A Test of Nerves and Nuance: The Port-of-Spain Redemption

In the aftermath of the fiasco at Kingston, cricket in the Caribbean stood at a crossroads. The hurriedly rearranged Test in Port-of-Spain was more than just a fixture—it was an opportunity to restore the sport’s wounded prestige. And so, amid the swaying palms and fervent anticipation, England and the West Indies engaged in a contest of gripping fluctuations, where fortunes swung like a pendulum caught in a tempest.

For the better part of the third and fourth days, England’s grip on victory seemed assured, their path untroubled by doubt. Yet cricket, that most capricious of games, is never so simple. Twenty minutes after lunch on the final day, Carl Hooper, unflappable and masterful, caressed the winning runs, sealing a three-wicket triumph for the West Indies. At that moment, Brian Lara—leading his side in his first full Test as official captain—stood both relieved and vindicated. Across the field, England's contingent bore the haunted expressions of those who had glimpsed triumph, only to have it snatched from their grasp.

This was no ordinary defeat; it was an echo of past wounds. Alec Stewart and Angus Fraser, veterans of England’s Caribbean travails, had tasted similar despair before—Port-of-Spain, 1990 when an improbable downpour stole a near-certain victory, and 1994, when the spectre of Curtly Ambrose rose from nowhere to obliterate English hopes. Now, another gut-wrenching collapse had left them stranded in the familiar purgatory of unfulfilled promises.

A Battle of Experience Over Youth

This was a match that rewarded the hardened craftsman rather than the impetuous apprentice. The pitch, though not quite the treacherous enigma of Sabina Park, proved an untrustworthy companion—uneven bounce and lateral movement on the first three days dictated that only those blessed with patience, resilience, and technical acumen would thrive.

For England, Fraser was that man. Making his long-awaited return to Test cricket, he bowled with an unerring metronomic precision, extracting every ounce of venom from the surface. His first-innings haul—8 for 53, a career-best and the finest figures by an Englishman against the West Indies—was a masterclass in control and consistency. Stewart, too, displayed his enduring quality, compiling two fighting half-centuries in adversity.

For the West Indies, the architects of victory were equally seasoned. Ambrose, the eternal tormentor, produced a spell of venomous brilliance to haul his side back from the brink. David Williams, diminutive and often overlooked, delivered a performance of rare grit behind the stumps and at the crease. But it was Hooper, languid and unshaken, who truly sculpted the victory—his unblemished 94 not out, an innings of quiet authority, ensured that England’s ambitions were ultimately left to wither.

Twists, Turns, and the Weight of Decisions

The match, from its inception, was governed by the smallest of margins. Atherton, winning the toss, chose to bat—a decision Lara would have mirrored. England’s early momentum, guided by Stewart’s fluid strokeplay, soon gave way to familiar troubles as Ambrose found his rhythm. The fall of wickets was punctuated by controversy—Adam Hollioake’s run-out, a tale of technical ambiguity and unplayable television angles, only added to England’s growing sense of persecution.

Then came Fraser’s moment. With England’s first innings wrapped up for 175, he emerged with ball in hand and, like a craftsman rediscovering his masterpiece, dismantled the West Indies top order with clinical precision. Lara, flourishing briefly for 55, succumbed to his own flamboyance. By the following morning, Fraser had scalped five of the seven wickets to fall, and by lunchtime, he had completed a spell of devastating finality—eight wickets, a lead of 23, and England’s hope flickering back to life.

With the bat, Stewart resumed his dominance, and when England closed the third day 242 ahead with six wickets intact, their position seemed impregnable. But cricketing ghosts have a way of returning. Ambrose, with the memory of 1994 still fresh in English minds, summoned yet another spell of destruction—five wickets for 16 runs, and suddenly, the target of 282 was within reach.

Hooper’s Poise, England’s Regrets

Even with Ambrose’s intervention, England had their moments. Fraser, relentless to the last, reduced the West Indies to 124 for five, seemingly steering them toward inevitable defeat. But then, amid the tension, came the stand that defined the match. Williams and Hooper—one known for resilience, the other for elegance—built a partnership of unwavering resolve.

For hour upon hour, they blunted England’s efforts, Williams unyielding against the pacemen, Hooper dismissing Tufnell’s negative leg-side tactics with measured footwork. England had their opportunities—a mistimed drive on the final morning, a leg-side chance spilt by Russell—but fate had chosen its side.

