Showing posts with label NatWest Tri-series 2005. Show all posts
Showing posts with label NatWest Tri-series 2005. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 2, 2025

Lord’s Thriller Ends in a Tie: England’s Grit Matches Australia’s Class in a Timeless ODI Classic

A Match That Had It All

In a contest that will live long in the memories of cricket lovers, England and Australia delivered a dramatic spectacle at Lord’s that culminated in only the second tie ever between these historic rivals—and the 21st in ODI history. What began as a day of Australian dominance turned into a rollercoaster of collapses, comebacks, controversies, and near-miraculous survival. Cricket, at its finest, is a game of glorious uncertainties—and this clash was a masterclass in that very essence.

England’s Collapse: Five Down for Thirty-Three

In response, England’s top order folded like a house of cards. Marcus Trescothick fell early, and Brett Lee’s ferocity came to the fore with a frightening beamer that flew past his face—earning him a reprimand from umpire David Shepherd, who was officiating his final major match at Lord’s. It was a stark reminder of the intensity this rivalry brings.

Glenn McGrath, metronomic as ever, applied constant pressure while Lee, mixing pace and aggression, dismantled England’s hopes. Andrew Strauss was bowled by a delivery that swung late and jagged back—a peach from Lee. Wickets fell in a heap, and England slumped to 33 for five. The crowd sat in stunned silence, resigned to yet another one-sided defeat at the hands of their oldest rivals.

The Counterattack: Collingwood and Jones Defy the Odds

At this lowest ebb, Paul Collingwood and wicketkeeper Geraint Jones began what seemed like an improbable rescue act. Their approach was cautious to start, focusing on survival, but gradually turned proactive. They rotated the strike, punished loose deliveries, and built the innings brick by brick. The longer they stayed, the more the belief returned—not just in the dressing room, but among the fans.

Their partnership of 116 was a masterclass in resilience and game awareness. Collingwood’s knack for nudging singles and piercing gaps blended beautifully with Jones’ more expansive strokeplay. Together, they revived not just the scoreboard, but the entire contest.

However, with 48 required from 39 balls, Collingwood was run out—a cruel blow just as England edged ahead. The pressure resurfaced. Geraint Jones fell soon after, and Simon Jones followed, once again tilting the balance in Australia’s favour.

Australia's Rollercoaster Innings: From Aggression to Attrition

Australia, after being put into bat, came out all guns blazing. Adam Gilchrist and Matthew Hayden launched a blistering assault on England’s new-ball bowlers, racing to 50 runs within the first seven overs. Gilchrist, with his aggressive intent, sent the ball racing to the boundaries, while Hayden provided sturdy support. England’s fielders and bowlers appeared rattled, with the Aussies threatening to post a huge total.

However, the mood changed swiftly once Darren Gough found the breakthrough, removing Gilchrist. The wicket not only halted Australia’s momentum but also exposed their middle order to disciplined English bowling. From 50 without loss, Australia found themselves at 93 for five by the 25th over—a collapse that highlighted England's growing grip on the game.

England’s bowlers, especially Stephen Harmison and Andrew Flintoff, bowled with intensity and purpose, each claiming three wickets. Geraint Jones, behind the stumps, was sharp and athletic, taking five catches—none more spectacular than a full-stretch dive to dismiss Ricky Ponting, a moment that lifted the spirits of the hosts.

Despite the middle-order slump, Michael Hussey showcased his trademark composure. With calculated shot selection and sharp running between the wickets, he constructed an unbeaten 62, steering Australia to 196. It wasn’t an intimidating target by modern standards, but the pitch and pressure ensured it would be no cakewalk.

The Final Over: Drama, Nerve, and a Slice of Fortune

With ten needed off the final over, McGrath was handed the ball. It began with a no-ball, offering England a lifeline. Darren Gough and Ashley Giles pushed and prodded, reducing the equation to three off two balls. Gough then attempted a tight single but was run out—leaving Giles on strike.

