The ball exits his hand at the end of that liquid smooth action. Agile yet powerful arms and legs moving in unison, it is effortless to watch that it’s nearly hypnotic. The loping, easy run toward the bowling crease, hip alignment almost knitted with the wicket on the non-strikers end. Elevated arm and swiftly turning bowling shoulder brushing past the brim of the umpire’s hat by just a millimetre. It comes out and the spectators and batsman hold their breath.
“It was thrilling, you heard a gasp or an ‘aah’ each over,” remarked the speedster following his destructive spell of fast bowling that reduced the opposition’s top order in ruins. England romped to a record 342-run victory, the bowler ending with 4 for 18. During the spell, his figures were four wickets for the cost of a handful of runs, yet this was one of those displays where statistics didn’t even seem to matter.
Many claim that exists a unique thrill in watching a fast bowler at peak performance, top speed. Perhaps now more than ever, with bat increasingly dominating ball globally, batsmen hitting the stands and holding the pose, record totals being laid waste and even teenage talents excelling internationally. It is then an enjoyable change of pace to see always six-smiting batters “sat down”; more thrilling to see those batsmen hopping around their stance as if at a pub that’s unintentionally stepped on a dog’s tail. Watch as it whistles by their face, jags away from the bat or flies dangerously near the wicket that it could whisper sweet nothings to the stumps as it passes to scorch the keeper’s gloves.
Archer’s spell whetted the appetite evoking memories. Most England fans’ thoughts might have fast-forwarded a couple of months to Australia for the opening match. The thought of seeing Archer in Australia, back to his best following years of debilitating injury and rehab, running amok through the opposition lineup. It not only quicken the pulse but causes tachycardiac. Consider perfect delivery from comeback Test amplify it manifold.
Others might have been recalled of Archer’s spell to Steve Smith in London in the 2019 Ashes among the most intense phases of fast bowling in recent memory. Even when both men retire their shoes, that passage of cricket shall be recalled. Few recall his statistics or the runs Smith made, it was one of those spells that rises above and embeds above most others, leaving stats or the end result of the match to mere admin.
Recall a wild-eyed and zinc-lipped Allan Donald to a wide-eyed the batsman at Trent Bridge in 1998. Alternatively, to keep the England v South Africa narrative, Andrew Flintoff thundering in as a blond, determined locomotive against the legend in Birmingham a decade on. Kallis usually seemed to be made of granite but, in those few overs of assault from Flintoff, temporarily resembled almost balsa.
That Flintoff spell made an impact on a rising star destined for greatness. Young Dale Steyn participated in his first Test tour of England, a broken thumb sustained early on left him a spectator in Birmingham. “That’s one of clearest memories,” says the bowler. “Fans were just crazy I’d never experienced anything like it. They were roaring him on and it all seemed epic. I wanted that experience myself. The drama and intensity. Witnessing it was really special to me is what the sport is all about.”
“When you’re in good rhythm, all feels so easy. You run up, your action. Everything feels perfect and there’s no stress on the body. It’s just coming naturally.”
The majority will never get close to anything like it, raising a query – how does it feel bowling as a fast bowler during one of those spells, when everything is on song, each delivery is on a string and the opponent might as well be in the palm of your hand? “It sort of clicks” was about as explanation Ian Botham got when trying describe the times he entered a hot streak.
“Unforgettable!” Thankfully, ex- England fast bowler the athlete is less equivocal. “When you’re in good rhythm, everything is so easy. Your run-in, you’re following through. Everything feels right and there’s no strain on the body. It’s just natural. Really, those times, they are, you know, it’s just …”
He is momentarily lost in a moment reflection. Maybe it is difficult to describe such experiences after all.
“Let me add,” he adds after a second or two. “Those performances, peak times, they make up for all the times upon waking and can’t get out of bed, when your body hurts. So you earn them in a way. Every chance are taken, all the LBs are given, the crowd is supportive and it feels like it’s your time to shine.”
He left cricket recently; an avid skater, wave rider angler, he gets his kicks in other ways than pace attacks now. He’s just become a father for the first time. He hits the pillow tired but content daily, but one sensation he misses.
“It’s like an instinct almost. You sense that you possess this incredible power during those spells. You can feel the anxiety and the thrill and you realize that you’re the reason for it.”
And then more specifically: “There’s this moment when the ball leaves your fingers, you can recognise it because it has left your hand so many times, I can picture it … as it completely exits your grip right at the end, you feel your digit brush the seam and it releases, mentally you know instantly that this is a great delivery, that it’s almost certain to be a dismissal. That sensation that I miss.”
