Two deliveries in a final

I don’t think we will ever stop dissecting those two balls Wasim Akram bowled consecutively in the 1992 World Cup final. Imagine watching a really amazing CGI film a decade before anyone knew what CGI was. Wasim unleashed reverse swing at the critical juncture of a World Cup final.

The context alone is what clinches it. But it doesn’t need to. On their own, the deliveries themselves do the job. Over the years, I came to love the first one more. The one that got Alan Lamb was so much harder to bowl. Around the wicket, the ball coming in and then straightening enough to get Lamb to commit to the leg-side and then take his off-stump (edit: never trust your memory. Lamb looks to play to the offside but expects the ball to come in with the angle so ends up playing well within the line when the ball starts moving away). The next one, that got Chris Lewis, was the one I liked more as a child, because it was so obviously brilliant. Still bowling around the wicket, Wasim pitches it well outside Lewis’s off-stump and then jags it back in sharply. The bails fly again.

What confirmed this little chapter’s place in folklore for eternity was that it was narrated by Richie Benaud. Many of those who didn’t hear him must have read about how great he was, but these two balls show why. Imagine any commentator today managing to convey such a momentous occasion with two such original lines.

1st wicket
Benaud: “What a delivery, left arm around the wicket, Alan Lamb has been cleaned up. <pause> Perhaps, so too England.”

2nd wicket
Tony Cozier (as Lewis walks in): “England have a lot of all rounders towards the end of their order. Lewis, Reeve, Pringle, DeFraitas. Fairbrother is still there.”
(Wasim bowls Lewis)
Benaud: “Subtract Lewis from that list.”

England didn’t fold there, but the final effectively ended then. The mastery of the deliveries, the timing of their impact, and the perfection of their presentation meant that they remained impossible to forget, especially for an 8 year old like myself.

But consider the two Mohammad Amir bowled today. For starters, they didn’t result in wickets — no plural, it was just one. Secondly, it wasn’t a World Cup final but a Champions Trophy one — a lesser event. Thirdly, the deliveries didn’t have the iconic aesthetics of Wasim’s — the movement was far more subtle, less extraordinary.

But now consider this. Mohammad Amir was meant to be like Wasim — the teenaged prodigy who was groomed to greatness. Wasim’s 1992 was the moment he emerged from the shadow of his mentor, Imran, a process which took eight years. Eight years ago, Amir had bowled a brilliant opening over in a WT20 final in the same city, but a year later he was arrested and banned for the same sin that blotted, but never ruined Wasim’s career. Instead of arriving at this tournament at the peak of his career, Amir arrived seeking redemption and a way of returning back to the glory days.

Also consider that these balls were delivered when the match was wide open.

When Wasim took his two wickets, the match wasn’t a done deal but England were chasing over a 100 at over run a ball with six wickets in hand. For that era, it would have required something phenomenal. Wasim’s wickets confirmed what was already likely. (edit: After discussing this with the PiPY gang, and reading a comment by /u/bonelesstonalmollusk, I have realised that this view is incorrect. Lamb and Fairbrother were terrific, proven chasers and Wasim’s spell was indeed decisive.)

Amir’s two balls came when the match was wide open, and the chasing innings has just begun.

And finally, consider that the best of Alan Lamb’s and Chris Lewis’s cricketing genes could be combined and upgraded and supercharged and they would still come nowhere near the sport’s greatest ever batsman of the LOI chase. (edit: Again, Lamb was amazing in chases, especially for that era. Kohli is still Kohli though.)

Kohli’s record in chases isn’t just amazing — it is at levels the sport hadn’t imagined before. Virat Kohli can do many things, but the one thing he seems born to do was to chase. Often, his openers made life easy for him. Prior to this match, he had only batted in the first over twice in ODIs. Both times, he scored 100s. When it had happened against Pakistan, he hit no less than 183 in a huge chase. The fact that Pakistan had put up a good score almost seemed like a bad omen, because it gave Kohli a challenge he would enjoy. And no one has any answers when Kohli does that.

Amir, who had spent most of the time since his return looking a shadow of the bowler he had once been, seemed to bring his A-game against India. Only a hesitant umpire had prevented him from taking down Kohli in the Asia Cup last year, where he had dismissed Rohit Sharma in almost exactly the same way he did today.

He started with keeping it on either middle or leg stump to Kohli. Beaten once, he picked up a couple and then another double after finding the leading edge. The fourth ball Amir bowled to him was the first one he pitched on off stump, and it kept moving away. Kohli obliged with a nibble that took the edge, and the simplest of catches floated towards Azhar Ali.

If you have been following Amir’s return, you might have heard about the number of catches his teammates dropped off him. By the last count, it was 14. Some, like me, wondered whether Amir would have found his old self again had those catches held, had he found those precious moments of confidence that he surely must have lacked. Mohammad Hafeez, one of the most vocal opponents to Amir’s return, had dropped several of those catches, providing that sliver of gossip Pakistan cricket needs to blow up into a conspiracy. One other player had been prominent apart from Hafeez in opposing Amir’s return.

Azhar Ali.

Azhar Ali, who dropped this simple floater. Azhar Ali, who grabbed at it and hit it with his shoulder and lost sight as it dropped harmlessly beside him.

King Kohli had survived. A man with 26 centuries when chasing had just been dropped in an ICC final. Pakistan, who had lost seven of these matches in a row now had to get rid of Kohli twice. In those brief seconds, this entire impossible run that had seen them knock out fancied opponents one after the other threatened to come undone. This Indian team and its proud captain had no time for sentiment. And now they had been offered a lifeline. Like having a chance to escape from a shark and instead offering it a bloodied finger.

Kohli wanted to ease the pressure. He looked to play his get-out shot. A shuffle across and a whip to the onside. A shot he could play in his sleep, while blindfolded and in zero gravity.

Amir looks to adjust, but only slightly. He doesn’t go shorter, and he removes that faint width he had offered (edit: on second look, he does go fuller, but is actually fractionally wider than before). It pitches on middle this time, and would have held that same fifth stump line. Kohli however wants to hit it legside. He wants off strike. He wants to get on with winning this match.

Right before Amir had bowled, Sourav Ganguly on the commentary referenced the dropped catch and asked, “how important is that?” Nasser Hussain might not be Benaud, but him and Mike Atherton are two of the finest commentators of this era, and Nas has voiced several iconic Pakistani moments.

How important is that — the question lingered for a brief moment as Amir released the ball. Kohli, moving across and shifting his weight legside isn’t to the pitch of the ball and it flies off his leading edge.

I’ll let Nas do the rest…

Saurav: “How important is that?”

Nasser: “In the air… GONE! Not that important! He’s gone the next ball. Brilliant from Amir! Pakistan cricket at it’s best — one minute down, next minute up!”

Amir’s teammates mobbed him. Virat ruefully looked at his blade, unable to understand. Two balls that weren’t the finest a Pakistani has ever bowled, but two balls that between them told you almost everything you needed to know about Pakistan.

Two balls that changed a final.