Oh, Temba Bavuma
The man who had been doubted and mocked as a near national pastime was now limping his way to victory.
At St John’s Wood Tube, an hour after close, South African fans were still chanting Temba Bavuma’s name. Oh, Temba Bavuma, to the tune of Seven Nation Army.
It was a wonderful moment, the man who had been doubted and mocked as a near national pastime was now limping his way to victory. And while South Africa are as close to winning a world title for the first time, it reminded me of some moments in the innings.
The first wicket of Ryan Rickelton was weird. In the ground, it just felt out, but you could understand why the batter and umpire weren’t as sure. The ball was wider, then swung further. Rickelton made a late choice to chase, his feet never followed. So he threw his hands through the ball as it bounced.
Most of the time when you do this, if you get bat on the ball, it either squirts to backward point, or it bounces on the way through to the keeper. Rickelton had one of those weird moments where he managed to time his swing in such a way that he nicked the ball on the way up, and he was gone.
You are chasing 282, Mitchell Starc has just been as hard to dismiss as prime Shiv Chanderpaul, and now your opener has somehow managed to nick a yorker through to the keeper. If you’re a normal cricket fan, you think, maybe this is not your day. But what if you’re South African? This is a sign, the hex, the long cursed history biting you back on the arse again. It is over.
Instead, it went the other way. And then there were two nicks. One by Aiden Markram and the other by Bavuma. Markram got a decent piece of one early in his innings, but because of what kept happening earlier in the match, Australia had their slips in very close. This was right, because the ball did die. But it also meant they made a vortex between the keeper and the slip, so then instead of a catch being taken by their first slip, he couldn’t dive towards the keeper.
So Australia moved the slip up, and the ball went low to justify that. But even then, because of the weird pattern they created, the chance was not taken.
But not every chance in the cordon has been low. Late on day two, poor Marco Jansen was almost decapitated by an edge when he was just too close to one.
He was at third slip, where you sometimes field close. You almost never do that at first. And those who do, never field with a helmet on. That is what Steve Smith was doing when a Starc ball squared up Bavuma. The edge flew at Smith, destroyed his little finger - perhaps against his helmet - and the captain limped forward.
Australia set up Bavuma, set the field appropriately, and took the edge. And almost had their best batter ended. The one thing that didn’t end was the Bavuma and Markram partnership. And so they’re still cheering Bavuma’s name, and they may be for a while longer.
Oh, Temba Bavuma.