By the time Williams departed for a career-best 65, the game was all but done. There were no late flourishes, no further twists—only a moment of dark humour as Fraser, straining for one last act of defiance, saw a ball slip through Russell’s gloves and ricochet off the helmet for five byes, a cruel, almost mocking punctuation to England’s despair.

Lessons and the Road Ahead

For England, the immediate concerns were manifold. Fraser had been heroic, Stewart defiant, but beyond them, there were troubling signs. Caddick and Headley, entrusted with the burden of support, had faltered. Russell’s return to the side had been a torment—his keeping, brittle; his batting, inconsequential. And with only three days before the next Test on the same unforgiving surface, there was little time for introspection.

For the West Indies, the victory was both relief and reassurance. Lara’s reign had begun in triumph, but fragility remained beneath the surface. Hooper had provided an innings of substance; Williams had risen to the occasion. Yet, without Ambrose’s intervention, the story might have been different.

Cricket, in its finest moments, mirrors life—not merely in victory and defeat, but in the agonizing weight of what might have been. And so, as the dust settled in Port-of-Spain, England departed with that most familiar of burdens—the knowledge that they had held the game in their grasp, only to let it slip through trembling fingers.

Thank You 

Faisal Caesar 

The Clash of Giants: Sri Lanka’s Triumph and Pakistan’s Woes

In the world of cricket, few moments shine as brightly as those when leadership is tested, heroes emerge, and the game’s ebb and flow weave a tale of glory and despair. This Test series, marked by fluctuating fortunes, encapsulated all of this, with Sri Lanka emerging victorious in dramatic fashion, while Pakistan’s fortunes continued to spiral downward in the most devastating manner.

Jayasuriya’s Ascendancy

The triumph that sealed Sri Lanka’s victory not only brought the team another series win but cemented Sanath Jayasuriya’s position as a captain of rare calibre. This was his third successive Test series win since taking the reins from the legendary Aravinda Ranatunga the previous July. In a career that had witnessed Jayasuriya once carrying towels in the team’s defeat to Pakistan four and a half years earlier, the contrast was striking. Back then, Sri Lanka had suffered an embarrassing innings defeat. Yet, from the ashes of that loss, Jayasuriya and his team rose like a phoenix, conquering their fears and securing their place in history. Now, he had not only secured victory in this series but also proved himself as Ranatunga’s rightful heir.

Jayasuriya’s leadership was a beacon of consistency and resilience. From the time he took over the captaincy, he had worked tirelessly to steer Sri Lanka through tumultuous waters. Under his command, Sri Lanka seemed invincible, no longer a team dependent on individual brilliance but one that exuded collective strength. His personal journey mirrored the resurgence of the Sri Lankan team—a narrative of redemption and triumph.

Saeed Anwar’s Dismal Term

In stark contrast, Pakistan’s situation under the captaincy of Saeed Anwar had become an unmitigated disaster. Anwar had suffered a torrid time in charge, losing all three limited-overs internationals and now two Tests in succession. This defeat marked Pakistan's fifth consecutive loss in Tests, a humiliating streak that included previous series defeats at home to Australia and Zimbabwe in 1998-99. Anwar's leadership was beset with injuries, misfortune, and mounting pressure, and his personal woes deepened as he was left nursing a bruised nose and a sprained neck after a bizarre collision with umpire Mohammad Nazir during his second innings.

The crux of Pakistan’s plight lay in the absence of key players. Wasim Akram, Saqlain Mushtaq, and Moin Khan were all unavailable due to injury or illness, leaving the team with a weakened resolve. In their place, new faces stepped into the breach, but to no avail. Pakistan’s squad, though talented, lacked the cohesion and experience necessary to halt Sri Lanka's momentum.

The Fateful Test: A Match of Tumultuous Twists

The Test match, which seemed to shift directions with every passing hour, was defined by remarkable individual performances and moments of unrelenting tension. From the very first innings, Sri Lanka set the tone, posting a modest total of 268, built around an unflinching 75 from opener Atapattu, who batted through 254 balls, enduring rain delays and Pakistan’s sporadic attacks. The day had been marred by weather interruptions, but Atapattu’s resolute innings was a signal of things to come.

