India vs England, 5th Test: Cricket. Bloody Hell.

India vs England, 5th Test: What even is cricket, but concealed masochism? Why can't we bake, and die happy at 60?

India vs England, 5th Test: India defeated England by 6 runs.

(Photo: BCCI)

What even is cricket?

Twenty-two strangers in flannel whites — some swinging a piece of seasoned willow, others hurling a cork-and-leather sphere. And yet, somehow, this chaotic ballet dictates the breath, the heartbeat, the entire emotional landscape of billions. It is madness. Pandemonium. Religion. Everything, everywhere, all at once.

James Neesham wasn’t joking when he advised kids to take up baking, die fat and happy at sixty, and leave the torment of sport to the fools.

And really — why cannot we die fat and happy at 60? Which masochist suggested that an entire populace should tether their sanity to a game of inches and variables?

What even is cricket?

The Great Leveller That Is Cricket

It is — if nothing else — a leveller. Arguably, the greatest leveller there is. Perhaps, greater than life itself.

The fifth Test between England and India has concluded. With it, the series. And where do we stand after 25 days of riveting, at times disquieting, cricket? Precisely where we began — equilibrium. A 2-2 draw. A shared saga.

England lost the fifth Test by 6 runs. Chasing a target of 374 runs, they were bowled out for 367. That is, from a seemingly comfortable position of 301/4. But should they have lost?

Should cricket be so brutish that there is but utter disregard for Chris Woakes’ agony? At 36, he suffers a shoulder dislocation. England announce he will not take any further part in the game, and it is the only logical decision. And yet, he did take a part. He had to.

England lost their ninth wicket at 357, and with Gus Atkinson around, there was hope of getting over the line. Atkinson needed a partner, and at that stage, even half-a-partner worked.

But how does one even bat with a dislocated shoulder?

Simple — one does not. Woakes walked on with his hand wrapped inside an immobiliser, and then tucked inside his shirt.

But what about running?

Running with a dislocated shoulder is excruciating. The legs may move, but every jolt sends a ripple of agony through the upper body. What begins as stabbing pain becomes a slow, unbearable burn. And yet, Woakes ran. Wincing. Grimacing. But running.

But all of that numbing pain seems futile vis-à-vis the one he experienced in the first ball of the 86^th over. With a precise yorker, Mohammed Siraj uprooted Gus Atkinson. England stood defeat. Oval was breached. The Indian flags were flying high. And all Woakes could do was stand shellshocked — despite all the sensations his arm was experiencing.

So, where’s the justice in cricket, you might ask? And, you would not be wrong. In cricket, as in life, justice is often an illusion we manufacture to survive heartbreak. But if not just, cricket is certainly fair — cruelly, brilliantly fair.

For only three weeks ago, Siraj himself had lived Woakes’ agony. India, chasing 193, were 170 for 9. Siraj, the last man, survived 29 balls. On the 30^th ball, he offered a textbook defence to off-spinner Shoaib Bashir, and middled the ball. Yet, the ball bobbled, spun weirdly, kissed the stumps. Defeat. Just like that. Siraj should not have lost. Neither should Woakes. But they both did. The only winner was cricket.

Just Persist, and Your Perseverance Will Do the Talking

The other aspect of cricket is — regardless of how unsympathetic it is — it does honour persistence. Ask Mohammed Siraj.

The pacer was made to toil on English pitches that was not kind on the seamers. And he had to bowl for a team where the pace spearhead — the bowler Siraj ‘only believes in’ — could only play three matches. Workload management, and perhaps, rightfully so. But not for Siraj.

He went for 173/2 in the first Test. Came back with a six-for in the second. Struggled again in the fourth — 140 for one — but found redemption at the Oval with nine wickets.

The others were not around.

Jasprit Bumrah? Absent.

Prasidh Krishna? Inconsistent.

Akash Deep? Promising, but inexperienced.

Anshul Kamboj? Neither experienced, nor inspiring hope.

Spinners? Reduced to also-rans.

Shardul Thakur? Seldom bowled.

It had to be Siraj. He had to bowl 1110 deliveries — 257 more than any other Indian. He had to pick up 23 wickets and end up as the series’ leading wicket-taker. He had to pick up the three of the four wickets India required on Day 5. He had to uproot Gus Atkinson.

Believe. Why Won’t You, Son?

After the game, Siraj revealed:

When I woke up today, I thought I could do it. I downloaded a picture from Google saying 'believe.' 

Mohammed Siraj

He idolises Cristiano Ronaldo. Celebrated Atkinson’s wicket with the famous Siuu. Ronaldo always said he became what he became because he believed.

If you don’t believe you are the best, then you will never achieve all what you are capable of.

Cristiano Ronaldo

Belief, after all, is the invisible fuel that powers every athlete and every team. Like it did Manchester United in 1999, when they won their second UEFA Champions League title by beating Bayern Munich 2-1, when in fact, they were trailing 0-1 till the 91^st minute.

Following the match, Sir Alex Ferguson — Ronaldo’s former coach — stated: “Football. Bloody Hell.”

We do know that Ferguson is a fan of the sport. At 83, he might not have witnessed this match. If he did, however, he certainly would have murmured: “Cricket. Bloody Hell.”