Gujarat Titans were ripping the bowlers apart. Sai Sudharsan at one end, was sculpting shots like a man trying to turn cricket into art. Every punch through cover, every pick-up shot felt amusingly aggressive.
On the other end, Washington Sundar had just found his swing. Right, left, straight.
Pitch felt flat, MI bowling suddenly felt flatter. With wickets in hand, the target also felt within the reach.
And just when the match started slipping into GT’s playlist, Hardik Pandya did the thing captains do when logic fades. It’s more like muscle memory now.
Call Bumrah.
Because how many times Bumrah has done it? how many times he had turned games. Be it Mumbai Indians or India. With a spell, sometimes, with just one ball.
He bowled over the wicket to the left-hander. If you are the batter, you know what to expect but you just don’t know how to deal with it. It is like trying to catch a thunder with bare hands.
The ball tailed in late. Washington tried to clear the front leg to give himself room. Too late. The ball sliced through his stance, nutmegged him, before kissing the leg stump.
Washington was on the floor, legs wide, head down, before turning back at the wreckage behind him. It didn’t look like a dismissal. It felt like a bow. Washington was us, bowing to the great delivery, bowing to the great man.
Bumrah, meanwhile, moved for a fist pump but stopped halfway. May be he knew, he is only going to better it someday. May be he knew the match wasn’t done.
Either way, once again, Bumrah inaugurated the path of destruction. The day belonged to Rohit Sharma. But when the night cried for a hero, Bumrah answered. He reached into GT’s throat, stole the win, and turned it all with one perfect ball.
