The ongoing debate on the privatisation of the Big Bash League continues at Cricket Australia (CA) and the state associations. While we are here, I thought it was pertinent to look at what happened the last time these talks surfaced.

Back in 2011, when the BBL first started, Cricket Australia fought to keep private investors out of it. The state associations were keen to have them on board. The deal fell apart back then, and the BBL went on to become what we know today.

Now, we return to the same debate, 15 years on. Except, it is CA that is driving this attempt at privatisation, and the states (namely NSW and Queensland) have held back.

Similar stake on offer. Similar investor pools. Completely reversed stands.

THE LINEUP

The 2011 debate had a clear front line. On one side, Cricket Australia’s executive team – CEO James Sutherland, Head of Strategy Andrew Jones, and Head of Commercial Mike McKenna, who believed that private capital would compromise the BBL’s core purpose of growing the game and attracting new audiences. On the other side were several state associations, most vocal of whom were Western Australia, Cricket NSW, Cricket Victoria, and South Australia (who were carrying debts from the redevelopment of the Adelaide Oval).

Andrew Jones wrote an internal memo that is most remembered as describing the privatisation offer as “free cheese in a mousetrap”. Fifteen years later, he makes the same argument, now from the outside, in a widely circulated writeup that is one of the more coherent cases made against the proposal (which we will discuss as part of the next article).

WHAT’S ON THE TABLE – 2011 vs 2026

The 2011 terms, in retrospect, feel quite muted. A maximum stake of 49% (the same headline number in play today), but with a 10-year ownership limit on offer instead of perpetuity. Private investors would be excluded entirely from sharing television rights revenue. The offers tabled were around AU$30-35 million per franchise, paid over five to seven years.

Today’s estimates are AU$150-200 million per franchise, in perpetuity, with full participation in future broadcast revenues. That is not just a difference for inflation but is a time-limited licensing arrangement in an unproven competition in 2011 vs a permanent equity stake in a profitable, dominant one in 2026. The BBL grew into the valuation that the 2011 investors were being asked to imagine.

ARGUMENTS BY EACH SIDE

The state associations were keen to privatise for a few reasons:

• They were influenced by the investment that the IPL had drawn when it started three years prior.

• Selling a stake of the BBL franchise could bring in funding to develop the game at the grassroots level and improve facilities.

• They were not fully convinced that the BBL would survive (Remember that this was before the first season of the BBL). From their perspective, taking a guaranteed AU$30-35 million now was a better offer than risking everything on a tournament that may not stand the test of time.

Cricket Australia’s counter position believed in the success of the BBL, and they were hesitant to give away a lifetime of profits. They also believed the CA could comfortably run the BBL on its own without needing financial capital from the outside and risk giving a seat at the table to vested interests. Another key concern was that of a strategic misalignment as private investors would operate from a place of maximising returns around the team without necessarily prioritising, or sometimes even at the cost of, the core purpose of the BBL - to attract new demographics, make cricket inclusive and keep young kids interested in the game

To add to that, the BBL’s first season attendances exceeded all projections, and these were the same projections that initial testing of investors had labelled too optimistic.

WHY THE IDEA OF PRIVATISATION WAS FINALLY SCRAPPED

• The terms of the private investment put out to market saw CA give up very little control in exchange for capital, almost relying on investors coming in for the altruistic aim of benefitting growth of the sport or relying on them being ardent cricket lovers who would pay up just to be close to the game, all without necessarily showing a path to benefit from their investment.

• Potential investors were sceptical of the BBL’s audience and television projections (which were actually more conservative than what the BBL ultimately achieved in that first year)

• A sales delegation that went to India to test out investor appetite found that interested parties were mostly IPL franchise owners looking to add a BBL team as a satellite setup to expand their franchise reach or get value from their existing setups. It became clear that there was a disconnect between what investors would want out of the BBL team and what the state associations and CA would want.

This context is very interesting in light of the discussions today – with many of the same issues persisting in today’s BBL debate while CA and NSW (and Queensland) are key players who have completely flipped their stance from the last time.

With this backdrop, the next issue moves to current discussions and what CA needs to get right if they are to make this privatisation work someday. Cricket Australia of 2011 was right about the BBL’s future. Will the Cricket Australia of 2026 get it right?

The 2011 material draws primarily on Daniel Brettig’s account in The Cricket Monthly published back in 2017. Read that article here for a deeper look into the dynamics of that attempt.

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Part 1 | The Evolution of the Sudden Death: From Ties to Bowl-outs to Multiple Super Overs

Part 2 | When a Tie Isn’t the End – It’s the Beginning of Heartbreak

Part 3 | ODI Cricket: Highest Chases, Mathematical Chaos, and Last-Over Drama

Part 4 | Test Cricket: Day 5 Shockers and the Slimmest of Margins

Part 5 | T20s: A Frenzy of Last-Ball Heists

Five parts. Dozens of matches. And running through almost every single one of them, if you look closely enough, is the same thread: someone made a mistake, and someone else refused to.

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These two things – the error and the nerve, are not opposites. They are the same story told from two different angles. The finishes in this series are not great because one team was brilliant and the other was not. In fact, both sides being extremely competitive is what brings us these moments in the first place. They carve a place in our memories because both things happened at once: a moment of fallibility that opened the door, and a moment of extraordinary composure that walked through it. Remove either one, and they don’t make the highlight reel.

The Cracks That Made the Moment

Headingley 2019 – that Ben Stokes innings, now spoken of in the same breath as some of the greatest in Test history. But it would not have existed had Marcus Harris held a catch when England were 17 away. It would not have existed had Nathan Lyon not fumbled a run out one run away from a tie. Had Australia held onto a poor review earlier, the result would have been victory for them by 1 run. The ‘what ifs’ are plenty, but they are not a footnote to the miracle. They are part of its architecture.

1999 World Cup – Herschelle Gibbs dropping Steve Waugh on 56, only for Waugh to end on 120* and take Australia to a win in the Super Six game. Four days later, that win and the barest of net run rate gaps was the difference between Australia advancing from a tied semi-final and South Africa going home. A dropped catch in Leeds was only the start of a series of dominoes to fall. A World Cup dream, crashed.

Wanderers 2006 – Nathan Bracken was the standout bowler for Australia with a 5-fer, but played a part in making history with dropping Gibbs on 130. Gibbs went on to make 175. South Africa chased 438. The greatest ODI ever played exists.

The pattern is consistent enough across almost every match in this series. There is a moment – a drop, a no-ball, a misread, a decision that looks catastrophic in hindsight, that created the conditions for what followed. Mark Boucher blocking the last ball in Durban in 2003, not knowing he needed one more run. Mohammad Nawaz’s no-ball in the final over at Melbourne, turning eleven runs off one legal delivery. These are not mistakes born of incompetence. They are mistakes born of the specific, unrepeatable weight of a match on the line – the cognitive pressure test that comes when the scoreboard shows single digits and the next delivery might be the last one that matters.

The Nerve That Walked Through It

But here is the thing about all of those errors: they only become legendary because someone rose above.

Stokes did not benefit passively from the missed chances. He was already batting in a way that left no room for any other result. The drop and the LBW reprieve gave him the chance to prove it. Karthik in Colombo did not stumble into that six off the last ball – he had spent the preceding over constructing the situation that would allow him to hit it.

Nerve is not just the absence of mistakes. It is its own remarkable quality. The capacity to remain composed, to play the right shot, bowl the right delivery, make the right call, when the occasion is doing everything it can to make you flinch.

It is not skill. It is not fitness. It is the ability to produce what you are capable of when the pressure is actively working against you. It is the ability to surprise even yourself with what you are able to create in that ‘fight or flight’ moment. No amount of time in the nets, or practice sessions, or even matches can teach you that.

What the Scorecards Cannot Hold

And that – the nerve, the fallibility, the coexistence of both, is what goes beyond the scorecard (pun intended!). Every scorecard in this series shows the same thing: totals, wickets, overs, results. What they miss are the moments before the final delivery. The fielder’s hands as the ball comes toward them. The bowler’s run-up. The batter settling into stance with everything on the line.

The scorecards record what happened. This series has tried to capture what made it exceptional and the answer, across six parts and dozens of matches, is the same – because the people involved are human. They drop catches. They misread targets. They bowl no-balls. And they also, sometimes, in the same match, in the same over, off the same delivery, find something in themselves that they did not know was there.

Six parts. The series is done. The scorecards will endure. The moments will be rewatched, retold and re-examined – they are what remain etched in our memory.

Part 1 | The Evolution of the Sudden Death: From Ties to Bowl-outs to Multiple Super Overs

Part 2 | When a Tie Isn’t the End – It’s the Beginning of Heartbreak

Part 3 | ODI Cricket: Highest Chases, Mathematical Chaos, and Last-Over Drama

Part 4 | Test Cricket: Day 5 Shockers and the Slimmest of Margins

We move from Test cricket – where results that come down to the wire are a gripping surprise, to T20s where that would be just another day in the office. Here is a collection of some of the more awe-inducing ones.

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The Roar That Created History: West Indies vs England, Kolkata, 2016

The 2016 T20 World Cup final at Eden Gardens lives in a category of its own – not just as a great finish, but as the moment that redefined final overs in T20s.

England, defending a total of 155, had the match firmly in hand. They fancied themselves victory when they successfully managed to get Marlon Samuels (85 off 66) off the strike for the final over. West Indies needed 19 runs in the last 6 balls, bowled by Ben Stokes. What happened next is a probabilistic rarity. Carlos Brathwaite, a lower-order hitter with a strike rate to envy, hit four consecutive sixes off Stokes. Four. In a row. Off a bowler who was giving it everything he had but erred with two full deliveries in the hitting arc. West Indies won by four wickets with two balls to spare, and Brathwaite’s celebration – arms spread, roaring at the Kolkata sky – became one of the iconic images of the format.

I was on a train from Bangalore to Goa when it happened. One man in the compartment had the match on his mobile phone, the screen barely bigger than his hands. About fifteen people craning their necks over his shoulder to witness Brathwaite at his finest. When Brathwaite hit that fourth six, the compartment erupted – strangers in a train looking at one another with giant grins, in a shared, unanimous disbelief. Carlos Brathwaite produced the unimaginable to make West Indies the first team to win the Cup twice.

A Legacy in Eight Deliveries: India vs Bangladesh, Nidahas Trophy Final, Colombo, 2018

If Brathwaite’s moment was about raw power, Dinesh Karthik’s was about something more precise. And in some ways more improbable because Karthik arrived with the equation already almost unsolvable.

