Notes From the World Cup: India's Fast Bowlers are Cooking

I did not know fast-bowlers could barbecue this well

Where does one even begin to describe that? Last night in Mumbai, the Indian fast bowlers dished out a performance that should be, by all means, illegal. Sri Lanka were packed up for 55 on a batting beauty. Such was the dominance from the Indian quicks that the Wankhede crowd was chanting for Virat Kohli to have a bit of a bowl. Can you blame them? Maybe everyone who bowls seam-up in this team is some sort of arrowhead. For the second match in a row, the Indian seamers have made a mockery of the opposition batting lineup.

In the time you took to read the first paragraph, Sri Lanka lost three wickets. It was four soon after. Thus far, this had been Jasprit Bumrah and Mohammed Shami's World Cup, but Siraj, finally, checked into the party last night. After his third wicket of the night, Shami ran in to celebrate with him and slipped in a quiet word, we can only assume, to leave some food for him too. Shami would feast, but before that, we must start somewhere. So let's start with the best thing of the evening, the first delivery of the Sri Lanka innings. Jasprit Bumrah to Pathum Nissanka.

The Wankhede Stadium is a good chasing ground in T20 cricket. During the IPL, usually held in April and May, teams almost refuse to bat first given the choice. The boundaries are relatively small and the pitch offers true bounce thanks to a red soil-dominant composition. Sri Lanka, even if short on their bowling, have been batting decently at this World Cup. One can understand some of the thinking behind Kusal Mendis choosing to bowl after winning the toss. A target of 358, however, is a bit steep for most grounds, even taking early November dew into account. So, during the innings break, Chris Silverwood, Mahela Jayawardene, and the Sri Lankan batting group would have run some calculations about navigating this chase. See off Bumrah would probably be written in large, bold font at the top of the plan sheet.

Bumrah runs in, takes his leap close to the stumps, and pitches the ball in line with Nissanka's middle stick. Nissanka is already batting with an open, almost side-on stance, and this ball, with its angle of release, is looking ripe to be chipped into the leg side. Maybe a couple of runs, maybe even a four. He doesn't know yet that Bumrah has sold him a dream that he will wake up from in another 0.2 seconds. The ball lands upright on its crisp, taut seam, and deviates, devilishly, to the other direction. Delivered at nearly 90 miles an hour, there is no chance for the batter now, especially with the body orientation he finds himself caught in. Opened up like a box of mints on a balmy night, Nissanka can only waft at thin air and hear the ball thud into his pads. A speculative, desperate, decision review later, he is gone. India are here.

Source: ANI

Kusal Mendis, the captain, walks in. His mind must be racing. The last time Sri Lanka played India, they were all out for 50. The font on the number 358 seems to be getting bigger with every step he is taking towards the pitch. There are five more balls of Bumrah to come in this over alone. And then 174 more from this fire-breathing dragon that is the Indian fast-bowling attack. Dimuth Karunaratne is an experienced ally. Maybe he can offer some words of comfort. Bumrah is already at the top of his mark, shuffling the ball in and out of his hand, familiarising his index and middle finger with the stitching of the seam. Which way is he looking? Which way is the ball tilted? Oh, boy. Here we go.

Bumrah sends the next ball in, angled similarly to the previous one for half its journey before taking an exaggerated leap and going wide. Phew. The next one is wide too. Alright, the matrix seems to be glitching. Steady. The ball after is eerily similar to the Nissanka one, pitched almost on the same line, maybe just a bit closer to the bat. Surely this one is meeting some wood and fetching some runs. In your dreams, son. The ball moves away, beating the bat, the stumps, and the minds of everyone watching.

The next ball is even closer to Mendis, this time actually in hitting range, but by now he is so spooked that he can only spoon it towards the bowler, evading his outstretched hands by mere inches. He wants to get off strike and transfer this nightmare to his partner, but the Indian fielders are sharp. Wankhede, too, is fully flexing its vocal cords by now. The next two balls are tamely defended back. Kusal Mendis is a gutsy, spunky batter. The way he took down Shaheen Shah Afridi at Hyderabad was a sight to behold. There was no way he was taking an ounce of risk on these two balls, though.

Alright, one over gone; 49 to go. 356 runs to win.

Siraj, slightly out of form and rhythm, runs in. Thankfully it's not Shami. Not yet. The ball pitches on Karunaratne's off stump, he lunges, ball hits his pad. Gone. Jesus Christ. Sadeera Samarawickrama is now in. What a lovely talent, filled with grace and power in equal amounts. He has been batting well too. There is enough time to recover. Siraj gets his next ball to jag back in, the ball again hits the pad, there is another loud appeal, and the umpire raises his finger again. Mendis can barely look. Samarawickrama reviews and the decision is reversed. We live to fight another day. India have three slips now. This is Test match bowling, with a Test match field, in coloured clothing and a target to chase. Two balls later, the batter, probably feeling the pressure of 358, wafts at a rare wayward delivery. Caught in the third slip. Oh my god.

Mendis is on strike for Bumrah's next over. Is he sweating? He must be. But is he sweating from his ears, his armpits, his back, and his calves? If not on the first ball, then after the second ball, which nearly ricochets off his bat onto his stumps, he most certainly is. The third ball almost makes him fall over. A sharp broadcaster needs to get access to heart-rate data and beam them live to the audience. Kusal Mendis would've been operating at, what, 150-160 bpm at this point? Like going through an 18 km/h sprint while standing still at the crease. He mercifully gets off strike on the next ball.

At the start of the next over, this time from Siraj, Mendis is again on strike. The word easy is a bit of a stretch for the bowler who took five wickets in sixteen balls against the same lot just about a month back, but we all grasp for small mercies. I can see Mendis taking a few breaths as he pats his bat to get into stance. Siraj sends his ball in, pitching in the same area that Bumrah's ball to Nissanka pitched in. Alright, easy. Mendis lunges for a forward defence, a perfectly fair option to choose for this ball. And then he hears the percussion from his stumps bending backwards. It's over.

Mohammed Shami has not even warmed up yet. By the time he gets the ball, Sri Lanka are heated and marinated. Shami cooks, and then feasts. 

Words cannot do justice to the performance of the three seamers last night. Hotstar has the entire replay somewhere. Just catch the Sri Lanka innings; it isn't that long anyway.