Brook’s Hoodlum Hundred deserves to sit on his own brilliant square of light

OK. Who made the gods angry? Cricket gods. Weather gods. Sports gods. All gods. Because very clearly the gods, well, the gods are clearly deeply irritated. As flies with delicious boys, we are steward costs for the gods of the fifth day. They lead us through, beat us in a frenzy and drag us back for their sport the next day.

In the end it was appropriate that England and India will face each other on the 25th of 25 days in this brain -protecting fine, now played by two teams operating in vapors, caffeine, ship cookies and blood socks.

Everyone won this game and at the same time lost it by the time that England and India were called from the field at 5.29 pm, first due to poor light and then a squall of rain. England needs 35 runs, India Vier Wickets, one of the single swinging arm of the wounded Chris Woakes.

Runs were left as smoke that fell in the vast flat open air above the oval stands while Harry Brook and Joe Root played as princes in the afternoon session. Towards the end, the same runs were the most reluctant substance on earth when India drove back with a big heart, took Wickets and holding a pick grip in the rotating door.

You wondered how in the history of all the cricket someone in it managed to score 35 points, such as Jamie Smith and Jamie Overton Porden and Krimpen, feet encapsulated in an invisible gangster of industrial concrete from the gangster.

Something will happen on Monday morning. Stories will be set, themes that we always knew were nailed in place in that last push to the line. For now there is a bonus element: time to digest a beautiful, exciting fourth day, one of the great days of the Bazball project. And especially to talk about Brook.

Brook’s 111 deserves to be alone in his own brilliant square of light, innocent from all results. The victory would probably be the largest in this field in modern times, or at least with Kevin Pietersen’s 153 20 years ago against an Australian attack by Kevin Pietersen, against an Australian attack.

For now, the best way to look at Brook’s innings is to start with the most important moment. Not the hundred self, celebrated with a huge warm wave of noise from a completely rapped oval crowd. Instead, the moment to remember on a deep hallucinogenic fourth day half an hour before lunch, in a game that history, gravity and the Scorecard suggested that England lost.

At that moment Brook walked out of his fold and Akash deeply covered covering for six. This was not only an impossible shot, but an act of pure gangsterism. Brook was at eight out of 18 balls at the start of the over. England was 126 for three and paddling. Johan Cruyff said that when he played badly, he just hit someone, started a row, upset the day. This is not far from what Brook does when the adrenaline -jab is required. Here it came with a moment of space age skills and precision, all hands, eyes, easy grace and somehow also some kind of carelessness, such as a man who hit an apple over a tennis court with a walking stick.

It is difficult to overestimate the sparkle to be able to do this, but also choose to do it at the time. This is Hoodlum Cricket. It comes on the British with a fake Uzi in your pocket. It is Cherringenny soprano. It is talent from another place. And it also makes sense. If you can play that recording, you have the duty to do this. The moment will now exist, a collage of intention, shapes, lines, discarded conventions.

The timing was also cold with the breeding. At that time, England lost. Ben Duckett had fought hard, poking and waving and sawing, as always like Paddington in front of the new ball. Ollie Pope had come and gone and tried to hit everything through square leg, an elite player with a clearly defective technique.

So, with the day, Brook happened. Moments later, he hooked deep into the hands of Mohammed Siraj just over the rope in front of the barn of the ground man. There were tractors and sliding and walks, Beek saw the ball as a single still light point. He walked away during lunch to a huge, dizzy roar, 38 out of 30, and the Broken game open.

This is shock and awe. England plan this for this, choose the time to move the energy. It seems appropriate that Brook, the Sedbergh Scholarship Boy, but also a man from a different path, should be the spirit animal of this style. His entire game is included in that easy swing, the perfect hands, the clarity of his eye. The best players are always orthodox, but with those of themselves forming a remark of their own character and physicality. Brook has this, is graceful, but also played, with abelige but also a silk minced elegance.

Has anyone ever had a better time to play test cricket for England? Brook has played 29 tests and won 19 of them, on average 57, has more sixes per game than anyone, it is just told to go out and be Harry Brook, who extends into the far corners of his own surprising talent in real time.

Brook and Root Gorged on the chase with both hands after lunch. Brook’s 50 came from 39 balls. India began to bowlen short, tired men who bang it in a quiet pitch. Brook sent a Ravindra Jadeja Lange fence to the mid-wicket fence with the Freewheling Dertoemae hurled a shot television in a skip.

There will be a temptation for some to reflect on his absurd and very funny dismissal. Brook praised the bowling to each corner when he threw too far away and literally threw his bat to the square leg, only to be caught.

Why, why not fight and take it home? That is of course to miss the point. That clip about cover was the impossible that made it very difficult to look executable. You want this or not, with all his edges. And to be honest, regardless of the outcome, who could want it seriously in a different way?