Bangladesh, batting first, posted 166/8. India’s chase stuttered and lurched, and when Karthik walked in at number six, they needed 34 runs off the final two overs – against bowling that had been strangling the innings. The 19th over, bowled by Rubel Hossain, went for 22 runs, Karthik the architect of that over including 2 sixes and 2 fours. India then needed 12 off the final six balls.

The last over fell to Soumya Sarkar – not a frontline bowler, but the best of the options available to Bangladesh with their specialist attack exhausted. The over started with a wide, then a couple of singles – 9 required off 3 balls. A boundary from Vijay Shankar followed by a hot potato catch with the ball bouncing off three pairs of hands, leaves India needing 5 runs off the final delivery with Karthik on strike. Karthik hit it flat and hard for six. India won by four wickets off the last ball of the match.

It was not elegant. It was not one of those innings where you could say the batter was always in control. It was a calculated, last-ditch act of finishing that required precision, nerve and some risk-taking, simultaneously – a combination that most cricketers find hard to produce at the same time. For a score that reads like any other 29*(8), you could not be blamed if you looked past it on the scorecard. But for the game and anyone watching, those 8 deliveries changed the entire course of the result.

This innings is also impossible to separate from the story of Dinesh Karthik, the cricketer. He had played international cricket since 2004 – talented, consistent, perpetually considered the nearly-man who could not hold down a permanent spot in the Indian side. The Colombo finish did not just win a trophy. It gave him an identity: the finisher. If you ask any cricket fan today which Karthik innings they remember, the Nidahas trophy final always makes the cut. Twenty-nine runs, eight balls, and a Man of the Match-winning cameo that rewrote how the cricketing world saw him. The innings arrived late in his career, but it somehow made its way to one of the career-defining ones.

The MCG in Chaos: India vs Pakistan, Melbourne, 2022 T20 World Cup

Some matches are remembered for what went right. This one is remembered for what went wrong – three times, for Pakistan, in the final over, handing India one of their most famous T20 victories.

Pakistan, batting first, posted 159/8. India’s chase began catastrophically: reduced to 31/4 within the powerplay. Virat Kohli was left to rebuild alongside Hardik Pandya with the game already tilting towards Pakistan.

With 28 needed off 8 balls for India, Kohli hit Haris Rauf for two sixes at the end of his spell, sending the MCG crowd into a tizzy. Sixteen off the final over, bowled by Mohammad Nawaz. A no-ball on the fourth delivery swatted by Kohli for a six (to rub salt on the wound). Still technically the same delivery (the free-hit) – and Nawaz bowled a wide. The next ball did end up getting Kohli bowled but not out (still a free-hit delivery), and the batsmen ran for three. One legal delivery, 11 runs. The equation that started at 28 off 8, now down to 2 off 2. Wicket off the next ball brought Ashwin in. The final nail in the coffin came over the last ball – another wide and then finally, the one run. India won.

Kohli finished with 82 not out off 53 balls – widely regarded as one of his best T20 innings. India won by four wickets. Pakistan had bowled and fielded superbly for most of those 40 overs – and three moments at the very end cost them the match. That is T20 cricket – razor-thin margins, sometimes euphoric and sometimes its most cruel, all at the same time.

There is no dearth of matches, moments, nail-biters in the sport, particularly in this format of the game. We ruminated over some here, over others earlier in the series. There are still many more that come to mind – India taking 3 wickets off the last 3 balls of the match to secure a 1-run victory over Bangladesh in the 2016 T20 World Cup, South Africa pulling off a win over Sri Lanka with one ball to spare with 2 sixes in the final over despite a Hasaranga hat-trick in the 18^th, in the 2021 T20 World Cup, or the entirety of the 2022 India vs Australia series.

That is the trick the shortest format has never stopped pulling off: making the inevitable feel impossible, or vice-versa, over and over again. Part 6 is the final chapter – the human fallibility that sits behind the greatest finishes of all, the drops and misreads and miscalculations that made moments like these possible in the first place.

This is the fifth in a multi-part series exploring cricket’s greatest finishes. In the closing chapter, we’ll look at:

• Part 6: Human Fallibility, Sporting Legend: When Mistakes Create Magic

Part 1 | The Evolution of the Sudden Death: From Ties to Bowl-outs to Multiple Super Overs

Part 2 | When a Tie Isn’t the End – It’s the Beginning of Heartbreak

Part 3 | ODI Cricket: Highest Chases, Mathematical Chaos, and Last-Over Drama

Test cricket has no clock. It builds at its own pace – sometimes sedate, sometimes savage, always accumulating. But then, on occasions so rare they acquire their own proper nouns, it boils down to a single moment that defines everything. What follows is a selection of those occasions: the finishes that should not exist in a format built on attrition, yet somehow do.

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The One-Run Wins: Adelaide 1993 and Wellington 2023

Adelaide, January 1993

Australia, at the cusp of breaking the then mighty West Indies’ 29 Test series wins, brought the equation down to 2 runs with the last wicket remaining. Craig McDermott, facing Courtney Walsh, one shot away from victory, fed the ball to the keeper. (If that wasn’t captivating enough already, today’s technology raises the question of whether it hit the helmet grill or the bat!). Australia came so close to what would have been an upset back then, but West Indies won by one run.

Wellington, February 2023

New Zealand had followed on and set England 258 to win. The last pair, Jack Leach and James Anderson, brought England agonisingly close before Neil Wagner took Anderson caught behind on a dive. New Zealand won by one run, becoming only the fourth team in history to win a Test after following on. (The third team to achieve this feat also features next.)

Two matches, separated by three decades, united by the narrowest of margins. In Test cricket, one run should never be enough to separate two teams. Twice, it has been exactly enough.

Part 2 of this series noted that tied Tests have happened exactly twice in the history of the format. One-run wins: also exactly twice. The format produces its most absolute margins with a rarity that borders on the ceremonial.

The Greatest Display of Tenacity at the Mecca of Indian Cricket: Kolkata, 2001

Australia arrived at Eden Gardens in March 2001 on a sixteen-match winning streak (the longest Test winning streak to this day, tied with Australia’s own streak from 2005-08). Steve Waugh had called India the “final frontier” for his team – the one place his dominant side had never won a series. Having won the first Test in the 3-match series, Australia were looking to change that in the second Test at Kolkata. Before we got to lunch on Day 3, India were bowled out for 171, the follow-on enforced, trailing by 274.

What followed across the next two days is arguably one of the most celebrated partnerships in Test history. VVS Laxman, promoted to number three, batting through severe back spasms, and Rahul Dravid, fighting a viral fever, batted through the entirety of Day 4 together, adding 335 runs in the Kolkata heat. By the time Australia broke the stand on the fifth morning, Laxman had made 281 and their partnership had stretched to 376. India declared at 657/7 (Rahul Dravid ended his innings at 180). With Australia needing 384 runs to seal victory and the series, Harbhajan Singh (who had already taken a hat-trick in the match) tore through Australia’s second innings with 6/73, and Australia were bowled out for 212, marking the third instance in history of a team winning a Test after following on.

Twenty-five years on, Laxman posted a photograph of the two of them together and wrote: “In a moment when the game looked beyond us, we chose belief, patience and resilience. That stand was not just about runs but was about trust, teamwork and fighting for every session.” The image, of two batsmen who tore the script apart and created their own story (along with Harbhajan Singh), has never really left the memory of anyone who watched.

India won the third Test, leaving the “final frontier” intact.

The Fortress That Fell: Brisbane, 2021

India’s tour of Australia had begun shockingly in December 2020, with India bowled out for 36 at Adelaide – their lowest ever Test total. By January 2021, they were down to a squad so depleted by injury and rotation that the bowling group for the fourth Test had a combined experience of four Tests! Virat Kohli had returned home. Jasprit Bumrah, Ravindra Jadeja, and Mohammed Shami were all unavailable.

The fourth Test took them to the Gabba, which had not seen an Australian defeat in 32 years. Australia had made the ground a strategic weapon: from 1986 until 2022, the Gabba was the traditional venue for the opening Test of the Australian summer, chosen precisely because it offered every advantage – a fast pitch, a hostile crowd, and three decades of accumulated psychological fright. Touring sides arrived at the Gabba already beaten, in a sense, before a ball was bowled.

India needed 328 to win. Once Pujara departed following a resistant 56 (211), after a young Shubman Gill (in his debut series, with a sticker-free bat) left for 91, Australia looked prime for a win. But 23-year old Rishabh Pant, playing in just his tenth Test, had other ideas. Walking in at Number 5, he showed his intent to hit from the outset. Washington Sundar, who started the series as a net bowler and ended up making his debut in this final Test, held his nerve at the other end with a cameo to support. With Australia’s bowlers trying their best to hunt down wickets in the afternoon Brisbane heat, Pant picked the ball off his hip and sent it to the boundary to seal an Indian victory with three wickets in hand.

From 36 all out in Adelaide to chasing 328 at the Gabba with a second-string squad. The fortress that had stood for 32 years, undone by a 23-year old who didn’t seem to recall that the walls of the Gabba were meant to be impregnable.

The Tail That Nearly Saved Them: Edgbaston, 2005

The second Test of the 2005 Ashes arrived with England already under considerable pressure, having convincingly lost the first Test in a series they had not won in 18 years. At Edgbaston, in the fourth innings, Australia were chasing 282. With Michael Clarke the only recognised batter left at 136/6, England had the faintest sniff of vengeance. The final morning started with Australia needing 107 runs and England needing 2 wickets. You would think this should not go down to the wire from here, but every cricket fan knows you can never write off Australia until the door is sealed shut. Shane Warne and Brett Lee added 45 for the ninth wicket. With 62 required off the last wicket, Lee and Kasprowicz continued fighting. They kept chipping off the runs to victory – 55 runs, 33 runs, 20 runs and a short one hits Lee in the fingers, 15 runs and Kasprowicz is dropped in the slips, 5 runs. With 3 runs needed, Kasprowicz edged Harmison to Geraint Jones behind the stumps. England won by two runs.

England went on to win the series 2-1, securing their first Ashes victory in 18 years and bringing the urn back home after 16 years. Open-top bus parades and the 2006 New Year Honours List found their way to this team, and it all began with a two-run win that nearly slipped out of their hands.

Up with the greatest: Headingley, 2019

Some matches define a series. Some define a player. The third Ashes Test of 2019 at Headingley did both, and it did so in a single afternoon on the fourth day.