However, Pakistan’s response seemed promising at first. They were in a strong position at 154 for three, but the genius of Muttiah Muralitharan would soon unravel their resistance. The wily off-spinner spun a web of confusion, claiming seven wickets for just 45 runs in a masterclass of guile and precision. Anwar, looking set for another half-century, squandered his chance when he attempted a second six in quick succession, throwing his wicket away and leaving his team exposed. Apart from a stoic 58 from Inzamam-ul-Haq, Pakistan’s batting lineup crumbled under the weight of Muralitharan’s spell.

As Pakistan stumbled, Sri Lanka capitalized. With a cushion of 69 runs from their first innings, they set about constructing a second innings total. Arnold’s majestic 99, which included 13 fours and a six, led the charge. He batted with the flair and composure of a seasoned pro, even though he fell just one run shy of a well-deserved century. Sri Lanka’s innings was defined by partnerships and perseverance, but after Arnold’s departure, they lost their remaining four wickets for just 36 runs in 12 overs, leaving Pakistan with a faint glimmer of hope.

Pakistan’s Failed Fightback: The Anwar Injury and Controversial Decisions

Pakistan’s chase was always going to be a Herculean task, but as if to add insult to injury, the match continued to be marred by bizarre twists. Pakistan’s openers started with a half-century stand, providing brief hope, but soon their progress was stunted by controversial umpiring decisions. The most damaging blow came when Saeed Anwar, already struggling, collided with umpire Mohammad Nazir. The injury forced Anwar to retire hurt, leaving Pakistan even further depleted.

With Anwar out of action and Inzamam and Aamir Sohail falling to contentious dismissals, Pakistan’s chances seemed all but extinguished. Yet, a brief rally led by Yousuf Youhana kept the flicker of hope alive. Youhana, battling both the pressure and his team’s dwindling chances, played an inspired innings of 88, completing 1,000 runs in his 17th Test match along the way. His aggressive strokeplay, which included eight fours and three sixes, saw him add 63 runs with Atiq-uz-Zaman before Muralitharan struck again, taking Mohammad Yousuf and Waqar Younis with successive deliveries, turning the tide definitively in Sri Lanka’s favour.

Muralitharan’s Magic: A Match-Winning Performance

It was fitting that Muralitharan, the mastermind behind Pakistan’s downfall, would play the role of the match’s ultimate hero. In his tenacious spell, Muralitharan took 10 wickets for 148 runs, further solidifying his reputation as one of cricket’s greatest-ever bowlers. His 18 wickets in the series stood as a monument to his supremacy, his craft too much for Pakistan to handle.

On the final morning, with Pakistan still 72 runs away from victory and the game on a knife’s edge, Muralitharan sealed their fate. Despite missing a hat-trick, he took the final wicket, leaving Pakistan with no answers to his genius. The match, which had seen 27 wickets fall—17 of them Pakistan's—ended with Sri Lanka needing just nine balls on the final morning to claim victory. A dramatic climax unfolded, as three of those nine balls were hit for boundaries, and the series was clinched.

A Heroic End

As Sri Lanka celebrated their triumph, Pakistan’s defeat was a painful reminder of the fragility of success. Jayasuriya’s rise to leadership and Sri Lanka’s redemption contrasted sharply with the ongoing turmoil under Anwar’s captaincy. The match, with its highs and lows, embodied cricket at its finest—a spectacle of individual brilliance, tactical brilliance, and unrelenting drama.

In the end, it was not just Muralitharan’s wickets or Arnold’s near-century that defined Sri Lanka’s win, but the relentless spirit that coursed through their veins. Pakistan, bruised and battered, would have to wait for another opportunity, their saga of defeat continuing for now.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar 

A Fall from Grace: West Indies' Humiliating Collapse and Walsh’s Unheralded Milestone

The weight of history pressed heavily upon the West Indies as they crumbled to their lowest ebb in Port of Spain in 1999. If the humiliating whitewash in South Africa had not already shattered their aura of invincibility, their abysmal 51 all out against Australia surely did. It was an ignominious nadir, a moment that symbolized the decline of a once-mighty empire. Back then - their previous lowest total—53 against Pakistan in Faisalabad in 1986-87—stood as a relic of a bygone era, while their prior worst at home, 102 against England in 1934-35, seemed respectable by comparison. This time, there was no mitigating circumstance, no silver lining to disguise the sheer magnitude of their failure. Only Ridley Jacobs managed to reach double figures; the next highest score, a paltry six by Curtly Ambrose, underscored the magnitude of the collapse.

