By Josh Brown, Sport Editor at Exepose
Fairytales.
“Imagine what would happen if we actually won it though.”
“The scenes when Trippier’s free-kick went in, even if we
lost that semi-final”
“The Lionesses are a credit to our nation even if they fell
agonisingly short.”
English sport isn’t exactly synonymous with happy endings.
No, it’s about the drama, about coming up frustratingly short, about stealing
defeat from the jaws of victory. It’s about being losing finalists, achievement
enough to be applauded off the field of play but ultimately about remaining
trophy-less.
And, with two overs to go at Lords, it seemed we were in for
another of these garish purgatories. “If we have to lose, we’ve lost to a
superb team” seemed to be the general mood around both the stands and the
country. And there is no doubting that if Kane Williamson had held the World
Cup aloft, few could have argued his side didn’t deserve it. Perhaps the
cricketing purists amongst us might have even been somewhat happy that the
underdog story had rung true, with the Black Caps – one of the most likeable
sides in recent memory - defying the odds to even make it to the final. It
seemed as if we were resigned to this eventuality when England’s top order –
faultless with Jason Roy in the side – inevitably collapsed in their biggest
game. When Joe Root, the most composed batsman in the entire tournament, lost
his head and threw away his wicket.
And yet, in an innings more befitting a village game than a
World Cup Final, a scratchy, laborious 84* from Ben Stokes hauled England to
the brink. Somehow the numbers, the noise, the words still haven’t found a way
to capture what happened when Martin Guptill’s throw from the boundary hit the
Englishman’s bat and deflected away for four. It sounds obvious, but this stuff
just doesn’t happen. Not in village games on Sundays, not in junior midweek
games – least of all, a World Cup Final. And certainly not to give England a
decisive mental edge that – finally – they would capitalise on in a game of
such significance.
Stokes looked exhausted as the match finished in an extraordinary tie
The value of fighting tooth and nail for the hardest-fought
wins is every bit as satisfying, if not more so, as wiping aside a weaker team
4-0. Eoin Morgan’s huge knock against Afghanistan was a great spectacle, but it
wasn’t a great moment. By way of contrast, Stokes’ batting was far from a great
spectacle but ultimately produced one of the greatest moments in English
cricket history.
And the importance here is that every second of those last
few minutes, then the super over itself, captured every aspect of what makes
not just cricket, but any sport, worthwhile at a professional level. England
recovered from the brink. New Zealand had been totally dominant, and with
Buttler dismissed, landed the knockout blow that sent the hosts down to the canvas.
Not just knocked out, with hope of future fighting. But dead. Buried. The game
was as good as over. Then, just as the corpse hit the floor, it was dragged
back to life by the most fortunate of circumstances. Life seeped back slowly
into its eyes, as England’s Frankenstein monster – encouraged, not burdened, by
the situation in hand – somehow finished level with its opponent, the Kiwi
heavyweight. It defied description.
Six runs, scored after an extraordinary deflection off the bat of Stokes when running a second went to the boundary, helped England level the scores
But the fairytale bit back. Archer recovered his poise, New
Zealand pushed and levelled the super over, but couldn’t find a winning total.
It was the most quintessentially British way of winning a World Cup Final one
could possibly conceive.
Anyone that enjoys sport being straightforward is missing
out on the entire point. It’s not about winning or losing. It never has been,
and never will be. It’s about the entertainment. That decisive ball came and
went. Buttler took the stumps. Carnage. Moments. You could have offered Eoin
Morgan a comfortable 150 run win in a World Cup Final and given the choice
between that and what actually happened on Sunday, I think he’d have kept
things exactly how they were. That five seconds after Roy’s throw in from the
boundary won’t ever be topped for as long as he lives.
England had previously reached three finals and never won
Sport moves on quickly. The focus now is on the Ashes.
Losing the most famous test series in cricket so soon after the greatest
one-day triumph would erase all memory of Sunday’s drama. There’s no time for
sentimentality – just ask Claudio Ranieri, sacked less than a year after the
biggest football miracle in living memory. If Archer has a disastrous start,
his red-ball career will be put on hold. James Vince, having grafted so hard to
earn a place in England’s top order, struggled and must be nearing his last
chance.
There’s nothing quite like sport to make you realise that
you have to take the good with the bad. It’s the moments that matter. That brief
few seconds that last forever will always be more powerful than the continuous
drone of winning without being pushed. With English national sides, we’ve never
been blessed with teams capable of effortless winning – and we benefit so much
as a result. 1966 was decided in extra-time. 2003 was decided with the last
kick of the game. And 2019 was ultimately decided on an obscure rule that will
probably be changed by the end of the year.
Who cares.
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