England, cruising at one stage at 140/2, had disintegrated to 286/9, chasing 359. Anyone who left the ground at that point because England were going to lose (there was absolutely no question of it!), missed one of the greatest Test innings ever played. Ben Stokes, on 61, was joined by the last man Jack Leach, with 73 still required to win and one wicket left.

Australia had their chances: Marcus Harris dropped Stokes at third man when England were 17 short. Nathan Lyon fumbled a run-out off a Leach single with one run needed to tie. The very next ball, Australia could not refer an lbw shout when Stokes was struck plumb on the pad, having wasted their final review in the previous over. Three chances. All of them gone.

When the game eventually ended, Leach scored 1 run off 17 balls – one of the more obscure contributions to celebrate in Ashes history.

Ben Stokes, on the other hand, was leaving nothing on the table. Two sixes in a Nathan Lyon over to bring the required runs to under 50; 4-6-6 off Hazlewood to bring it down to 21 required; two boundaries off Cummins, soon after Harris dropped him, bringing it to 9 required. Another slog and 2 runs required. Stokes finally, and fittingly, hit the winning runs, through the covers for four.

135 not out, whipping a one-wicket win out of thin air, roaring and falling to his knees on the pitch. Another one of those sights that you would never forget! Ben Stokes played an innings of extraordinary proportions, producing an absolute miracle at Headingley.

One Man, 56 minutes : The Kia Oval, 2025

England were chasing 374 in the fifth and final Test – a draw sufficient to win the series poised at 2-1. Harry Brook and Joe Root had both made centuries, England sitting comfortably at 301/3 before tea on Day 4 – enough play time to get to the 73 runs left with 7 wickets in hand. Akash Deep and Prasidh Krishna got both centurions and Bethell out, with England ending the day on 339/6 after rain and bad light halt proceedings.

Day 5 begins with 35 runs between England and victory in the Test – fair to say, a smooth ride expected to the finish line. It only took 56 minutes to question everything you thought you knew (about Tests, about cricket, about life?). Mohammed Siraj turned up that morning to produce a devastating spell that will be remembered as one of the great match-turning performances, and certainly one of his finest cricketing moments, rattling off the 4 remaining English wickets in under an hour of day’s play. He ended the innings with 5 wickets, India capturing the last 7 England wickets for just 66 runs. Last man standing, without facing a ball, was Chris Woakes, who had been ruled out on the first morning after dislocating his shoulder, and rocked up here, at Number 11, with his left arm in a sling under his sweater, bat held in the wrong hand. England, who had looked certain to win the series, suddenly fell 6 short – handing India its smallest-ever winning margin in Tests, and levelling the series 2-2.

In limited-overs cricket, a last-ball finish is a feature. In Test cricket, it is an abnormality – five days of accumulated craft collapsing into a single moment that the format wasn’t designed to produce. That is what makes each one indelible.

The next part of this series heads to the other extremity of the spectrum: the T20 format, where every last ball is a designed outcome, and the tension is no less real.

This is the fourth in a multi-part series exploring cricket’s greatest finishes. In the coming weeks, we’ll look at:

• Part 5: T20s: A Frenzy of Last-Ball Heists

• Part 6: Human Fallibility, Sporting Legend: When Mistakes Create Magic

The illustrations in this post are by Pankti Joshi. Follow her work on Instagram here:

@skinny_doodler

18

The sum of the digits of 03-06-2025

Virat Kohli’s jersey number

Number of years the red & gold relentlessly showed up at their loudest, and never lost hope

The day RCB lifted the IPL trophy for the first time

Sitting almost 5,000 miles away from my home for over 7 years, from a ring I’ve shown up at in my favourite red & gold, from a city that has willingly put itself through a rollercoaster of emotions year in and year out – you would think (and so did I earlier in the day) that the distance would take a toll, that I would not get as emotional, that I would eventually stop smiling, that I would not have a nostalgia reel in my head all night.

How wrong that turned out to be!

Watching those last 6 balls, daring to hope a little more after each delivery, cautious to not get carried away until it was all done, watching #18 start to tear up – is a sequence that the 12^th Man Army¹ has etched into their memories in slow motion. It’s hard to describe what it means until it actually happens, and even then, can we truly describe it?

Off go the fireworks immediately, at the stadium, in Bangalore, in countless other cities in Karnataka, and (believe it or not) even in Chennai, the backyard of our Southern Derby rivals.

There are two stories running in parallel here that make it all make sense (just about). One of the most glamourous franchises from Day 1 of the IPL back in 2008 that has always managed to attract incredible names over the years, stalwarts of the sport, all match-winners in their own right. Yet, the collective never managed to get across the line. It was heartbreak for these legends, it was heartbreak for the fans, it was a hollow silence at the Chinnaswamy. We’d see a repeat of that story year after year, after year. And every April, the team and the fans would come back knowing that THIS would finally be our year. ‘Ee sala cup namde’2 – you’d hear everywhere in the city. The second story is that of a man, a legend, one of the greats of the sport – tasted incredible success on the world stage, broken records and created a space for himself in the same breath as the crème de la crème of world cricket. Yet he showed up for RCB every year and saw the team fail before we got there. He also showed up year after year, after year hoping THIS time, we’d get there.

For the RCB fans, it is both of these stories finally getting the tear-jerking, heartwarming, fairytale ending it deserves. For the non-RCB fans, it was to see their legend finally win the trophy that has singularly eluded him for almost two decades.

We can talk about the results and the records. The only team in the 18-year history of the IPL to win all its away games of the season. 9 different people winning the Player of the Match across the 2025 season. In the final, for a team that has historically had batting glory and a bowling unit that looked patched up, the bowlers won it for us – definitively.

My favourite one though, is 9 different people winning the POTM. It drives home a key pillar of sporting teams that we often seem to forget – teams win team sports. Individuals can step up, lead the way, even single-handedly change the fate of a single game, but if you want to win a tournament, a running series, an event, a year, an era – it is the team that does it, not an individual. RCB showed us that today – yes, we have our fair share of stalwarts, but we also have people without the attention, without the platform, and the collective operated as one, leaving no room for individual egos and glories, and singular in its focus – to walk up together to lift the trophy.

It is reminiscent of the first ever edition of the IPL, back in 2008, when a group of mostly relative unknowns, a few capped names and Shane Warne, put together a show you could not script, to lift this trophy for the first ever time. Among all the glitz, glamour and stars that signed up for this novel tournament, you could not have picked Rajasthan Royals to be the team to defeat them all – and yet, history is proof of what can be achieved when individuals in a team sport put their oxygen mask first but also immediately help the person next to them for a zero-casualty ending.

The emotions are still high. Missing Bangalore just a little more today. Receiving and sending messages to people you are in touch with, and some that you had lost touch with, because you all played your own highlights reel, and remembered those who were there with you through the joys and heartbreaks of the past in red & gold. For now, I’m going to sit back, continue smiling till it wears off, join other RCB fans, who are elsewhere in the country and the world, watch all this unfold through a screen and find it hard to stop watching it all just a little longer.

The women did it first, mind you, in only the second edition of the WPL, and they showed us what it’s like. But as poetic stories and redemption arcs go, the men’s team elicit this reaction for emotions that have been waiting to unleash over 18 long years, long enough to turn us from excited teenagers to (apparently) responsible adults (or old people, as we thought of 30-year olds back then).

We’ll be back next April, with the same hope we have every year – THIS will be our year. But this time it’s a little different, we come with an extra spring in our step, heads held a little bit higher and our gold a little shinier, with the trophy gleaming on our side of the field.

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The illustrations in this post are by Pankti Joshi. Follow her work on Instagram here:

skinny_doodler

Part 1 | The Evolution of the Sudden Death: From Ties to Bowl-outs to Multiple Super Overs

Part 2 | When a Tie Isn’t the End – It’s the Beginning of Heartbreak

Part 2 explored rare ties and what it can cost at the greatest stages of the sport. Part 3 continues in the ODI format but moves to different territory: the chases that looked impossible and almost were, the totals that looked safe until they weren’t, and the single run that broke a World Cup host.

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The Johannesburg Miracle: South Africa vs Australia, Wanderers, 12 March 2006

To understand why the ‘438 game’ was a big deal, you have to understand what scoring rates looked like in 2006. The highest team total in ODI history at that point was Sri Lanka’s 398/5 against Kenya (an associate team) – set in 1996 and unbroken for a decade. In March 2006, only six T20 internationals had ever been played. Strike rates above 150 and economy rates above 7 were considered extraordinary. What followed that Sunday at the Wanderers did not just break records – it changed what people thought was structurally possible in 50-over cricket.

Australia, winning the toss, came out and batted like the format had different rules. Adam Gilchrist and Simon Katich put on 97 in 92 balls. Then came Ricky Ponting with 164 off 105 balls, 9 sixes and 13 fours, yet another great knock by the captain (who, was named joint Man of the Match with Gibbs, but said it belonged to Gibbs alone, as he ended up on the losing side). Mike Hussey smashed 81 off 51, and Andrew Symonds hit 27 off 13 at the end. The 300 came up in the 40th over. Australia finished at 434/4. The first time any team had ever scored 400 in an ODI. The Wanderers crowd, full of South African fans who had watched this innings in stunned awe, trickled to the exits at the halfway point. Many reportedly gave their tickets away to strangers outside. You couldn’t blame them.

In the dressing room, it was Jacques Kallis, straight-faced, who shifted the mood, saying something along the lines of: “The bowlers have done their job boys – I reckon they’re 10 or 15 short.” Bewilderment gave way to laughter. And then, remarkably, to the liberating clarity of having nothing to lose.

Graeme Smith and Herschelle Gibbs (a recurring star in this multi-part series, it turns out) walked out and simply attacked. Smith blazed 90 off 55. Gibbs produced the innings of the match – 175 off 111 balls, 21 fours and 7 sixes in an innings of sustained, fearless brilliance that carried South Africa to 229/2 at the halfway mark of their chase. Then wickets tumbled – Nathan Bracken finished with 5/67. The middle order wobbled, leaving Mark Boucher to anchor the chase from deep in the line-up. The required rate kept climbing but he kept going.

It came down to seven needed off the final Brett Lee over. Boucher took a single off the first. Andrew Hall drove the second for four. Lee struck back on the third – Hall caught at mid-on. South Africa needed 2 off the last 3 balls with Makhaya Ntini as the last man in. Ntini nudged the fourth ball for a single. Scores level. Boucher on strike. One ball remaining. He lofted Lee over mid-on for four.