The implosion was staggering: West Indies lost their last 17 wickets for a mere 69 runs in 31.4 overs. Critics were merciless, spectators unforgiving, and even in Lara’s homeland of Trinidad, once ardent admirers betrayed signs of disillusionment if not outright hostility. The captain—so often their talisman—was dismissed for a second-ball duck, leaving his leadership under siege. When the match ended just after lunch on Day 4, the calls for his resignation reached a deafening crescendo.

Yet amid the ruins, a solitary figure stood apart, toiling against the tide of mediocrity. Courtney Walsh, indefatigable and unwavering, etched his name into the pantheon of great fast bowlers, becoming only the third man after Sir Richard Hadlee and Kapil Dev to claim 400 Test wickets. Entering his 107th Test with 397 scalps to his name, Walsh battled through adversity to finish with a match haul of 7 for 131 in 56.2 overs. But even this monumental achievement was overshadowed by the wreckage of his team’s performance. The nightmarish capitulation ensured that his feat was relegated to a mere footnote in a script dominated by despair.

Instead, it was Glenn McGrath who emerged as the match’s most celebrated figure. The Australian quick, known for his relentless precision, recorded his maiden ten-wicket haul in Test cricket, ruthlessly exposing the frailties of the West Indian batting lineup. His dominance began on the first day as Australia, opting to bat, meandered to 174 for six against disciplined bowling. It was a day of attrition, where the watchful Elliott and Blewett occupied the crease for over four hours. But with the outfield cut shorter on the second day, Australia's tail found greater rewards for their strokes. McGrath, whose previous best Test score was a modest 24, defied expectations to amass a crucial 39. In partnership with Jason Gillespie, he added 66 for the final wicket—the highest stand of the innings—frustrating the hosts and shifting the momentum decisively in Australia's favor.

The West Indies’ response, though fleetingly spirited, lacked substance. Dave Joseph, on his Test debut, showed glimpses of resolve, and Lara, ever the artist, sought to dominate Warne early in the series—much as Sachin Tendulkar had done in Chennai the previous year. His innings of 62, laced with 11 exquisite boundaries, briefly hinted at defiance before it was brought to a dramatic end by Justin Langer’s sharp work at short leg. Once he departed, the remainder of the batting order folded with alarming ease, adding a mere 18 runs as McGrath and Gillespie ran riot.

By the third day, the contest had morphed into a procession. Michael Slater, in imperious touch, stroked his way to his 12th Test century, further widening the chasm between the two sides. Australia’s lead, once manageable, ballooned into an insurmountable 363. When West Indies returned to bat on the fourth morning, the possibility of an outright catastrophe loomed. At 16 for five, they flirted dangerously with the ignominious distinction of breaking New Zealand’s all-time Test low of 26 against England in 1954-55. Though they narrowly avoided that historic embarrassment, there was no escaping the brutal reality of their demise.

McGrath and Gillespie required no assistance from Warne or MacGill, their unerring precision proving sufficient to dismantle a shell-shocked opposition. By the time the dust settled, Steve Waugh’s tenure as Australia’s Test captain had begun emphatically—with a 312-run rout in a match that yielded a staggering 11 ducks.

For the West Indies, it was a reckoning. A team once synonymous with dominance had now become the subject of ridicule. The ghosts of past greats must have watched in despair as the proud legacy of Caribbean cricket lay in tatters. 

Whether this humiliation would serve as a catalyst for introspection and revival or merely another step in an irreversible decline remained a moot question among fans at that time. 

But in that moment, as the echoes of their fall reverberated across the cricketing world, one thing was certain—this was not just a defeat. It was an indictment.

Thank You 

Faisal Caesar 

South Africa’s Resurgence: A Triumph of Skill, Grit, and Discipline

South Africa’s commanding 197-run triumph at the newly refurbished Wanderers was more than a simple win—it was a defining moment in their return to the elite ranks of Test cricket. Having fought to a drawn series in Australia, where a remarkable yet somewhat fortuitous victory in Sydney was counterbalanced by a defeat in Adelaide, this performance signified their evolution from competitors to conquerors.

