Like a stalled racehorse waiting for the gates to open, he waits for the batter to settle into his stance. The unconscious twitching of the shoulders already out of the way, he gathers himself for a microsecond, then sets off on a brisk walk with the ball held above his head in both hands. After a few quick steps, he gathers momentum, exploding at the bowling crease with a hyperextended right elbow, a braced left knee. The orb that leaves his hand is now a weapon of destruction. It could shape in in the air, break away on pitching and hit top of off, like Reeza Hendricks found out. It could defy physics and tail in late, as Marco Jansen discovered to his utter shock.
It can also begin way outside off and keep coming in, homing in on toes and stumps as if radar-directed. Skeptical? Ask Ollie Pope. And it can grip and turn, delivered with a slight tweak of the fingers, pace taken off, and sneak through the defences to rattle timber. Phil Salt will nod his head, in grudging acceptance.
Is there anything Jasprit Bumrah can’t do with the cricket ball? Maybe bowl left-arm wrist-spin, yes, for now. But with right arm and fingers and wrist, there’s nothing he can’t do. Not to the right-hander, not to the left-hander. Not with a new cherry, not with an old ball. Not in Test cricket, not in the limited-overs variants. Bumrah is the most perfect bowler of his generation, distinctly unique, incredibly skilled, and unbelievably hard-working.
Ace Marksman
Even with a team replete with some of the most aesthetically bruising stroke-makers in the business, Rohit Sharma was aware that India’s campaign at the T20 World Cup would hinge around how his principal hitman shaped up. He had a maximum of 24 deliveries at his disposal in each outing, but those four overs could often be the difference between victory and defeat. And while he was allowed only 24 legal deliveries, their impact was such that around his overs, other bowlers would benefit. Not least Arshdeep Singh, Bumrah’s new-ball partner and understudy, the joint leading wicket-taker of the tournament alongside Afghan Fazalhaq Farooqi, with 17 sticks.
Bumrah slotted in third in that chart, but he was the bowler of the tournament and, officially – as if confirmation was required – the Player of the Tournament. His 15 wickets came at an average of 8.26, a strike-rate of 11.86 and the fairly ridiculous economy of 4.17. He bowled 29.4 of a potential 32 overs in eight matches and conceded just 12 boundaries – 10 fours and two sixes – out of a total 124 runs scored off his bowling; 26% of those runs, stats reveal, were when the batters were not in control.
These are cold, bland, mundane numbers, but even they tell a tale in themselves. What they don’t elucidate is just how much having Bumrah in their ranks lifted India, how much it cowed oppositions down.
Need of the hour
Imagine being Rohit, able to summon Bumrah to the bowling crease when he needed control, or wickets. In T20 cricket, one is not any more significant than the other at most times. Sometimes, a ‘control over’ can be more damaging than a double-wicket maiden. Like in the final. Axar Patel’s last over of what was otherwise a fantastic World Cup for him had gone for 24, Heinrich Klaasen embarking on a boundary-bashing spree. That humongous over brought the equation down to 30 needed off 30, six wickets in hand.
For most of the World Cup, Rohit has tended to use Bumrah maybe occasionally in the 16th, mainly in the 17th, and then reserved him for the 19th, which is generally delivered by the best bowler in the line-up. This time, after the Klaasen pyrotechnics, he needed breathing space. He needed someone who would bring about a modicum of sanity to the proceedings, a bankable option who would drag out the game, take the chase deeper. The option was a no-brainer.
Ask and he will deliver
Bumrah bowled a gun 16th. He knew his captain relied on him to pull things back. He knew the fate of the final hinged on how the 16th unfolded. He couldn’t have won the final in those six balls, but for all the magic he had produced in the preceding seven games, and in his first two overs in the title clash, he could have lost it. If he didn’t feel any nerves, he wouldn’t have been human. But wait, maybe he isn’t human, after all? Maybe he is super-human, above human, beyond human.