South Africa 438/9. Australia 434/4. One wicket. One ball. A world of possibilities between them.

The Wanderers erupted. Witnesses of this ending – in the stadium, through the telly, on the field in opposite colours – stood shell-shocked. In the years since, the ground branded itself “home of the greatest ODI ever played”. The record for the highest successful chase in ODI cricket still stands. Today, the format and conditions have changed enormously – the 400 barrier has been crossed 29 times in ODI history. But no one else has ever chased one down.

The Associate Triumph: Ireland vs England, 2011 World Cup, Bangalore, 02 March 2011

Associate nations winning at Cricket World Cups is extremely rare. Kenya stunned the West Indies in 1996. They also reached the semi-finals in 2003 on the back of forfeits due to security concerns by some teams. Ireland beat Pakistan in 2007, in a match overshadowed by the tragic death of coach Bob Woolmer within 24 hours. Bangladesh had beaten Pakistan in 1999 and India in 2007 – unexpected results, but Bangladesh were already a full member nation. The Big 3 – England, India, Australia – had never lost to an Associate. And then came Ireland.

The 2011 World Cup changed that in the most spectacular fashion possible when Ireland, an Associate nation, pursued England’s commanding total of 327/8 in Bangalore. England’s innings was anchored by a measured 92 from Jonathan Trott, and his 167-run third-wicket partnership with Ian Bell (81), after Kevin Pietersen’s brisk 59 at the top of the order. John Mooney applied the brakes on the English batting, with figures of 4/63. It was a commanding total against a side that had never consistently competed at the highest level of the sport.

Ireland’s response disintegrated almost immediately, stumbling to 111/5 in the 25th over. The match appeared to follow the expected script: a gallant, but ultimately futile, effort from the underdog. Then Kevin O’Brien walked in. What followed was the fastest century in World Cup history at the time (and still the third fastest today) – 50 off 30 balls, then an extraordinary hitting Powerplay, then 100 off 50. A 162-run partnership with Alex Cusack (47) transformed the match. O’Brien finished with 113 off 63 balls, 13 fours and 6 sixes, before being run out with Ireland almost home. They crossed the line with five balls to spare, winning by three wickets, the highest successful chase in World Cup history at that time.

The impact of that innings went well beyond the day. Participation in cricket in Ireland surged in the years that followed, doubling from roughly 12,000 people involved in the game in 2011 to about 25,000 two years later. O’Brien was later also recognised as a central figure in Ireland’s push for Full Member status, which they achieved in June 2017. He played in Ireland’s first-ever Test match, against Pakistan in 2018, and scored their first Test century.

The Duckworth-Lewis Heartbreak: South Africa vs. Sri Lanka, 2003 World Cup

South Africa’s relationship with World Cup heartbreak is a well-documented phenomenon – 1992: the rain rule that left them requiring 22 off one ball; 1999: the tied semi-final you read about in Part 2; 2007, 2011, 2015: each with its own particular flavour of elimination that adds to this saga. But 2003 occupies a specific category even within that catalogue, because it is the one where they were not undone by the opposition or by circumstance. They were undone by a single run they chose not to take.

The 2003 World Cup match between South Africa and Sri Lanka at Kingsmead, Durban, remains one of the most poignant examples of how a mathematical miscalculation can determine a team’s fate in the sport’s grandest tournament. In what had effectively become a knockout game, Sri Lanka batted first, posting a competitive 268/9. Marvan Atapattu made a sublime 124, Aravinda de Silva added 73 – posting a fourth wicket stand of 152. South Africa’s chase was progressing steadily, Herschelle Gibbs top-scoring with 73 before Muralitharan bowled him. Mark Boucher and Shaun Pollock put on 63 for the sixth wicket to keep things on track, before Muralitharan ran Pollock out. Rain had threatened to take over throughout, and began to fall harder just then, triggering a frantic recalculation of the target by everyone, under the Duckworth-Lewis method.

A message went out to Boucher and Klusener on the crease with the new math: South Africa now required 229 runs by the end of the 45th over, assuming no more wickets fell. As the 45th over progressed, South Africa appeared to be en route to victory. In the penultimate ball of the 45th over, Boucher plonked a six off Muralitharan to reach 229. He punched the air, safe in the knowledge that if the match was now called off, South Africa would be declared winners. With one ball remaining in the over, he safely blocked the final delivery. At the end of the 45th over, South Africa made the 229. As anticipated, the umpires called off play soon after, and the rain did not relent. The match was done.

However, a critical misunderstanding of the Duckworth-Lewis par score occurred in the South African dressing room. What started off as celebration descended into disbelief, after a brief stop at confusion. The instructions had been miscommunicated: 229 was the par score under Duckworth-Lewis – the score to tie the match. They needed 230 to win the match, and consequently, to proceed to the next stage. They ended up falling one run short of victory – a tie.

Without the outright win, South Africa failed to advance to the Super Six stage. For their run to end this way, especially in a home World Cup, was catastrophic even by their own standards of disappointment.

Fifty overs. A world-record chase. An underdog century. A run nobody scored. A last-ball finish in ODI cricket is dramatic, but not unexpected. Five days of Test cricket, on the other hand, should never need a final delivery to settle things. Part 4 is about the times it did.

This is the third in a multi-part series exploring cricket’s greatest finishes. In the coming weeks, we’ll look at:

• Part 4: Test Cricket: Day 5 Shockers and the Slimmest of Margins

• Part 5: T20s: A Frenzy of Last-Ball Heists

• Part 6: Human Fallibility, Sporting Legend: When Mistakes Create Magic

The illustrations in this post are by Pankti Joshi. Follow her work on Instagram here:

@skinny_doodler

India won the T20 World Cup on Sunday, in case you were living under a rock (or are Australian, in which case you checked out of this tournament weeks ago and have probably already moved on entirely).

The final, then. Classic Indian dominance. The openers made 92/0 at the end of the powerplay, which pretty much sealed it for New Zealand only six overs into the game. There was a brief window around the 14th over where New Zealand had something to bowl at – a difficult something, but something nonetheless, before Shivam Dube arrived and took the conversation off the table entirely. India past 250, New Zealand never really in it. I type all of this in a deliberately bland, matter-of-fact tone – because frankly, that is how it felt.

Here is the thing about saying that as both a cricket fan and an Indian: at the start of the day, as much as I wanted India to win, I would not have felt bad about a different result. A combination of things – wanting the trophy to continue its run of changing hands in the most unpredictable format, the classic pull of the underdog, or the other classic of wanting to watch the nice guys finally lift it after five near-misses in 11 years. Even during the powerplay, a small part of me was quietly hoping for a wicket to fall. Because leaving Samson and Abhishek in that form, still alive at the end of six overs, meant New Zealand were almost certainly not going to win – and at the very least, you would want a thrilling final to cap off the tournament. For the non-Indian fans watching, Dale Steyn put it perfectly ahead of the final: “Mind says India. Heart says New Zealand.” That felt about right. The real disappointment was just how one-sided it ended up being.

For the Kiwis who woke up in the middle of the night to cheer their team in a sport that isn’t rugby – your team had a much better tournament, it was just a bad day. Finn Allen and Tim Seifert were the most consistent opening pair of the tournament. Rachin Ravindra the batsman may not have fully shown up, but with the ball he caused serious damage to opposition line-ups and finished as New Zealand’s highest wicket-taker. Mitchell Santner led from the front as captain, bowler, and batsman. Glenn Phillips was one of the safest hands in the field. Jimmy Neesham, Cole McConchie, and the rest all played their part to get them to this point.

The team needed to fire on all cylinders to pull off an upset against the pre-tournament favourites and they did just that, until the final step was one too far.

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A quick detour to South Africa – because they deserve one

There was a faction convinced that South Africa would have posed the greater challenge to India in the final, and there is some merit to that argument. They were the singular dominant team in the tournament – the only side to beat India in the league/Super 8 stage, with their deep batting line-up that delivered, some good bowling throughout, and an unblemished record in Ahmedabad where the final was played. All of which makes for fascinating hypotheticals and nothing more.

Because South Africa’s semi-final was, sadly, their poorest show of the tournament. New Zealand pulverised them. It wasn’t close. For a team that had been so dominant, that day was in stark contrast to the rest of their tournament. Their unravelling looked very similar to New Zealand’s in the final – the one bad game arriving at the one moment it cannot be afforded. South Africa would have hoped that the World Test Championship win would have signalled a reversal of fortunes – alas, that has to wait longer.

India – first consecutive winners of the T20 World Cup

Where New Zealand and South Africa each saved their worst for last, India did the opposite – showing some signs of fragility through the league stage, looking a little short of the dominant side they were expected to be, only to arrive at the knockouts and flip a switch entirely.

While the batting looked shaky at the start of the tournament, where Shivam Dube was India’s most in-form batter and everyone else looked like they were struggling to get into the flow, by the knockout stages, when the stakes were highest, it all clicked into place. Almost everyone’s report card has off days peppered with some excellent contributions, but as a collective, it was a case of the best saved for last.

In that sea are two names that cannot be brushed past. Jasprit Bumrah. So much has been said, and somehow it all falls short of what he actually did. It isn’t just the accuracy or the wickets, it’s that he produced this in a format structurally designed to make bowlers suffer, and did it consistently, even at the death, when it mattered most. Every accolade is deserved.

The other is the story of the tournament (and rightfully the Player of the Tournament), Sanju Samson. Five games out of eleven – three of those match-winning. He showed up in the final, in the semi-final, and against West Indies in what was effectively a quarter final. Every time India looked like they might be on the wrong side of history, he pulled them back. That he started the tournament not looking like he would play a single game, then got in and made the big three count, is as much a story about mental resilience as it is of skill and seized opportunity.

England – they held on, until they couldn’t

England had a tournament that was less a campaign and more a series of controlled emergencies, navigated one by one. They made the semi-finals, but did not look comfortable at all in the tournament, and yet managed to pull one escape act after another. In the semi-final against India, they needed one more, with 45 required off the last three overs. Bumrah’s 18th over and Jacob Bethell’s run-out put an end to that.

Will Jacks was their standout – collecting 4 Player of the Match awards (of England’s 8 games) with a consistency that felt almost at odds with the scrappiness around him. And the 3Bs – Brook, Banton and Bethell – each had their gold star moment to get England to the top four. Tom Banton’s 63* against Scotland kept them in the hunt. Harry Brook’s 53 against Nepal and his 100 against Pakistan in the Super 8s provided the spine the innings needed on both occasions. Bethell chipped in with 55 in that same Nepal match and then, in the semi-final against India, made 100 in a losing cause – an innings that, in any other context, would have been the story of the match. The openers however had a tournament to forget, and that is probably all that needs to be said about that.

The rest of the field – a lightning round

Nepal made everyone stand up. Their first game against England went to the final ball, and the crowd support was so extraordinary that even Jos Buttler remarked that it almost felt like a home game for Nepal. That is not a small feat in a country of over a billion Indian cricket supporters.

The USA almost gave India a scare in the opening match of the tournament, and Shadley van Schalkwyk, until the final, was the highest wicket-taker with 13, including a 4-fer each against India and Pakistan – a performance that deserves far more attention than it received.

Afghanistan keep arriving at these tournaments and keep making teams take them seriously. The double Super Over will go in the history books, but it is just the latest chapter in a story they have been writing for years.

Italy joined the party this year and had two sets of Australian-born brothers representing them. Of that group, Ben Manenti had a standout outing and remains number 15 on Cricinfo’s MVP list at the end of the tournament.

Australia had a campaign to forget. They have probably already forgotten it.

Sri Lanka started brightly and had fans hopeful before it became clear just how heavily their attack relied on Nissanka to fire at the top.

Zimbabwe were the revelation. Topping their group and unbeaten through the league stage. Nobody wrote that script for them, and they delivered it anyway. Sikandar Raza, as ever, showed why you simply cannot leave him out of any conversation about this format – bat, ball, captaincy, and his demand across franchise cricket is the proof of that. Blessing Muzarabani was exceptional with the ball. Brian Bennett announced himself at the top of the order. And the Castle Corner – their supporters, small in number and enormous in presence, got us all dancing with them. Their story off the field was as eventful as on it: after the league stage in Sri Lanka, they did not have the funds to travel to India to watch the Super 8s and were preparing to head home, until multiple sponsors stepped in and funded their trip. They stayed. They kept dancing. And every ground they were in was better for it.

Pakistan had an inconsistent tournament – pulling through the league stage, almost letting the Netherlands back in at one point in their opener, before settling into something more predictable through the rest of the league stage and Super 8s. Sahibzada Farhan deserves a mention for an excellent tournament individually – leading the Pakistani batting line-up and ending the tournament as the highest run-scorer and the only player to score two centuries in a single edition of a T20 World Cup, despite his team not making it to the semifinals. But that is not where things ended for them.

The aftermath of Pakistan’s tournament – On the PCB fining players for losing

There is a distinction worth drawing here. Not all accountability is created equal, and the difference between holding players responsible for their inputs versus their outputs matters more than it might initially seem.

Fining players for disciplinary infringements – missed training sessions, pre-tournament no-shows, conduct issues, makes complete sense. That is a direct response to a controllable input. England’s curfew policy in Sri Lanka following the Harry Brook incident attracted plenty of pushback, with many arguing that elite adult athletes should not be subject to curfews. I don’t entirely disagree, but there was a disciplinary infringement, and a disciplinary response followed directly from it. That logic holds.

What doesn’t hold is penalising players for the output. When you select a team, there is an implicit trust embedded in that selection that these are the best 11, that they want to win every time they step on the field. That trust is the foundation. Undermining it with performance-based fines does several things, none of them good.

It disincentivises players – introducing an increased fear of failure into an environment that demands fearlessness. It risks breeding animosity in a dressing room where certain individuals may have performed exceptionally while the team fell short – through no individual fault, or simply because the opposition had a better day, or because sometimes that’s just how good old-fashioned luck works. And it conflates inputs with outputs in a way that fundamentally misunderstands how sport works.

The most pointed example from this tournament lies in Sahibzada Farhan. The highest run-scorer of the entire tournament, is also subject to this fine. Penalising your players because the team didn’t win is not accountability. It is the antithesis of the ‘one-for-all, all-for-one’ culture that any dressing room needs to function.

Two things to take away from the 2026 T20 World Cup

One, the 20-team format worked. The league stage had more genuine jeopardy than the Super 8s, with three matches a day keeping the momentum alive and associate nations providing some of the tournament’s most compelling moments. Whether it translates into more competitive cricket for these teams across the year is a harder question – one that deserves its own piece. But as a format, it delivered.

Two, Bumrah. Again. Here is the thing about him that the wicket tallies and economy figures do not quite capture: that opposition teams have stopped trying to score off him, that score predictions account for two Bumrah overs remaining. England needed 45 off three overs in the semi-final and spent the Bumrah over making just six. With all the analysts, the research on match-ups, the tailored game plans that modern cricket produces – the solution that the best teams in the world have arrived at for facing Jasprit Bumrah is: survive. Don’t lose a wicket. Wait for someone else to bowl.

That is not a statistic. That is a legacy being written in real time. And it is probably the most remarkable thing to have come out of a tournament India won rather comfortably in the end.

The illustrations in this post are by Pankti Joshi. Follow her work on Instagram here:

@skinny_doodler

Part 1 | The Evolution of the Sudden Death: From Ties to Bowl-outs to Multiple Super Overs

A tie in cricket is not just a result. Depending on when and where it happens, it can be a curiosity, a footnote, or an outright tragedy. Before the Super Over became the mandatory resolution to any stalemate, what happened next was entirely at the mercy of the competition’s regulations. Sometimes, those regulations had nothing to offer beyond a shared trophy. And sometimes, the table had already decided the fate of the XI before a ball was bowled.

Part 1 of this series explored how the tiebreaker has evolved. Part 2 is about what a tie actually costs.

The Mythical Tied Tests

Test cricket, by virtue of its duration, is designed to reach a conclusion through attrition. Five days of tactical wrestling, and you end up with one of three results almost always – win, lose or draw. But remarkably rarely, exactly two times in the history of Test cricket – it does not get there. Where it does get to, is a tie. Not a draw, an actual tie – one where the scores are level at the end of four innings. Two occurrences across thousands of Test matches spanning nearly 150 years of the format. Both instances before my time, in fact not something we have seen in the last 40 years, but each worth a retelling for the anomaly that it remains.

Brisbane 1960 (Australia vs West Indies)

The first ever tied Test. Chasing 233, Australia entered the final over needing six runs with three wickets remaining. What followed was a reality no script could stand up to. The three wickets actually fell in that over. This included a final run-out just as the Australian batsmen attempted the winning run. Joe Solomon’s direct hit from square leg to dismiss Ian Meckiff with the scores level resulted in the first tie in Test history. The first Test of the first ever Frank Worrell Trophy ended with a moment of fielding genius.

Madras 1986 (India vs Australia)

The second tie took another twenty-six years, equally dramatic and far more controversial. India, chasing 348, needed four runs off the final over with just one wicket in hand. Ravi Shastri took a single to level the scores, leaving number eleven Maninder Singh on strike with three balls remaining. After a dot ball, Greg Matthews trapped Singh LBW on the penultimate ball, a decision that has been scrutinised for decades – ending the match with the scores level at 347.

Two tied Tests. Both coming down to its final moments where the margin between winning, losing, and drawing collapsed into a single delivery. 40 years since the last occurrence.

When a Tie Sends You Home – The One That Still Hurts

South Africa vs Australia, 1999 World Cup Semi-Final, Edgbaston

While a tie in Test cricket is extremely rare, the effect is no different to a draw – no consequences. In a knockout tournament however, a tie is something else entirely. It could be the cruellest possible exit – going out not because you lost, but because you didn’t quite win. Ask the South Africans – the memory of 17 June 1999 still haunts those who are old enough to have watched that game, in what remains one of cricket’s most gut-wrenching moments.

We start at Headingley, four days earlier.

Australia and South Africa met in the Super Six stage, where Australia absolutely had to win to stay alive in the tournament. South Africa batted first and posted 271/7, anchored by a 101 from Herschelle Gibbs. Unfortunately, his most memorable moment from that game was yet to come. Australia were in trouble at the start of their chase when Steve Waugh walked in to get things back on track. At 56, he flicked the ball straight to Gibbs at mid-wicket, who first caught it cleanly and then, in a moment of premature celebration, spilled the ball before he fully had it under control. Waugh survived and went on to make a match-winning, unbeaten 120. Australia won by 5 wickets. Although Steve Waugh (and everyone else involved) has denied this, that drop led to a quote that has lived through cricketing folklore:

“You’ve just dropped the World Cup.”

Whether or not it was ever said, what happened next made the sentiment feel prophetic.

Four days later, they met again, this time at Edgbaston. The semi-final.

Australia batted first and were all out for 213. South Africa, batting second, needed 214 to win. They entered the final over at 205 for 9, needing nine runs to win with Lance Klusener and Allan Donald the last two at the crease.

Ball one: Klusener steps back and drives through the covers, four. Ball two: another drive, another four. Scores level. One run needed off four balls. Steve Waugh immediately brings all eleven fielders inside the circle. Ball three: Klusener gets it to mid-on, no run. Donald backed up too far down the pitch and very nearly ran himself out – a missed direct hit saved him.

Ball four: Klusener hits to Mark Waugh at mid-off and calls for the run. Donald hesitates and drops his bat as he sprints to the other end but falls short and is run out by Waugh, Fleming and Gilchrist with two balls still remaining.

Match tied at 213.

Here is where the tournament rules come into play, and where the cruelty of the result fully lands. In the 1999 World Cup, tied knockout matches were resolved by Super Six stage standings. By beating South Africa at Headingley four days earlier, Australia sat above South Africa in the table.

It gets worse. They were level on points in the Super Six table, separated only by net run rate: Australia’s 0.358 to South Africa’s 0.174. A margin of 0.184. That is what determined who went through at the semi-final, after the Super Six was behind them.

South Africa needed to win outright. A tie, however dramatic, however close, was just enough for Australia to make it to their fourth World Cup final.

South Africa were eliminated without losing. Australia were through without winning. And nothing that happened on 17 June 1999 at Edgbaston counted for a single thing.

Everyone who was in that ground, or watching from home, remembers exactly where they were. Allan Donald later spoke of seeking professional help to come to terms with it. In South Africa, that moment has never really left – it gets referenced at every World Cup, every knockout exit, every near-miss, as the original wound that all the others have scratched at. Even the word ‘Edgbaston’ carries a weight that refuses to fully lift.