Unlike their previous victories since readmission, this was a complete performance—one where they outplayed Australia in every department and outlasted and outfought them. For a team still finding its feet in international cricket after years of isolation, this symbolic victory reaffirmed their place among the game’s powerhouses.

The Battle of Temperaments: Discipline vs. Frustration

While the contest was enthralling, it was unfortunately marred by disciplinary lapses, particularly from the Australian camp. Resilience, courage, and unyielding competitiveness have long been the hallmarks of Australian cricket, but on this occasion, they were met by a South African side that showcased not only superior skill but also greater restraint and discipline.

The match saw regrettable incidents involving Shane Warne and Merv Hughes, both of whom were found guilty of verbally abusing opposition batsmen. Hughes went a step further, reacting aggressively to a spectator—an unnecessary blot on a fiercely contested encounter. In a match played with passion, South Africa managed to keep their composure, while Australia, uncharacteristically, allowed frustration to seep through their ranks.

South Africa’s First Innings: A Test of Resilience

The opening day saw South Africa stumble to a precarious 126 for six, raising fears of a subpar total that could have handed Australia an early advantage. However, in moments of adversity, great players stepped up, and Jonty Rhodes did just that. His fighting 69, stitched together through crucial partnerships—68 with Dave Richardson and 46 with Fanie de Villiers—rescued the innings.

The pitch, which had been a major talking point before the match, proved to be a fair surface. While its cracked nature suggested it might break down early, it lasted the full five days, defying Australian predictions of excessive turn for the spinners. Despite this, Allan Border’s curious decision to hold back Warne—introducing him only in the 49th over of the first innings and the 44th over of the second—raised eyebrows. It was a move that not only diminished Australia’s bowling threat but also seemed to fuel Warne’s frustration, culminating in an unprecedented verbal outburst when he finally dismissed Andrew Hudson. The intensity of his reaction came alarmingly close to escalating into a physical confrontation—an ugly moment in an otherwise gripping Test match.

Australia’s First Innings: A Misstep in the Middle Order

In response to South Africa’s 251, Australia found themselves undone by the home team’s disciplined all-pace attack. While the South African bowlers maintained a relentless line and length, Australia’s undoing was exacerbated by two costly run-outs—Mark Waugh and Border both falling victim to lapses in judgment. These moments swung the momentum in South Africa’s favour, and with wickets falling at regular intervals, Australia failed to seize control of the match.

Despite an almost even exchange in the first innings, with no batsman beyond Rhodes managing a half-century, it was the second innings where South Africa truly stamped their authority.

South Africa’s Second Innings: Cronje Leads the Charge

The second innings was a lesson in measured aggression and calculated dominance. Hudson’s elegant 60 set the tone, while Peter Kirsten and Kepler Wessels contributed vital half-centuries. However, the defining knock came from Hansie Cronje. His majestic 122, featuring 16 fours and a six, was a masterpiece of controlled aggression.

Batting for 4 hours, Cronje provided the backbone of the innings, allowing Wessels to declare with South Africa firmly in command. The target of 454—an Everest no team had ever scaled in Test history—was set, leaving Australia with a monumental task in a minimum of 133 overs.

Australia’s Second Innings: A Brief Resistance, But a Foregone Conclusion

Australia, never a side to surrender easily, briefly flirted with the impossible. At 136 for two, with David Boon looking solid, there was a glimmer of hope. However, the loss of Matthew Hayden—who had an unfortunate debut, ending with a broken thumb—left a fragile middle order exposed.

South Africa’s relentless bowling attack capitalized on Australia’s weaknesses, dismantling their lineup with disciplined precision. While the final-wicket pair held firm for an hour, delaying the inevitable, the end came with an air of poetic justice. With storm clouds gathering—both literal and figurative—Cronje fittingly delivered the final blow, dismissing May to seal a famous victory.

Conclusion: South Africa’s Coming of Age

This was no ordinary triumph. It was the most complete and authoritative of South Africa’s four Test wins since their readmission, and it symbolized their arrival not just as competitors but as legitimate challengers to the best teams in the world.

By outplaying, out-disciplining, and outlasting an Australian side renowned for its fighting spirit, South Africa sent a powerful message: they were back, and they were here to stay. The road to redemption after years of isolation had been long and arduous, but this victory at Wanderers marked a defining moment in their resurgence. From here, the only way was up.