Bumrah was on top of his game, that over an event in itself. Just four singles. Four lopped off the target, but the ball was doing a little. Bumrah is dangerous even when the ball is doing nothing. When it’s doing a little, well…
Bumrah couldn’t have pulled it off all on his own. He could bowl just 25% of the 24 balls remaining, of which South Africa required 26. He needed help. He needed support. He needed more than one bowler to back him up. He found support in Hardik Pandya, and in Arshdeep, a protégé if there was one. But it was Bumrah who was the difference. By the proverbial country mile.
A lengthy gap between Bumrah’s 16th and Hardik’s 17th, to tend to Rishabh Pant’s knee injury, must have set the nerves jangling in Klaasen, for there is no other explanation for his optimistic waft at a widish first ball from Hardik which took the edge on its way to Pant. 26 off 23, enter Jansen. The odds still in South Africa’s favour, but the force and momentum with India, the despondency of ten minutes back replaced by the prospect of an astonishing heist. Danger man Klaasen gone, six Bumrah balls to go.
Rohit could have stuck to his template, brought Arshdeep on for the 18th, held Bumrah back for the next, but he went with gut. With instinct. With blind faith in his enforcer. Not for the first time, Bumrah didn’t let him down.
If No. 16 was awesome, No. 18 was out of the world. Out of This World, as the tournament’s catchline screamed from different parts of the ground. Two runs, Jansen packed off with a pearler, balance tilted, job nearly done.
More than a hitman
Bumrah is now eight and a half years young in international cricket, time enough for him to have graduated from just a bowler, no matter how complete, to a leader, to a mentor. He was done with the ball, yes, but he wasn’t done as a competitor. Already, he had showcased his leadership skills by walking up to Axar for a high-five after the 24-run over. After Quinton de Kock had smashed Arshdeep for six over long-leg, he thrice called out to the bowler from short third-man, and clapped furiously, encouraging his younger mate. A field change resulted in de Kock holing out to long-leg the next ball. Coincidence, for sure. Poor cricket from the Protean ’keeper, without a shadow of doubt. But Bumrah wasn’t just thinking about his own bowling. He was looking out for his colleagues. No wonder then, that Arshdeep concedes that several of his 17 wickets came about because of the pressure Bumrah imposed at the other end, because of the liberty batters felt they had to take against him because they would get nothing, absolutely nothing, from Bumrah.
This isn’t just romanticising the premier bowler in the world currently. If anything, words can’t do justice to what Bumrah is unleashing these days, ball after searching ball, over after probing over. You have to be at the ground to experience the electricity when he is at the top of his bowling mark. You have to witness first-hand the slightly haunted look on the batter’s face, never mind if he is Jos Buttler or Keshav Maharaj, David Warner or Naveen-ul-Haq, Babar Azam or Saurabh Netravalkar. They know they are in the crosshairs, and while Bumrah might be no Abhinav Bindra, he seldom misses.
A fortnight back, former Indian pacer Lakshmipathi Balaji had told this writer that Bumrah’s legacy as the second best Asian fast bowler ever after Wasim Akram would be cemented if, like the great Pakistan in the 1992 World Cup final against England, he could single-handedly deliver India this World Cup. Balaji reflected on the similarities between Bumrah and Akram – generating pace and momentum and power from the upper body rather than the lower, like most conventional quicks do. Using the bowling hand and the shoulder and the wrist and the fingers to weave their magic. Taking the pitch out of the equation. Balaji, himself having fought back from a career-threatening back injury to make an India comeback, was in awe of how much Bumrah had gotten better after his back surgery last year.
“He is just the most complete fast bowler right now. Look at him — Test cricket, white-ball cricket, doesn’t matter,” the Tamil Nadu coach had gushed. “New ball, he will get the job done. Old ball, he can reverse it phenomenally. Middle overs in limited-overs games, his variations and his repertoire make him a wicket-taker, not someone who just contains the flow of runs. If there is a more versatile and dangerous fast bowler right now, I don’t know who that is.”
You are not alone, Bala, you certainly are not. There is just Bumrah, daylight, and then the chasing pack.
