India wins in Rajkot
India pummels England. Jaiswal pummels Anderson & co, Jadeja pummels everyone, even his own. A story of being pummelled.
Seriously, it's as vanilla as I can make it. That's the headline, an attempt to merely tell the story as it is: another home Test victory for India, Ravindra Jadeja remains an irrepressible cricketer, Yashasvi Jaiswal is showing scant regard for compassion or nerves in his batting, and England remains relentless in their populist rhetoric, irrespective of a crushing 434 run, mauling. Yes, England lost by a mere 434 runs after issuing their ill-judged fourth innings 'bring it on India—on any Friday night in Melbourne, the mercy card would have been long since played.
The sub-title is another matter, and we will get to that later. I hope you stay with it.
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I mentioned Friday that Ben Stokes has little interest in milestones; this is a good thing, given the magnitude of his side's defeat. Captain Stokes deserved better from his loyal troops in Rajkot.
In summary:
India opened with 445. Centuries from Rohit Sharma and Jadeja proved to be the glue that held the innings together. Also, Sarfaraz Khan announced himself with an ebullient 62 (66 balls) from number six. Khan added 68 not out (72 balls) in the second innings for an encouraging match double. Mark Wood took the bowling honours with four for 114 for the visitors.
England's first-innings reply was dominated by the left-hand/right-hand brilliance of Ben Duckett; he swept and swept, drove and drove, and bludgeoned his way to a belligerent 153 (151 balls). The hostility of his stroke-play was only matched by his post-innings sermon. The next highest individual contribution was 41, and five scores under ten didn't help either Duckett or the first-innings deficit. England, bowled out for 319, trailed India by 126.
Second time around India dominated a kindergarten England attack—yes, with one exception! Jaiswal proved unstoppable in both stays at the crease, finally finishing 214 not out (236 balls) with 12 sixes, equalling Wasim Akram's record of 12 sixes in a Test innings. To date, his total sixes for the series stands at 22, meaning that Jaiswal's sixes alone (132 runs) eclipses Jonny Bairstow's series aggregate (102 runs). I was saying.
India's declaration left England 557 to win—Duckett was on record stating no chase is big enough; the more, the better. Obviously, to us, not them, it proved a bridge too far—I won't mention Duckett's runout. Indeed, this was a game of runouts and sixes! Hometown hero and man of the match, Ravindra Jadeja, mopped up, finishing with five for 41.
England eventually succumbed, managing only 122 runs in 39.4 overs. Mr Duckett, please remember that less can often be better.
And there is no mention of Joe Root in that summary. This is both disturbing and alarming. For me, Root, the batsman, is being severely compromised by his bowling role. FFS, find someone else to bowl to Jaiswal and Jadeja. Look after your blue chips, England.
I've taken to reading these last few years—at least Covid provided something. A preferred author is George Saunders, of Lincoln in the Bardo fame, amongst many other tremendous works. However, a recent short story he's written connects to England and Stokes in this instance. It was called "Thursday", first published in the New Yorker. (If there's a pesky paywall, you can listen here). (I'll try to locate my copy and put it in a Google doc; please check back to the website in a few days.
Such a simple title that precedes a not-so-simple narrative. With Twitter restrictions, it goes something like this: "A guy goes to a clinic every Thursday to get an indeterminable high-tech treatment that lets him relive his childhood in exquisite detail," Saunders says. Here's a passage:
It started, as usual, with a vague feeling of remembering: me, grass, summertime. Then came the youthful Memory Body, gradually occupying the Randomly Recalled Iconic Space: our yard on Plymouth Street, me on my back on the lawn, Clara, there beside me.
For me, though, it was a repeated word, and the way Saunders delivered "Pummelled" was perfect. "Dad was pummelling Mum, Uncle Joe pummelled Joyce, Joyce and Mum pummelled Dad", and it went on. Watching India beat England took me right into the fictional living room with spouses and family pummelling each other. Reading the reviews, Saunders's choice of "Pummel" was a little too much for some folk; however, at that time, it was perfect, and now, in this case, it is equally enjoyable. Pummel on.
Will the English media point a spotlight at 2-1 down in the series? There's any number of candidates. My answer, I very much doubt it. You see, Team England will say they ignore the media noise; firstly, they do, secondly, they are the architects, and thirdly, they control it; no team in modern sport has done a better job of shaping and overseeing a media narrative. After all, their first innings deficit was conceded so they could bowl a second time while the pitch still offered help. Outrageous. Management must be pummelled and pummelled with some force. Oh, then look at selection and gag Mr Duckett.