Which is perhaps why, when South Africa’s legends side returned to that same ground in August 2025 and lifted the World Championship of Legends trophy, with Allan Donald as the coach and AB de Villiers leading the charge through the whole tournament, it felt like more than a veterans’ tournament win. In the dressing room, through the victory speeches as the team celebrated, AB de Villiers spoke about how he remembers watching 1999 as a 15-year-old and was driven this time to replace that memory with a better one for South Africa at Edgbaston.

Some grounds hold history. Edgbaston, for South Africa, holds something heavier than that. And on that August evening in 2025, just for one night, it finally held something else.

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This is the second in a multi-part series exploring cricket’s greatest finishes. In the coming weeks, we’ll look at:

• Part 3: ODI Cricket: Highest Chases, Mathematical Chaos, and Last-Over Dramas

• Part 4: Test Cricket: Day 5 Shockers and the Slimmest of Margins

• Part 5: T20s: A Frenzy of Last-Ball Heists

• Part 6: Human Fallibility, Sporting Legend: When Mistakes Create Magic

As the sport evolves – with rising data availability, shorter formats, and increasing specialist finishers and death bowlers, what were once rare events have become increasingly common in modern-day cricket, producing an ever-growing list of moments that have singularly defined entire matches and tournaments, taking the competitive limits of the game to new heights.

The Evolution of the Sudden Death: From Ties to Bowl-outs to Multiple Super Overs

The mechanism for resolving a stalemate in white ball cricket has undergone significant transformation, reflecting a move away from arbitrary resolutions toward a contest that maintains the spirit of limited-overs cricket: decisive results at the end of play. The earliest iterations of tie-breakers, such as the bowl-out, were largely viewed as unsatisfactory – more a drills test in the nets than a fitting decider of an entire game’s result. This led to the current form of the tie-breaker: the Super Over. But as the rules evolved, so did the results. With the advent of multiple single Super Over ties and the controversial 2019 ODI World Cup result, further evolution of the tie-breaker was necessitated to take it to its current form – Super Overs to be repeated until one team definitively won.

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Dale Steyn’s “I cannot anymore” takeover of the commentary box: South Africa vs Afghanistan, Ahmedabad, 2026

The most recent manifestation of the Super Over(s) produced a match-up of world-class resilience. Afghanistan faced South Africa in a group encounter of the ICC Men’s T20 World Cup that became the first time a double Super Over was required in the tournament’s history.

Final over of regulation time left Afghanistan needing 13 runs in its chase with 1 wicket in hand. Two no-balls, a wide and a six later, it boiled down to 2 runs off 3 balls. Chaos in the pursuit of the winning run saw a run-out leaving both teams tied at 187.

Super Over 1 saw Afghanistan post 17 runs. South Africa matched this. On to Super Over 2, where South Africa scored 23 runs courtesy of David Miller and Tristan Stubbs. They threw in a surprise with the ball by turning to Keshav Maharaj’s spin after fast bowlers had bowled the first three super overs across both teams. With 24 required off 4 balls, Afghanistan’s Rahmanullah Gurbaz struck three consecutive sixes. Dale Steyn in commentary wore his South African heart on his sleeve, capturing the absolute incredulity of the moment:

“NOOOO. I CANNOT ANYMORE. THREE SIXES”

Fortunately for him (and to the utter disheartenment of Afghanistan), with five runs required off the final ball, Gurbaz was caught at point, ending a match that was possibly the closest we had all seen.

The Triple Super Over Landmark: Netherlands vs Nepal, Glasgow, 2025

While the Ahmedabad match represented the pinnacle of T20 World Cup drama, the structural limits of the Super Over were tested even further in June 2025 during a T20I match between the Netherlands and Nepal. They played the first-ever triple Super Over in international cricket. Both teams had finished their 20 overs tied at 152 runs. The first Super Over saw Nepal post 19 runs and Netherlands match it. The second saw Netherlands score 17, which Nepal levelled. It took a third Super Over for the Dutch off-spinner Zach Lion-Cachet to deliver a wicket-maiden, dismissing both Nepalese batters. The Netherlands needed just one run to win and hit a six off the first ball to secure victory.

The 2019 World Cup Final: Boundary Counts and the Controversial Anomaly

In the history of limited-overs cricket – men’s or women’s, perhaps no match has generated more discussion regarding the fairness of tie-breaking regulations than the 2019 ICC Cricket World Cup final between England and New Zealand at Lord’s. The match remains the only World Cup final to have a Super Over, and subsequently, be decided by a boundary count-back rule that was later abolished due to the sheer magnitude of the controversy it sparked.

The “Overthrow” Anomaly that started it all

New Zealand, batting first, finished on 241/8. The final over of the chase left England needing 15 runs with 2 wickets in hand. The fourth delivery of that over remains one of the most bizarre occurrences in cricketing history: a throw from the deep deflected off the bat of a diving Ben Stokes and travelled to the boundary ropes.

Following their interpretation of the rules, the umpires awarded England six runs (two completed by the batsmen and four for the overthrow). This reduced the equation to 3 runs off 2 balls. Two run-outs in the fifth and sixth deliveries left England all out for 241, tied with New Zealand and triggering the Super Over.

The Super Over and the Final Calculation

In the Super Over, Ben Stokes and Jos Buttler, who had earlier set up a 110-run partnership for England, faced Trent Boult and scored 15 runs. New Zealand’s Jimmy Neesham and Martin Guptill also made exactly 15 runs against Jofra Archer. Because the Super Over was also tied, the match was decided by the number of boundaries hit during the entire contest (England’s 26 to New Zealand’s 17).

The decision to award the trophy based on boundary count was met with widespread criticism, with many arguing that New Zealand, having lost fewer wickets in the 50-over game, should have won the title. A game where both teams were coming in to win their first ever World Cup and having it take an emotional finish by the narrowest and most controversial of margins was just too hard to believe. Jimmy Neesham’s most famous tweet followed their gut-wrenching loss –

“Kids, don’t take up sport. Take up baking or something. Die at 60 really fat and happy.”

After this tournament, the ICC abolished the boundary countback rule, mandating continuous Super Overs until a winner emerges.

The original tie-breaker: the Durban Bowl-Out, 2007

The inaugural T20 World Cup in 2007 employed a different tie-breaking mechanism when India and Pakistan were tied at 141 in a group-stage match in Durban. Under the rules at the time, the winner was decided by a bowl-out, where five players from each team bowled at unguarded stumps. India’s bowlers (Virender Sehwag, Harbhajan Singh, and Robin Uthappa) all hit the stumps, while Pakistan’s bowlers missed their first three, leading to a 3-0 victory for India. This was only the second instance of the bowl-out being employed in international cricket, and it was criticised for reducing the result of a match to a skills drill, leading to an eventual shift to the more representative Super Over.

This is the first in a multi-part series exploring cricket’s greatest finishes. In the coming weeks, we’ll look at:

• Part 2: When a Tie Isn’t the End – It’s the Beginning of Heartbreak

• Part 3: ODI Cricket: Highest Chases, Mathematical Chaos, and Last-Over Dramas

• Part 4: Test Cricket: Day 5 Shockers and the Slimmest of Margins

• Part 5: T20s: A Frenzy of Last-Ball Heists

• Part 6: Human Fallibility, Sporting Legend: When Mistakes Create Magic

The illustrations in this post are by Pankti Joshi. Follow her work on Instagram here:

@skinny_doodler

PAK need 29 off 12 to win with 3 wickets in hand against NED
IND 77-6 (12.4 overs) vs USA
NEP need 6 off 2 to win against ENG

Three of the first five matches this tournament had the potential to be what we know to be ‘an upset’, yet they each fell agonisingly short of making it one. Unless, of course, you were rooting for Pakistan, India or England, in which case, it was a sigh of relief that your team pulled it out of the bag eventually.

Here’s how they all met their fate: Pakistan were cruising, needing 50 off 9 overs before they had a collapse in the middle overs losing 5 wickets (including a Paul van Meekeren double-wicket maiden) and making only 21 runs in the next 7 overs. Pakistan could hardly justify losing after that start, and Faheem Ashraf eventually hung on to the crease and got them over the line in what became a thrilling opening encounter.

India’s eventual scorecard showed no signs of what could have been, with captain Suryakumar Yadav powering his troops across with an 84* (49), of which 48 runs came off just the last 18 balls he faced.

Nepal found themselves in familiar territory. Nicknamed ‘Cardiac Kids’ for their history of providing nail-biting finishes (unfortunately not going their way), the crowd was in full force, with reason to believe that they might be witnessing history. Alas, a clinical Sam Curran bowling the last over stood between them and history this time. But don’t write them off just yet.

Let’s be honest though – I never quite understood why ‘upset’ was the word we settled on. If anything, the experience is quite joyous. Aren’t we supposed to all be wired to love an underdog story? Here it is, and we call them ‘upsets’. These ‘upsets’ bring nations together in celebration. They vindicate the talent and effort of players who often have a tenth of the facilities that bigger cricketing nations enjoy, players who sometimes balance full-time jobs alongside this endeavour because they love the sport as much as we do – and have the talent to take it further than most. These aren’t ‘upsets’ – they are validation.

Of course, let’s be real – if you happen to be the giant who lost, it hurts the ego. That sting is humbling, it brings you right back down to earth. But consider what these moments bring to the sport – proof that cricket can still conjure moments of awe and unpredictability, that talent can be found in all corners of the world, that underdogs can live out their wildest dreams on the biggest stage.

So why did all three ‘near-upsets’ fall short? And perhaps, of more significance for the broader sport, what will it take to have one go all the way?

Dropped catches/opportunities, death bowling struggles, death batting struggles – largely summarises the reversals. Holding down the fort in clutch moments is what separates champions from mere competitors. To borrow from another sport, at his 2024 Dartmouth commencement address, Roger Federer spoke of how he won almost 80% of his singles matches, but those came from winning only 54% of all his points. It’s not about winning every moment, but about winning the ones that matter.

And that is where our ‘upsets’ fell short this time around. But there is only so much they could have changed on their own. While you can practise scenarios in the nets and play as much cricket as you can, one of the factors that enable teams (or players) to hold onto these clutch moments is their battle-hardness – the more you play world-class competition, the closer you get to becoming world-class yourself. The Associate teams are richer for the experiences they have playing these marquee tournaments – it gives them exposure and the spotlight to display their talents, no doubt, but also gives them more chances to be battle-hardened.

We have had zero ‘upsets’ in twelve matches. But we have also seen that the gap between ‘nearly’ and ‘actually’ is narrower than ever. In a 20-team T20 World Cup, a format of the game where truly anything can happen, it’s not a matter of if history gets rewritten – it’s when.

And what we call that moment when it finally happens – an ‘upset’, a ‘statement’, or a ‘breakthrough’ – matters less than the fact that we’ll all be watching when it does. The tournament has barely begun. If the first weekend is any indication, the underdogs aren’t done knocking yet.

Royal Challengers Bengaluru stormed through their first five matches, becoming only the second team in WPL history to start a campaign unbeaten with five wins (Mumbai Indians did it in 2023). They’ve had five different Player of the Match winners across the six league stage victories – Nadine de Klerk, Grace Harris, Radha Yadav, Smriti Mandhana, Gautami Naik – proof of the depth that separates contenders from champions.

Delhi Capitals, meanwhile, had to claw their way here. They’ve topped the table in all three previous WPL seasons, reached all three finals, and lost to Mumbai Indians twice and RCB once. This time, they scraped through after a rocky start, suffering two early losses before finding their rhythm and barely edging past Gujarat Giants in the Eliminator to seal their fourth-consecutive finals appearance. Is the struggle to the finals and the momentum of an extra game exactly what they need to clinch this?

This final - RCB’s dominance versus DC’s momentum, Lauren Bell’s swing versus Marizanne Kapp’s precision – is just the culmination of what might be the best WPL season yet. And if you haven’t been watching, you’ve missed something special. But there’s still one match to go!

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This has been the most competitive WPL season in its short four-year history. With three league matches to go, only RCB had secured a spot in the playoffs – three other teams were fighting for the last two spots, while UP Warriorz held onto mathematical hope. Every match mattered, with playoff spots finalised only after the last league game between DC and UPW.

Old records fell, new records set. The WPL finally got its first century, fittingly from Nat Sciver-Brunt, who has the most runs in the league. Before her, nine players had fallen in their 90s: Talia McGrath, Alyssa Healy, Sophie Devine (twice), Harmanpreet Kaur, Ellyse Perry, Beth Mooney, Meg Lanning, Georgia Voll and Smriti Mandhana. Sciver-Brunt finally broke that ceiling.

Nandani Sharma became the first uncapped Indian – and fourth overall – to get a hat-trick, then only the second Indian to get a 5-fer (after Asha Sobhana), quickly followed by Shreyanka Patil later in the tournament.

But beyond the scorecards (pun intended!), while the spotlight in T20s typically favour the batters, the match-up I am most anticipating in the final is between the dot ball queens – Lauren Bell vs Marizanne Kapp. In that order, they sit with the best economy rates and most dot balls this season. What makes this even more impressive is that they have both bowled three of their four overs in the powerplay in every match (bar one singular exception where Bell bowled just two). Bell has gotten plenty of attention for strangling runs at the top, and deservedly so, but Kapp is right there with her – and she has chipped in with the bat too. DC’s rockier path to the final might explain why Kapp has gone slightly under the radar until the later part of the tournament, but both are elite. Tomorrow will tell us who prevails.

When Lauren Bell runs in with the new ball, anything can happen. Her first over against DC in their earlier match-up this year displayed exactly that: outswinger, bouncer, inswinging yorker to get Lizelle Lee, another inswinger that bowled Laura Wolvaardt. Four balls into the innings and two of the best dismissed already.

Marizanne Kapp isn’t far behind. In DC’s first match against UPW, her second delivery triggered an LBW appeal. DRS showed umpire’s call – the barest of margins – but she came back next ball and got the job done. A wicket maiden to start proceedings for her.

The other quiet champion is Nadine de Klerk. On Day 1 – she took RCB over the line with the bat – 63* off 44, smashing the required 18 with 4 balls remaining. She started earlier that day with a 4-fer and continued her exceptional form with the ball throughout the tournament. No bowler has taken more wickets than her in the middle overs (7-16), nor bowled as many dot balls. Even at the death, only Nandani Sharma for DC matches her economy. The uncapped Nandani sits at #2 in the Purple Cap standings with a genuine shot at overtaking Sophie Devine tomorrow. Devine’s tournament with Gujarat Giants ended early, but her 17 wickets and 243 runs are testament to her all-round brilliance even in a losing campaign.

Cricinfo’s MVP for the series is led by the foreign players for total impact, with only two Indians (Shree Charani and Shafali Verma) in the Top 10. The Top 20 adds five more Indians, with Nandani Sharma the only uncapped player breaking through.

The Orange and Purple caps, however, look different, with Harmanpreet Kaur and Smriti Mandhana at #1 and #3 on the board for runs. Nandani Sharma and Shree Charani sit at #2 and #5 for wickets. Three of them play in tomorrow’s final and might just climb further up their respective charts.

But beyond the tables, there has been a wave of Indian players stepping up in clutch moments all season, announcing themselves on this grand stage. The WPL, much like the IPL before it, is showcasing India’s future stars. They are getting match-ready exposure against the world’s best, learning in real-time what would otherwise take years to access.

Every season has its breakout stars. Nandani Sharma shows incredible promise as a pace addition to the Indian team of the near future and has a real shot at the Purple Cap tomorrow. Shreyanka Patil – less breakout star, more comeback queen – walked into the tournament in style with a 5-fer, after 14 months out with injuries. Gautami Naik posted the highest score by an uncapped Indian (73). Anushka Sharma delivered on the hype, holding down the Number 3 spot and delivering under the pressure of the WPL stage.

Similar to the first two editions, this season was limited to just two venues – Navi Mumbai for the first leg, Vadodara for the second leg including playoffs and final. While the WPL expanded to four cities last year, we have regressed to two this season.

There are valid logistical reasons cited: between the Ranji Trophy and the upcoming Men’s T20 World Cup, limited venues were available for the WPL. The tournament window also shifted to January-February (earlier than the typical February-March slot). Crucially – and positively – this is the first time the WPL schedule has not clashed with major international fixtures. With only five teams and a compressed timeline – often just a day’s gap between matches, having everyone based at the same venue simplifies logistics.

But here is what that cost: Two Navi Mumbai matches had to be played with no spectators due to elections. Two venues mean no home advantage, no local team loyalty, and frankly, a missed distribution opportunity. Meanwhile, India won the ODI World Cup at home in November, bringing unprecedented attention to the women’s game in the country. Players like Laura Wolvaardt, Phoebe Litchfield, Deepti Sharma, Shafali Verma, Nat Sciver-Brunt, Ellyse Perry and Marizanne Kapp became household names alongside Harmanpreet Kaur, Smriti Mandhana and Jemimah Rodrigues. The momentum was there to convert casual World Cup viewers into WPL fans. The window was open.

A home-and-away format – like the men’s IPL – creates positive scarcity: each venue gets four league matches, not 11+ matches on the trot (as in a two-venue format). Fans show up knowing it is their only chance to see their home team, creating the seas of singular colour and reverberating chants that uniquely charge home game atmospheres.

Yes, there are only five teams, which creates scheduling constraints. But the broadcast rights sold for ₹951 crores (roughly ₹7 crores per match) for the 2023-27 window, for a league that did not exist five years ago. Australia’s WBBL (2015) and England’s Hundred (2021) embraced women’s franchise cricket earlier, but the WPL is already showing its ability to generate the kind of viewership and revenue that’s harder to find elsewhere in the world.

The talent pool is there. The money is there. The attention is there. Business sense makes a case for capitalising on this momentum with a proper home-and-away structure and a couple more teams.

The WPL has established itself as genuinely competitive cricket. RCB’s five-match winning streak. DC’s fourth consecutive final appearance. Lauren Bell’s dot ball mastery. Nandani Sharma’s hat-trick and 5-fer. Nat Sciver-Brunt’s first WPL century. Shreyanka Patil’s comeback from 14 months of injuries. These aren’t just story-worthy taglines – this is elite sport.

The WPL has arrived. It is too good to be an afterthought, too competitive to be shortchanged by logistics. What happens next – whether the WPL gets the infrastructure to match the product on the field – will determine whether this becomes something truly massive or remains excellent cricket played in logistical compromise.

Tomorrow’s final will be world-class cricket. And while we enjoy the battle on the field for the last time in 2026, let us hope Edition 5 matches the performances – bigger and better than its predecessors.

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Re-reading this almost 11-year-old write-up was joyful. Even back then, I talk of New Zealand and South Africa getting their flowers, of Starc and Smith as potential leaders of the Australian team (that aged VERY well), and of celebrating the two Sri Lankan legends. So while there may be more to say on any of these threads in coming weeks, for now, what follows is the unedited original from 2015 that brings it all full circle.

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The World Cup That Was

(Originally written in April 2015)

Another World Cup comes to an end. Each one of these brings something new for the world to hang on to. For the rest of the world, it marks the beginning of a new ODI cricketing chapter. For Australia, it’ll get there post the celebrations.

The Moments

Every World Cup has moments that depict what this edition was all about. This time around, the two double centuries by Gayle and Guptill, early, in the knock-out stages and the quarterfinals respectively, started it. Then of course, there were the bowlers who wreaked havoc through this batsmen-dominated event, as the 38 centuries and two double hundreds indicate, all left-arm quicks, coincidentally or not. There was Starc and Boult, right on top of their game, but dare we forget the potential Riaz displayed, as well as Southee, with the best bowling figures in a match through the tournament. Then of course, was the fielding right through the tournament. Catches win matches was proved beyond a shadow of doubt, with a lot of matches being determined by the fielding display.

Those who Leave Behind Legacies

This World Cup also marked the end of the ODI careers of some of the greatest. Brendan Taylor, the Zimbabwean stalwart, called curtains on a career that had him face a tremendous lot from beyond the cricket field. He was clearly one of the most recognized and talented Zimbabwean performers for those of us who grew up in the 90’s. Then there was those two, Jayawardene and Sangakkara. Jayawardene may not have had a great tournament, but no one can articulate the impact this soft-spoken former captain has on the team. Sangakkara, of course, ending it in style, with four back-to-back centuries on a platform such as this. Having played two games lesser than the maximum, he ended the tournament just 6 short of the leading run-scorer. Skipper Angelo Mathews went as far as saying he begged Sanga on one knee to stay on. Such is the impact this gentleman has. Individually, they are legends of the game, and two players who earn great respect from both teammates and the opposition. Their contribution to Sri Lankan cricket, and to world cricket at large have been tremendous. They have managed to leave an indelible mark without a sense of brashness or without a constant spotlight on them. Like Sri Lankans typically are, these two remain the nice guys. But what makes them even more special is the bonding between the two of them that cannot be overseen. This sense of partnership, both on and off the cricket field is what endears us to them way beyond anything that can be comprehended. Then, there was he, he who lived the dream in his final appearance on the field in coloured clothes. Michael Clarke had an almost dream finish to his ODI career, lifting the World Cup as captain for the first time. Pup left a mark as one of the greats to wear the gold and green, making his place amidst stalwarts aplenty, for a country that has almost passed on winning ways through generations. He has made his mark and has led a young Australian team from a group of people who came in knowing they had a legacy to uphold, to a bunch that have found a way to do so, while all along quietly racking up the runs and leading from the front, leading by example.

