Long hours of pain and torment when going through a bad run are familiar to all cricketers
Cricket, the old adage goes, is a team sport played by individuals. When it really comes down to it, you are on your own. The bowler standing at the top of their mark is as lonesome as the batter waiting in the crease. Each delivery is a tiny drama: dot ball, play and miss, a solid defence or nudge for runs, a caressed four or a hoicked six. Each ball a petit mort for either player and not in the sexy French way.
Those split seconds are a battle between two individuals. Until bat hits ball and a member or two of the cream-clad chorus are invited to get involved. If leather doesn’t meet willow then the ball might sail through to the wicketkeeper, the ghost at this particular feast, and another lonesome role (ask anyone who’s ever done it; ask James Bracey) burdened by each delivery being loaded with the potential for success or failure.
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