Postscript: England vs India, Lord's, 2025 - Ben Stokes Shows Up

When shit hits the fan, you want him in your corner

Lord’s Cricket Ground got the afternoon it deserved.

I think it’s about time we stop calling Lord’s a cricket ground. It’s a museum where live cricket in whites is part of the exhibition. At no other ground does history sit so close to you, where you feel time slow down, where cricket should only be played in whites. Attending a match here is a bucket list item for most cricket lovers, writers, even players. Mick Jagger and Stephen Fry in the crowd, sponge cake and champagne in the food court.

It is probably the only cricket ground in the world with a dress code. There is a long list of things you cannot wear, no matter where you’re sitting. And if you’re going to the members’ pavillion, there is a tiny list of things you can wear. The ground is shaped like a shoebox, it slopes two meters from one side to the other, and everyone agrees these aren’t design flaws but charming quirks.

Then there’s “the walk.”

To get to the dressing room, players and support staff have to walk through people. And those people are, as a matter of rule, dressed in crisp shirts and exclusive egg-and-bacon ties. The social media accounts run by the stadium - imagine a sentence like that - call it “the iconic walk” these days. You walk into the long room, past members of the Marylebone Cricket Club - the oldest in the world - standing and gently applauding you, into a corner where an old man in a white suit points you towards a teakwood staircase. Two flights, lined by massive hand drawn paintings of famous cricketers, with more people in white suits pointing you towards your destination. Somewhere in there is the Honour’s Board - a longlist of cricketers who have scored a century or taken a five-for on this hallowed turf.

Last evening, a few jubilant minutes after Mohammed Siraj perfectly defended a ball onto his stumps, the broadcast cut to Ben Stokes leading his team upstairs into the home dressing room at Lord’s. His face was the colour of raw beef, his hands untucking his shirt as if the torso was screaming for air. The cameras caught him blowing out his cheeks. Those old boys in their suits and ties must have wondered if he’d make it to the top without keeling over. He looked ready to curl up right there on the landing between flights and sleep until Tuesday.

Five minutes later, Stokes had to drag himself back down those stairs to collect his Player of the Match medal and give the winning captain’s interview. Michael Atherton, microphone in hand, asked him how deep he’d had to dig.

“Yes,” Stokes said, and exhaled again. One word and a lungful of spent air. Perfect.

You want to know who Ben Stokes is? He’s the bloke who turns up when the game’s gone to hell. Headingley 2019, when he carved Australia to pieces while running out of partners. Cape Town, Perth, and those two World Cup finals where everyone around him was chewing on their nails and he, instead, found some impossible zen. When cricket gets desperate, Stokes gets interested.

The most memorable out of that album of insanity is Headingley, of course. The last day of an Ashes Test, series on the line, Australia at a touching distance of closing the game, and Ben Stokes the batter found a rare plane. It is, by all objective measures, one of the greatest Test innings ever played. Sure, that final day was the best part of the game. One hundred percent. But if you followed the game closely, you’ll remember the previous afternoon, where Stokes bowled unchanged for two-ish hours to drag England back into a place where they had a chance.

I remember a blazing Ahmedabad afternoon, brightened by Rishabh Pant’s batting, where Stokes bowled for an hour, even as his face turned red and purple. Sometimes, at the end of a delivery, he would keel over, hands to his knees, exhale, get up, and walk back to his mark. Repeat.

In the post-match presentation yesterday, Stokes told Atherton, “One of the good things about being an all-rounder is that you get four chances to impact a Test match. Two as a batter, two as a bowler.” He said it while huffing and puffing and exhaling between words.

The Lord’s Test match of 2025 will be remembered for many things. Joe Root’s century, easy on the eye, easier on the ears. Jasprit Bumrah’s fiver, piercing as ever, another exhibition of why having his name is an honour for any Honour’s Board in the world. Jofra Archer’s return to Test cricket after four years, his venom, the wickets, the ball to Rishabh Pant. Ravindra Jadeja, Mohammed Siraj, and the most incredible, taut final day, finishing in a way that makes you question why such a great thing has to end in such heartbreak.

Stokes was the Player of The Match. Going by the scorecard, he probably shouldn’t have been. The numbers next to his name are nondescript. There were others who produced better individual performances. But, with the benefit of 24 hours of hindsight, I can see why the SkySports commentary crew - made of ex-cricketers and captains, people who know what it feels like when a game starts slipping through your fingers - thought Stokes deserved the medal.

On the last day, Ben Stokes, a man who has undergone a knee surgery just eighteen months back, who had a hamstring injury this January, who has been advised by doctors and his own coach to not stretch himself, bowled unchanged for an hour and a half, took a breather, then bowled for another hour and a half. There were other fresher, maybe more skilled bowlers queueing for a chance, but the game was on the line, maybe even the series. He picked 3 wickets, but that’s not the point. That’s never the point with Stokes.

A couple of days back, during India’s first innings, coach Brendon McCullum had to practically force his support staff to yank the ball out of Stokes’ hand. Bowling coach Tim Southee was tasked with the unenviable job. “He's a tough man to get the ball out of his hand, certainly when he’s got rhythm like that. It's been hot, but he's a guy that loves those times of the game when the game is in the balance.”

There’s a Wikipedia entry for the word “clutch”. The definition refers to athletes excelling under pressure. Two psychologists called Robert Yerkes and John Dillingham Dodson once drew a bell curve showing how pressure affects performance. Most athletes peak somewhere in the middle - enough stress to sharpen them, not so much they crack.

Then there are some - like Jordan, Warne, Maradona - who break into a grin when everyone else begins to sweat. Even if Stokes doesn’t quite have their body of work, he shares their kink for the big moments. Apart from the two gold-plated World Cup finals, there is a third. It is remembered for Ian Bishop on commentary laying the background score to West Indian all-rounder Carlos Brathwaite tonking Ben Stokes for four sixes in four balls in the last over. The photo of Stokes on his haunches, broken, looked like it might define him. Would have defined most people. But he had too much fight in him to let one night in Calcutta write his story.

You know what’s common between Roberto Baggio taking the penalty in Pasadena and Stokes bowling the final over in Calcutta? Sure, both scuffed their shot with a World Cup on the line, but both had the cojones to walk up and say, “give me the ball.”

I guess, sometimes strength doesn’t have to mean a Sisyphus impersonation. Sometimes, it could mean one person deciding “I’m doing this” and going to the centre of the boulder, pushing it with every ounce of strength in their shoulder and glutes. And when that sight becomes a pattern every time the boulder gets too big, I guess you begin responding to the inner strength of that person.

There’s a lot of well-reasoned critique of the hype surrounding Bazball. Most days, they talk a bigger game than they actually play. But watch Stokes grinding himself to dust in 35-degree heat, watch him refuse to let go of the ball when fresher bowlers are queuing up, and you understand what England are trying to build: a team that matches their captain's bloody-mindedness.

Photo Credit: Sports Tak

A decade or two from now, if Test cricket’s still an active game, if Lord’s is still a venue where history walks in a creaseless suit and the egg-and-bacon tie, someone will paint a hand drawn picture of Ben Stokes and place it in the long room. I hope they don’t bother with his statistics, impressive as they might sound. Numbers can’t capture what it meant to watch Stokes refuse to let go. There’s clutch, then there’s Ben Stokes.