4 min readJul 15, 2025 07:30 PM IST
First published on: Jul 15, 2025 at 07:00 PM IST
I feel bad for people who don’t care for Test cricket.
In what other form of the game would a haphazard defensive stroke, hardly off the middle of the bat and yielding zero runs, make the decibels go up around the stadium? Or, that a brief, two-minute confrontation right at the end of Day Three — sparked by a tactic unique to Test cricket: Time-wasting — would lead to two days of fiery tension and sledging, only to culminate in a warm display of sportsmanship and mutual respect? It should hardly matter for cricket fans that India lost the third Anderson–Tendulkar Trophy Test against England at Lords, the supposed mecca of cricket. The slow-burn match itself was a godsend in an era dominated by T20 cricket. A battle of attrition; of sheer will.
Chasing a target of 193 — rather modest for a batting side whose lowest total across five innings in the first three Tests had been 364 — it was the bowling side that needed a miracle. But half an hour into the final day’s play, in a twist emblematic of the inherent unpredictability that makes sports so compelling, it was India (at 82-7, with two sessions remaining) that suddenly needed one. Laidback fans now started to applaud every dot ball and yelp at every close call. And, at 147-9, despite Jasprit Bumrah’s fighting performance and Ravindra Jadeja valiantly keeping the scorecard ticking, Mohammed Siraj found himself in a situation where he had to pull off a Jack Leach.
Ardent followers of Test cricket can never forget Jack Leach, because of what he and Ben Stokes did on August 25, 2019, against Australia in what the press has termed the Miracle of Headingley. While Stokes’ unbelievable 135 not out delivered one of England’s most memorable Test victories, it was Leach’s 17-ball score of 1 run that gave the current England captain the chance to drive home his country’s greatest ever run-chase. Test cricket allows less to be more.
Sadly, Siraj could not pull off a Leach, although the circumstances of his dismissal were most cruel (he defended Bashir’s delivery successfully but the overspin took the ball backwards to knock off the bails). But he fought and how. He defended, he ran, he took body blows, literally. At the end, after the softest of dismissals, as he sank to his knees teary-eyed, the same English players whose faces Siraj had been in for all five days, even inviting a hefty fine for one incident, came to pat him on the back. Five days of intense strategy, hard work and emotion.
Perhaps the beauty of Test cricket lies in this. It is gruelling to play and exacting to watch. But time is not a burden. It is like a character in a 1,000-plus-pages-long classic novel, or a five-act play. There are subplots and chapters. The characters have arcs. Second chances are given. Time presents opportunities for redemption, revenge, and perhaps even resurrection. And the stillness can still have your heart racing. A session can witness just about 50 runs in 30 overs but be nail-biting at the same time (India’s run rate for the second session of Day 5 was 1.67, the lowest in this series).
Ultimately, victory brings euphoria and defeat heartbreak not merely out of allegiance to your country, but because you have been there with your countrymen all along. It is brutal, but also beautiful. So much life that even five days don’t seem like enough. Test cricket is about endurance — both for the players and the fans. And this quality alone should drive us to preserve it.
Like I said, I feel bad for people who don’t care for Test cricket.
saptarishi.basak@expressindia.com
A brief, two-minute confrontation right at the end of Day Three — sparked by a tactic unique to Test cricket: Time-wasting — would lead to two days of fiery tension and sledging, only to culminate in a warm display of sportsmanship and mutual respect. 
Share