The final delivery saw McGrath appeal vociferously for lbw, but Giles survived. The ball squirted away to third man, where Brett Lee misfielded—allowing Giles to run two leg-byes. The scores were level. The game, against all odds, was tied.

Conclusion: A Classic of Character and Contrast

This extraordinary match at Lord’s was more than just a tied contest—it was a showcase of character, composure, and the ever-swinging pendulum that defines ODI cricket. Australia’s early dominance and disciplined bowling were met by England’s grit, embodied in the Collingwood-Jones partnership and the never-say-die attitude of the lower order.

For England, it was a tale of redemption after a shambolic start. For Australia, it was a lesson in the value of capitalizing on dominance. And for cricket, it was yet another reminder of why this sport remains one of the most emotionally charged and strategically rich games in the world.

As umpire David Shepherd bowed out from his Lord’s duties with this epic encounter, one could hardly imagine a more fitting farewell—a match that had everything: brilliance, controversy, collapse, courage, and in the end, a result that nobody could have scripted better.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar 

Wednesday, June 18, 2025

The Day Cricket’s Order Was Upturned: Bangladesh’s Historic Victory Over Australia

There are moments in sports that transcend the mere confines of a match scorecard. They linger in the collective consciousness, etched into the annals of history, revisited with awe and disbelief. Bangladesh’s victory over Australia in Cardiff was one such moment—an event so improbable that it defied every pre-match expectation, rewrote cricketing narratives, and sent shockwaves through the sport’s hierarchy. 

At sunrise, Australia’s dominance was unquestioned. By dusk, they were left picking up the pieces of a humbling they never saw coming. The script was supposed to be routine—another day, another Australian victory. But the beauty of sport lies in its ability to defy certainty. On June 18, 2005, Bangladesh did not merely win a game of cricket; they upended an empire. 

Cracks in the Colossus: Australia’s Missteps

The Australian team that walked onto the field that day was not merely the best in the world—it was a juggernaut, an era-defining force that had crushed opposition with a ruthless efficiency. They had redefined one-day cricket, setting benchmarks that others could only aspire to match. Yet, beneath that impenetrable façade, cracks had begun to emerge, subtle yet significant. 

Their troubles began even before the first ball was bowled. Andrew Symonds, their one-day powerhouse, was mysteriously withdrawn from the playing XI. Initially, it was brushed off as a ‘niggle’ and later as the ‘flu.’ But as the day progressed, whispers of a disciplinary breach surfaced—Symonds had violated team rules, and an internal investigation had been launched. This disruption, minor as it seemed, hinted at an undercurrent of instability in a team that prided itself on unity and professionalism. 

Ricky Ponting, usually a master tactician, made an uncharacteristic misjudgment at the toss. The conditions in Cardiff—a damp pitch under thick cloud cover—screamed for bowling first. Yet, perhaps out of arrogance, or a desire to challenge his own team, Ponting chose to bat. It was a decision steeped in overconfidence, a miscalculation that gifted Bangladesh an early advantage. 

And so, the dominoes began to fall. 

Bangladesh’s Unrelenting Precision

Cricket is often a game of perception. Bangladesh, despite their undeniable talent, had long been viewed through the lens of their past struggles. Many critics dismissed them as perennial underdogs, a team content with participation rather than victory. But within the dressing room, a different mindset was brewing. 

Under the guidance of Dav Whatmore, the team had slowly built a foundation of quiet confidence. Gone were the days of celebrating moral victories; this Bangladesh team had come to Cardiff to win. And from the moment Mashrafe Mortaza ran in to bowl the first over, they played like a team that truly believed. 

Mortaza’s spell was a masterclass in discipline and precision. His first six overs conceded just five runs, an astonishing feat against a side known for aggressive strokeplay. Australia’s openers, usually dominant, were shackled. Adam Gilchrist fell in the opening over, trapped lbw to a Mortaza delivery that jagged back sharply. Ponting, visibly distracted and perhaps unsettled by the off-field drama, soon followed, dismissed by Tapash Baisya for a mere one run. 