The Heartbreak

But ultimately, beyond moments like this, it is the spirit of the team that lingers on. And that is one of the things that maintain the purity and groundedness of this game, that unity, that team spirit. The greatest reflection of this came on that eventful day, 24^th March 2015, which easily goes down as one of the best cricket matches played. South Africa, once again in a World Cup, so close, yet just out of their grasp, that victory. What they did earn though, was the respect of the entire cricketing world. There was something about them that made you feel, that tugged at your heartstrings. Even the most devout of New Zealand supporters could not look away from that. The display of emotion gave just a glimpse to the rest of the world, of what it meant to the Men in Green and Yellow, to miss that one. They put up a contest alright, and they have now been involved in some of the best ODI games of this decade, right next to that chase of 438 against Australia. But you felt for them, you truly did. The faces of the players after the final 6 was hit. That collapse into the ground, the shell-shocked expressions and the tears reflected how much it hurt, and that will remain with some of us for years to come, let alone the players themselves.

The Revelation

Moving away from South Africa, the other team that had never gotten to a World Cup final, the team that crushed the South African dream, New Zealand, have been the team that turned quite a few heads. Their fast bowling, Boult and Southee, Henry deserves a mention as well, was phenomenal, and I personally thought was their greatest strength. Their batting, with Guptill and Elliot and the skipper himself, and McCullum’s ‘attack the opposition from the get-go’ style of captaincy, took New Zealand unbeaten, straight up to the doorstep of victory. Yes, they missed the plot on the last day, but that does not, and cannot, in any way diminish the authority with which they made the world look up at them, or the impact they had on a nation of staunch rugby supporters. The Black Caps did a lot more than just succeed on the cricket field. They won plenty of hearts and did it while upholding the spirit of the game, call them another set of nice guys if you will, alongside the Sri Lankans. Yes, they played outside home for the first time in the final, but that in no way reflected any shortcoming. They went hard at the Australians even when victory seemed out of grasp. The 33rd over is testimony to that. With four runs for Australia to win, Tim Southee bowled like he had a hundred runs to defend. And that is just a reflection of the way New Zealand have played right through this World Cup, being the only unbeaten team right up to the finals.

Looking Ahead

So, Australia have done it again, for the fifth time in history. And this one has brought out Starc as a potential pace spearhead, Steve Smith as the potential leader to carry forward Pup’s work, and most importantly, it has brought out a side that will form the crux of an Australian team that will stay, to possibly become the next legacy team. Do not forget New Zealand though, that bunch of players have inspired their nation to turn to cricket seriously, and have possibly inflicted, onto some young minds, the dream to play for New Zealand and bring home a long overdue World Cup. For now, however, the team will continue to play with the brilliance that has stayed with them for the last six months or so. South Africa will continue making their mark on world cricket and hope they can finally replicate their performances on other platforms, in a World Cup tournament four years down. India should be pleased with their performance, especially with the promise their bowling has shown, after a dismal summer Down Under. Pakistan must continue to find a way to eliminate the unpredictability of the brilliance they possess, and they might have found their newest superstar in Wahab Riaz, who deserves the adulation he gets. England, have major repairs to do, to sustain themselves among the best in the game. Sri Lanka has to move on, in the post Sangakkara-Jayawardene era, and produce the next set of star performers. And Bangladesh, must find a way to channel the spurts of immense potential they show, into a more consistent stream of performances. For now though, they will all reflect on the World Cup that this was.

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That last one came up in lots of discussions during the recent Ashes series, and it’s giving me separation anxiety from the purest format of the game. So here we are, putting pen to paper and thinking about the big question: why do we love Tests?

One – The five-day marathon. Playing roughly 10am-5pm for five straight days isn’t just a test of skill - it’s a test of resilience. It isn’t just about who can hit the ball, how far they can hit it or how quickly they can run between the wickets (In the words of Justin Langer – the art of batting, not the art of hitting). It also isn’t just about who can bowl 140kph+ for 10 overs (or 4) or who is physically most capable of defying gravity, flying across the ground with superhuman skill to hold onto a catch. Keep all those skills in place and add a dose of boundless energy to do this repeatedly for five days, to have to stay out on the field all day (or two) and then, just as you are ready to fall on the massage bed, be asked to run out in full batting gear to survive a handful of balls coming at you (generally at 130kph+ at the very least).

Two – One bad session can mean nothing, one bad hour can mean everything. Yes, the paradox holds – anything can happen. For the most part, the simple math holds true – the team that wins more sessions, wins the match. If the match feels like it is slipping away from you, one solid session has the power to change your fortunes. Equally likely – you have had a good day or even great match so far, and you lose half your batting side in an hour – that hour alone could wipe off all the good work you held onto for the rest of the match. How is one meant to step away from the screen when (again) anything can happen! It is not always the team that performs better most of the game that wins, you also need to capitalise on that and win the clutch moments over five days.

Three – The sound of defence. That sound – you know which one – of cherry hitting the willow held dead straight and a thud as the leather clunks to the pitch. The one you practice when you shadow bat all over the house. Some say nothing is happening, it’s all dot balls, there’s no boundary. But you know better – that sound is proof of skill, of the ability to hold down the fort, of the last man standing battle, of standing steady till the end of that hour or session or day, of the price you set for your wicket. It’s peak frustration for a bowler – at least when the batsman’s hitting you around the park you know you have a chance to sneak one past them. But if they defend like their life depends on it, it takes a special stroke of genius to break that wall.

Which brings us to four – Strategy. You see the wicket – that reckless looking shot, which sends a batter back to the crease. What you didn’t see in the highlights was the lead-up to that – the bowler catching the batsman off guard for a good couple of overs, some very good deliveries creating little chances, the exchange of words (banter, not abuse) as everyone’s hot and weary after a long day (or more), the slip cordon getting closer and more populated as this exchange intensifies – and then comes that shot, that wicket! The beauty is watching it all unfold – seeing a carefully constructed bowling strategy reach its crescendo with the umpire’s finger going up. Those are the stories we love to see, love to tell, and love to re-enact ball-by-ball.

Five - The night watchman (and other delightful trademarks). This whimsical (yet logical) concept can be as uneventful as paint drying, but just as often makes you laugh and shake your head in disbelief. Either the night watchman gets out immediately to be replaced by another tail-ender (or worse, the original batter!), or they inexplicably bat through most of the next day’s session! It’s Tests at their most wonderfully unpredictable. Talking of whimsy, special mention to some of the game’s trademarks – Boxing Day test at the MCG, the Lord’s Long Room walk, the Richies on Benaud Day at the SCG, the Barmy Army – and so many more experiences that make not just the game special but everything around it.

Six – A draw can mean victory (or defeat). This shocks fans of other sports: ‘They play five days, and nobody wins?’ Yes, and it’s glorious. A draw is only ‘just a draw’ to those who weren’t watching. Yes, that does happen, less so more recently (only 12% of all test matches in the last decade ended in a draw) but still a full possible result at the end of a Test. For a team that was staring down the barrel, one partnership that holds on for half the last day can pull out a ‘winning’ Draw. For the opposition, who were seemingly on their way to a comfortable victory, those two batters on the crease, ticking the balls away till the close of play, just snatched victory from right under their noses – the ‘losing’ Draw. It rarely ever is as straightforward as the scorecards say, and oh what joy we get from the swinging, weaving, unpredictable nature of red-ball cricket.

Seven – The narrative. Watching test cricket is like watching a story unfold – you are introduced to the characters, they each get their turn in the spotlight, some live up to it and some fail on the day, while some others exhibit a generational talent. There is character development – a character can go from hero to villain in the span of minutes, and you are never too far away from a plot twist, all taking us, the viewers, to the finale of the story, the grand ending before we bid adieu for now, and meet again to repeat a different version of this story with new heroes and new villains the next time out. And that’s why we shall continue to reminisce about its joys and wax lyrical about the magic of the long game.

“Some succeed because they are destined to, but Rahul Dravid succeeded because he was DETERMINED to”.

Charismatic, determined, respectable, humble, unsung hero, cricketing legend!
No more will we get to see the action. No more clean sparkling white neatly tucked in, on the field. The epitome of dignity, poise, grace and humility even in a game and a time that battles with corruption and murkiness surrounding it. A breath of fresh air in the midst of arrogance and limelight hoggers. Hardwork, determination and sound, classic technique was redefined for a generation that wanted only flamboyance and flashing lights. A big inspiration on how self-confidence and self-belief can overcome any and every criticism, no matter how hard it may be.

An admiration that started even before I was 4 feet tall has never stumbled, never faltered, never faded. If anything, it kept increasing with every detractor added. Single handedly opposing, every single time anyone came up with new criticism. I’m still proud of every single occasion I publicly and whole heartedly supported him especially when I’d be poked at the face at a string of low scores…and everytime I’d revel at going back with a giant smile at a century or match-saving knock!

The record books are all proof of the greatness of your cricketing ability but there’s so much more than made you stand apart. Every moment watching you play will be cherished. Every team you played with will miss your presence. Even though it was expected to come, when the end does finally arrive it brings a rush of memories, feelings and eyes welled up. Thank you, thank you RAHUL SHARAD DRAVID for all those times when you brought a smile on our faces, for the times you made India proud, for the times you made the sport proud! Thank you for standing tall and making your mark in an era filled with stalwarts aplenty. You will be remembered not only by your teammates for the hardworker you are, but also by your opponents for the sportsmanship and respectability you brought to the game. No matter how many players come by, “the wall” is irreplaceable!

You will always be cricket’s biggest hero to me!

The illustrations in this post are by Pankti Joshi. Follow her work on Instagram here:

@skinny_doodler