One thing struck me while i was watching Freddie bowl with a 74 year old woman’s hip.
Would Jacques Kallis do this?
No, ofcourse fucking not.
Is Freddie a drunkard, yes.
Are his stats are as amazing as Jacques’, no.
Should he achieve more for his talent, probaly.
But the guy is a fucking blood stained warrior.
The look on his face as he bowled was of the purest agony you will see outside of a dad watching Delta Goodrem concert, or perhaps a messy pregnancy on a small framed woman.
PAIN.
While I admire batsmen who go in with an injured limb, there is something sexually gladiatorial about a bowler running in with a major injury.
Ball after ball Freddie thrust himself into the wicket.
Pushing himself to penetrate the Windies line up.
His hip pulsating and drenched with sweat.
Killing himself to give the English public the relief they desired.
Thumping the ball into the track with raw power, then doubling over to nullify the pain.
Other bowlers have probably bowled with more pain.
Other bowlers have possibly bowled with as much pain for longer.
But how often have we been up close and personal as a giant of the game puts his team first, and storms through the pain barrier ball after ball.
We were right there with him, the broadcaster’s cameras in his face.
The pain was with everyone one of us. and he just kept going.
Every over looked like his last, but he refused to give in.
When he came back on for his final over, I just wanted the big man to get a wicket, even though I couldn’t stand the thought of England winning.
At one stage while twittering I wrote this,
“Freddie is now just an pumping organ on the field, he as finally achieved the great sporting cliché, he is now all heart, nothing else.”
The scorecard will look like this, 15 overs 5 maidens no wicket for 32.
But it seemed like so much more to me.
cricketwithballs
