them on.

The pivot between the old, shambolic and (crucially) Ashes-losing Australia of the 1980s and the new, terrifying Pommie-pounding Australia of the 1990s came in the Ashes series of 1989.

And perhaps the simplest way to encapsulate the spirit of that summer is with two bottles of champagne and a glass of water.

First, the bubbly.

Terry Alderman, written off before the series as over-the-hill, a 30-something whose potency had been eroded by years of injury, a has-been that never really was, confounded the critics with match figures of 10 for 151 as Australia tore England apart in the first Test at Headingley.

The bowler whose swing swung the game in the tourists’ favour pipped Steve Waugh and Mark Taylor to the man-of-the-match award, accepted his magnum of champagne, then ordered it to be put on ice until the Ashes were back in Australian hands.

That was the first bottle in our tale.

The second makes its appearance in the hands of a waiter at lunch on the second day of the fifth Test.

Taylor and Geoff Marsh had batted through the entire opening day, Australia, 3-0 up with two games to play, the Ashes already heading back down under, were 370 for one, well on their way to amassing 400 plus in their first innings for the fifth time in five matches.

Marsh had at last been dismissed for 138 in the morning session and, “to celebrate”, the England captain David Gower ordered himself a glass of the good stuff.

If it was meant to be a self-deprecating attempt at light humour in the face of a crisis, it came across as a gesture of utter demoralisation, a sign of England’s all-too-obvious inadequacies and impotence in the face of a Baggy Green steamroller.

And, coupled with Alderman’s magnum, it showcased the contrast in attitude between the sides one shrugging its shoulders, one ruthlessly hell-bent on victory.

Which brings us on to that glass of water.

Later in that Test, during England’s doomed attempt to avoid the follow on, Robin Smith, arguably the only England player to come out of the series with any credit, asked the Australian captain if he might have a glass of water.

“No you fucking can’t, what do you think this is a fucking tea party?” came the unequivocal response from Allan Border.

This was a new Australia and a new Border.

No more Mr Nice Guy.

The seeds of the new era were sown in the Ashes series of 1985, one that for Australia had been preceded, in Border’s words, by “a monumental shit fight” following defections from the squad for a rebel tour of South Africa “I was a very unhappy captain, and I clearly had a very unhappy team on my hands.” Border’s team, defending the urn won back in 1982-83 by Greg Chappell, lost 3-1 to Gower’s England, but the atmosphere was convivial there’s an illustrative photograph in Border’s autobiography of the two captains at the end of a day’s play during that tour, Border clasping his opposite number in a handshake with one arm, the other draped chummily across Gower’s shoulders, smiles all round.

It was too convivial for some.

“AB, these blokes are belting the hell out of you,” Ian Chappell told the Australian captain, “but you’re out there being their best mate, for Christ’s sake.” Border would remember those words, and act accordingly, on his next visit to England.

Even fresher in Australian minds was the chastening beating they suffered on home soil at the hands of the West Indies in 1988-89.

“We got beaten by the West Indies in the Boxing Day Test they smashed us up and embarrassed us and we made a pact afterwards it would never happen again,” said Dean Jones, the Australian No5.

“That was the biggest turning point we’ve had in Australia.

Everything changed for us.

AB and all the players were harder on ourselves.” The tourists disembarked from 26 hours in business class (the first time an Australian side had not flown economy to England “‘Aussies mean business’ had a nice ring to it,” reckoned Border) to be greeted by the usual “worst touring side ever” headlines.

There was no doubt the home side expected to win.

Gower had announced himself “supremely confident” of not just retaining the Ashes but beating the Australians on his reappointment as captain in April.

If the confidence of the England side and media looks ludicrous in hindsight and in poring over the faults of the visitors they entirely overlooked the weaknesses in their own side it’s worth remembering that since winning the second Ashes Test at Lord’s on 27 June, 1985, Australia had won only five of 34 Tests, and of the 13 Tests played away from home in that period they had won none.

In the 1980s up to that point they had won just one series on foreign soil and that a one-match affair in Sri Lanka and they had won only three series anywhere since 1983.

The future greats in the side Taylor, Waugh, Healy were yet to reveal their greatness.

They even lost their opening three-day match of the tour in a low-scoring game against Worcestershire then drew against Somerset in the next.

Yet even during those games Border had a new demeanour.

He had always been a rugged character, a battler, but this was a new, harder edge he refused to talk to the opposition, and demanded complete discipline and commitment from his team in the field.

And from England’s point of view, the counties made the mistake of throwing fuel on the fire.

In 1985 Border had complained about county sides fielding below-strength lineups in tour matches, so in 1989 counties were offered cash prizes a share of 25,000 for wins over the tourists, in a rather ill-thought-out attempt to ensure competitive matches.

It certainly did that but a side-effect was that county sides tended to prepare result pitches.

Fiery, bouncy, mind-your-head pitches.

In the final tour match before the first Test, against Derbyshire who fielded Devon Malcolm and a young West Indian named Ian Bishop the Australian batting lineup were peppered with short deliveries.

Fuelled by the cold pizza served up for lunch, they were bowled out for 200 in their first innings, 180 in the second and scraped home by 11 runs .

That experience was the final straw.

In the first Test Australia would be determined to, in Border’s words, “show the bastards”.

And show them they did.

At Headingley, scene of Border’s lowest point in 1981, Gower won the toss (at which the Australia captain did not speak to his counterpart) and put the tourists in.

Taylor smashed his first Test century, Waugh did likewise, Australia declared at 601 for seven and despite England avoiding the follow-on, Alderman bowled the tourists to victory in the fourth innings.

The champagne went on ice.

After another game of what Border described as “bounce the Aussie” against a Lancashire attack including Wasim Akram and Patrick Patterson, Waugh made an unbeaten 152 in the first innings at Lord’s, Merv Hughes was warned for intimidatory bowling and an Australian side went two up after two Tests in England for the first time since Donald Bradman’s side in 1948.

Two moments at HQ again illustrate Australia’s new-found focus.

Border points to the incident when he swiped at and missed a triple-bounce ball from Neil Foster.

England were tickled, the Australian captain furious: “Maybe in 1985 I’d have responded to such an incident, and their joking, with a bit of light-hearted banter of my own.” This time around there was just naked rage.

After the match the Australian camp received a telegram from the makers of the Crocodile Dundee films: “The party is on us.

When and where do you want it?” Again it was decided to wait until after the Ashes were secure.

For the third Test at Edgbaston England recalled Ian Botham, despite the fact that he had neither scored a first-class fifty nor taken five wickets in an innings for two years, and rain came to the rescue.

But at Old Trafford in the fourth Test (ahead of which England were rocked by the announcement of a rebel squad to tour South Africa) there was no escape from the throttling, aggressive fields, disciplined bowling and belligerent dismantling of the England attack.

Three-nil, the Ashes back in Australian hands, but the relentless tourists and their captain were not yet satisfied.

“We had some unfinished business: we wanted to win the series 5-0, the greatest winning margin by an Australian team.

We had a team meeting at which the feeling was very much: ‘Let’s go for the jugular.’” At Trent Bridge Taylor and Marsh did not just go for the jugular they ripped it out and made balloon animals with it.

The first day ended with Australia 301 without loss, the opening pair becoming the first players to bat through an entire day’s play in a Test in England and only the third openers to do so anywhere.

The home side by this stage were in disarray Australia won by an innings and 180 runs.

The ordeal was nearly over for Gower and England.

On the opening morning of the sixth Test Border was asked if he would like England to up their game a little, just to try his side’s mettle, to see how his youngsters responded to pressure.

“Nope,” came the reply.

England, who with their team selection took the number of players used during the series to 29 (Australian, in contrast, used 12), escaped with a rain-affected draw after Border, ruthless to the end, had delayed a declaration on the final day.

An earlier end to the Australian innings “would have given England a sniff of victory and I had no intention of doing that”.

The demolition work was complete, England reduced to rubble.

Australia, 4-0 winners for the first time since 1948, had their party courtesy of Crocodile Dundee’s box-office takings, flew home for ticker-tape parades and prepared for a new era of hard-nosed dominance.

England hunkered down for a rebuilding job that would take a decade.

That was definitely no tea party.