Thank You 

Faisal Caesar 

Chris Cairns' Heroic Century: New Zealand’s Greatest Triumph on the Grand Stage

In the grand theatre of cricket, where legends are forged and dreams are shattered, the ICC Knockout aka Champions Trophy 2000 final at the Nairobi Gymkhana Club delivered a spectacle for the ages. Under the African sky, New Zealand and India clashed in a battle of skill, will, and unrelenting drama. At the heart of it all stood a man who defied pain and pressure to script one of the greatest triumphs in Kiwi cricket history—Chris Cairns.

For New Zealand, a team that had never even reached a major tournament final before, the stakes were monumental. For India, led by the charismatic Saurav Ganguly, the match was a chance to stamp their authority with a young, dynamic squad. But by the time the final ball was bowled, only one name resonated through Nairobi —Chris Cairns, the colossus who carried his team on his shoulders with an unforgettable, unbeaten 102.

A Tale of Two Halves: India's Strong Start and New Zealand's Gritty Response

The final began with an authoritative display by India’s batting lineup. Saurav Ganguly and Sachin Tendulkar, two of the finest stroke-makers of their generation, unleashed a masterclass in attacking cricket. Their opening stand of 141 runs in just 26.3 overs was a statement of dominance, a warning shot to the New Zealand bowlers that they were in for a long day! 

But cricket, like all great sports, thrives on the unexpected. Just when India seemed poised to breach the 300-run mark, the Kiwi bowlers turned the tide. Cairns, Scott Styris, and Nathan Astle tightened the screws, strangling the flow of runs in the middle overs. The once-fluid Indian innings suddenly looked hesitant. Ganguly, frustrated by the sudden slowdown, later admitted his side had batted “stupidly” in the final stretch. The anticipated late onslaught never arrived, and India finished at 264 for six—still a formidable total, but not an insurmountable one.

A Rocky Chase: New Zealand’s Struggle for Stability

Chasing 265 in a high-pressure final is never an easy task, and New Zealand’s start was far from ideal. Craig Spearman and Stephen Fleming were removed early by a disciplined Venkatesh Prasad, and the run chase teetered on the edge of collapse. Wickets fell at regular intervals, and at the halfway mark, New Zealand found themselves at 135 for five. The required run rate was climbing, the pressure was mounting, and the spectre of another missed opportunity loomed large.

But then entered the man of the moment. Cairns, playing through the agony of a troubled knee, was joined by the ever-reliable Chris Harris. Together, they forged an unbreakable partnership of 122 runs, a stand built on calculated aggression and steely determination. The required rate touched eight an over, but neither flinched. The Indians, sensing victory, tightened their grip—but it was New Zealand who refused to blink first.

The Climactic Finish: Cairns' Defining Moment

As the match reached its crescendo, the tension was palpable. With just nine balls remaining, Harris fell for 46, leaving Cairns to shoulder the final charge alone. But the big man was unfazed. With ice in his veins, he picked his moments, finding the gaps, clearing the ropes when needed, and ensuring the scoreboard kept ticking.

With just two balls remaining, he nudged the winning run, and history was made. New Zealand had done it. Against all odds, against a powerhouse Indian side, they had lifted their first-ever ICC trophy, and at the centre of it all stood Chris Cairns—battered, exhausted, but victorious.

A New Era for New Zealand Cricket

For New Zealand, this was more than just a title; it was a validation of their resilience, their grit, and their ability to defy expectations. This was a team that had repeatedly found themselves chasing games, only to claw their way back with sheer determination. In Chris Cairns, they had a warrior who embodied that never-say-die spirit.

Fleming, ever the astute leader, summed it up perfectly: “You've got to walk with people you believe in.” That belief had driven New Zealand to glory.

A Legacy Etched in History

As the celebrations stretched deep into Nairobi, Chris Cairns must have allowed himself a moment of quiet reflection. The pain in his knee would need further assessment, but the pain of unfulfilled potential, of near-misses and lost opportunities, had been erased. He had played the innings of his life, on the grandest stage, under the greatest pressure.

New Zealand had arrived. Their name was now etched in cricketing history. And at the heart of it all was Chris Cairns—one of the greatest match-winners the game has ever seen.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar