The last one-day match in Mackay had everything you want from an ODI: centuries, a vocal crowd, and a sense that the format still has plenty to offer when played with intent.

Three hundreds in the one innings — from Travis Head, Mitch Marsh and Cam Green — was a statement.

Head and Marsh showed, again, why they’ve become two of the most destructive players in the 50-over game, while Green showed why he can be a dangerous bat in Australia’s top-order in the shorter format.

His confidence will grow from this, and hopefully, he can transfer that into the longer format.

It was a much-needed performance too. Australia were under the pump having already conceded the series and their recent ODI record against South Africa has been poor.

The scars run deep when you think back to the famous 438 run chase in Johannesburg in 2006. Herschelle Gibbs’ century turned into one of the most brutal assaults on an Australian attack in memory, and it was swift.

I was on the bench that game, and I’ll never forget when Ricky Ponting came into the dressing rooms after his own brilliant hundred and said: “The job’s not done yet.”

There was a buzz — almost a sense of, ‘we’ve got this’, because we’d posted such a huge score — and maybe, just maybe, a feeling that it couldn’t possibly be chased down.

Sitting there, I remember thinking how glad I was not to be bowling, but at the same time wondering how I’d have tried to get them out.

The South African crowd was electric, the pitch was a road, and every ball felt like it disappeared into the stands. As a bowler, those are the days that test every bit of your craft. You execute your skills, stick to your plans, move to Plan B, then back to Plan A — and still you’re fetching balls from over the fence.

It’s the same in T20s today: each ball matters, but sometimes even your best just isn’t enough. And there is absolutely no place to hide!

That’s why seeing Australia put together a dominant batting display in Mackay felt important. The one-day game is in a strange space globally — fighting for relevance at times — but when you see centuries piled on like that, with intent and class, you’re reminded why it still matters.

The players looked hungry, and the ground itself played its part. A good mate of mine travelled down from Townsville with his kids to watch the match.

They’re big cricket fans and he said the experience was unreal — not just the cricket, but the chance to be in that atmosphere, see the best players in the world up close, and be part of a crowd that felt invested in the contest.

He mentioned how great the ground in Mackay looked up close, saying it was every bit worthy as an international venue.

His one lament was that Townsville, also my home town, doesn’t have the lighting infrastructure to host day-night internationals.

That’s the reality for a lot of regional centres in Australia. Mackay got the nod because they can run a game under lights, but wouldn’t it be something if Townsville could host these occasions as well?

There’s a whole community of cricket fans there, families who would fill the stands, and kids who would walk away dreaming about being the next Head, Marsh or Green.

That’s the beauty of taking games to smaller towns. For all the big-stadium glitz of the major cities, these matches matter just as much — if not more — in the regions.

They bring cricket closer to communities who don’t often get the chance. They give young cricketers a live look at the standards required at international level. And they remind us that cricket is, at its best, a game for everyone — not just the big-city crowds.

For Australia, the challenge now is to build on that Mackay performance.

Too often in recent years, especially against South Africa, we’ve seen one good result offset by inconsistency.

But if the hunger shown by Head, Marsh and Green can be carried forward, then there’s every chance the ODI side can build some belief again.

And maybe one day Townsville will get its lights, and the next big one-day memory might come a little closer to home.