There's a Match On, I Think

Sometime around 11 on the third morning, a moment arrived that nicely summed up the match. At the crease was Chris Gayle, the occasionally explosive but otherwise underachieving West Indian opener. He had watched several wickets fall while he himself made it into the 30s. His team’s prospects of making India bat again, dim at the start of their second innings, were fading with every West Indian wicket.

Then the big screen flashed a message – one of those solicited by SMS from the crowd throughout the match and displayed for all to read. “If Gayle does some magic”, read this one, “then we might get to watch Sachin bat one last time.”