There are things you can learn about yourself only in extremis: when your plane ditches in the Arctic tundra, for instance. Instead of the untapped action hero you’ve always suspected lives inside you, you discover you’re actually the scene-one extra who would rather succumb to a rapid and surprisingly comfortable hypothermia. At least you’re leaving the real fighters something to eat.
For those of us too young to have experienced Headingley ’81 – or, as it shall be known from now on, the other Headingley – this weekend’s game was our great examination. Our Test of character, if you will.
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