Australia’s innings never truly recovered. Damien Martyn scratched his way to a painstaking 77, unable to impose himself. Matthew Hayden, the only batsman who looked capable of changing the script, perished just when he seemed ready to take control. By the time the innings concluded, Australia had managed 249—respectable, but far from the dominance they were accustomed to asserting. 

For Bangladesh, this was their best display of fielding and bowling on the tour by a considerable margin. Mohammad Rafique was cunning and accurate with his left-arm spin, while Aftab Ahmed’s medium pace provided vital control. The energy, the discipline, the sheer refusal to let Australia breathe—this was a Bangladesh side operating at its peak. 

Ashraful’s Masterpiece: A Hundred Against History

There are centuries, and then there are centuries that define a player’s legacy. Mohammad Ashraful’s 100 that day was the latter. It was not just about the runs; it was about defiance, about artistry, about a young man staring down the most fearsome bowling attack in the world and making them look ordinary. 

The start of Bangladesh’s chase was cautious, yet confident. Nafees Iqbal fell early, but there was no panic. Tushar Imran played with positive intent, smashing Brad Hogg for three lofted boundaries before perishing to a spectacular catch by Simon Katich. Javed Omar, known for his patience, provided stability. But it was Ashraful who took centre stage. 

His innings was a breathtaking display of elegant strokeplay. Cover drives flowed effortlessly, flicks to fine leg were executed with casual audacity, and his confidence only grew as the target came within reach. On 54, he was given a lifeline—Jason Gillespie spilt a regulation catch at fine leg. It was the moment Australia had to seize, the turning point they desperately needed. Instead, it became the turning point of the match. 

Ashraful did not look back. He brought up his fifty by flat-batting Glenn McGrath over mid-off, a shot laced with arrogance and flair. He shared a vital 130-run partnership with Habibul Bashar, the Bangladesh captain, who seemed to revel in the moment, finally having something to smile about after years of leading a team in transition. 

The match reached its crescendo when Aftab Ahmed, with audacity befitting the occasion, launched Jason Gillespie into the Cardiff sky for six to level the scores. Moments later, Rafique calmly worked the ball into the outfield, and Bangladesh’s greatest cricketing triumph was complete. 

Beyond the Scorecard: A Nation Transformed

“This is probably one of the biggest upsets in the history of cricket, and my worst defeat as captain,” Ponting admitted after the match. The magnitude of what had transpired was not lost on him. 

But for Bangladesh, this was not merely an upset. It was a statement. It was validation. It was the breaking of chains that had bound them to a narrative of perpetual struggle. 

The celebrations in Dhaka that night were nothing short of euphoric. The streets were alive with jubilant fans, dancing in disbelief, spraying paint on passing cars as if the entire city had become a canvas for their uncontainable joy. Television networks abandoned their schedules to replay the match endlessly. At Mohammad Ashraful’s modest home, a sea of well-wishers gathered, eager to catch a glimpse of their new hero. 

Yet, what was most remarkable was the shift in perception. Just two years earlier, Bangladesh’s greatest achievement might have been playing out 50 overs against a top-tier team. Now, they were beating the world champions. And it was not an accident. It was clinical. It was professional. It was everything that made Australia great, now embodied by a team that had, until then, been overlooked. 

This victory was not just a one-off—it was a glimpse into the future. A future where Bangladesh was no longer a side that the cricketing world pitied, but one that it respected. The cricketing landscape had changed that day, and there was no turning back. 

Australia, the ultimate benchmark, had been conquered. And the cricketing world had been served a warning: never underestimate the raw, unfiltered, and uninhibited talent of Bangladesh. 

The road ahead was long, but the path had been paved. The Tigers had roared, and the echoes would be heard for years to come.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar