England fielders conjure India wickets as Alastair Cook’s magic returns

http://www.theguardian.com/sport/blog/2014/jul/30/england-fielders-india-alastair-cook-third-test

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The standard of fielding is often a reliable barometer of the mood of a side, in which case England just might be on an upward curve. They have not won a match in 10 games, not since the heady days of the defeat of Australia at Chester-le-Street last summer.

On Thursday they have a chance of breaking that grim sequence. If they do this will, in part, be down to two moments of magic in the field on Wednesday afternoon, one rather more graceful than the other.

India’s second innings had begun all too sedately for England’s liking; just a smidgeon of swing or seam was in evidence on a fourth-day pitch baked dry. There was also the nagging feeling that Jimmy Anderson and Stuart Broad would have to take most of the wickets. That was the case in the first innings when Chris Jordan and Chris Woakes were still searching for the spark that a dismissal invariably brings.

After 11 overs, England’s two stalwarts were obviously coming to the end of their new-ball spells and the India openers were still there. It was not looking good. Those with a sharp memory or a functioning laptop could recall The Oval Test of 1979 when India were set 438 to win by Mike Brearley and ended up on 429 for 8 after a Sunil Gavaskar double century. Perhaps something similar was on the cards. Certainly Alastair Cook’s declaration could not be criticised for its tardiness.

Then the ball dribbled out on the legside but there seemed to be no danger for Murali Vijay as he set off. After all Broad, who had just been sweating through five overs, was at square leg. He lumbered in as fast as his beanpole legs would allow and he swooped, not so much like a swallow, more like an emu; he grabbed the ball and underarmed it at the stumps on the dive. The bails were disturbed but still none of the England players sensed a wicket. Nor did Vijay. He never recognised the danger. From such schoolboy errors Test matches can be decided.

In the next over Cheteshwar Pujara pushed forward to the first delivery he received from Moeen Ali. He edged it and eyes were diverted to the fine third-man boundary. Yet there was no red orb to be seen down there. Instead it somehow came to rest in the right hand of Jordan at slip. This was a brilliant catch; Jordan with razor-sharp reflexes had stuck out his hand and, like a magician, he showed the ball to an admiring audience. Pujara must have felt betrayed; England were cock-a-hoop.

There would be a much simpler catch to Jordan at slip off the bowling of Joe Root plus a deft one from Jos Buttler standing up to the stumps to dispose of Virat Kohli. In contrast to India earlier in the day and England earlier in the series, the fielders were vibrant yet relaxed. They seemed to be enjoying themselves and the ball was sticking in the palms of their hands.

Four wickets down and not one of them had been in the columns of Anderson and Broad. In fact, the only fielding blemishes came from Anderson, who missed two return catches: an extremely difficult one in the first over and then a slightly easier one just before the close.

Nonetheless, it was a happy afternoon for Cook, who was doing his impressions of Mark Taylor or was it Brearley? For a change everything Cook touched seemed to turn to gold. He tossed the ball to Moeen early and Pujara was snapped up. He tried Root and Shikhar Dhawan succumbed. He even had the gall to invite Gary Ballance to propel an over of slow leg-breaks. At this rate Cook may even qualify for a star column in the Daily Telegraph.

Earlier he had notched up an unbeaten 70 to suggest that his batting crisis is subsiding. Compared to his colleagues Cook’s progress was relatively pedestrian. His runs took him 114 balls. Only the curmudgeon’s curmudgeon could complain much about that.

In any case, Cook bats best in his own way, which prompts an unlikely parallel and anecdote concerning Tom Graveney and Bill Alley, the uncompromising Australian who batted and bowled for Somerset before becoming a Test umpire. Alley’s colleagues were purring at the sheer class and elegance of Graveney, how he could score runs on the offside and the leg, against pace bowlers and spinners, on pitches green or brown.

On and on they went, waxing lyrically about Graveney while Alley, a brilliant batsman in his own right, though not so cultured, remained uncharacteristically silent.

Eventually this encomium about Graveney came to an end. There was a brief silence before Alley finally chirped up. “He can’t fucking slog though, can he?” Cook can’t slog either, but on Wednesday that was the least of his worries.