Tilak Varma thrives in a thriller as India and Pakistan play one of the edgiest games in a long time | Cricket News

Reminiscent of MS Dhoni, even though such comparisons are presumptuous, he sucked the pressure out of the contest. Before his arrival, pressure told; it creaked nerves, it cluttered decision making; it banished wisdom. India staged an inspired comeback, by bundling out Pakistan from 84 for 1 to 146 all out. But two and a half overs along in the chase, had found them tottering at 10 for 2. Faheem Ashraf exited the exciting Abhishek and let out a roar that could be heard in the sky-kissing terraces of Burj Khalifa, the tallest building in the world. For much of the tournament, India had depended on Abhishek for supersonic starts.

Blows landed on India, one after the other. In the next over, Shaheen Shah Afridi deceived Suryakumar Yadav with a devious off-cutter. The ball gripped on the surface, stopped at Suryakumar’s impatient willow and spooned to the mid-off fielder. Doubts lingered whether the catch was clean. The wait was long and agonising. But when the giant screen confirmed he was out, an explosion of joy burst in the stands with predominant Pakistan fans. Nine balls later, Shubman Gill’s tortured existence ended. He had just creamed the previous ball of Ashraf for a four, but an ambitious repeat hastened his downfall. The ball was slower and gripped off the surface. India stumbled to 20 for 3, and echoes of Champions Trophy 2017 rang aloud inside the arena.

The question was whether India could bounce back as they had in the second half of Pakistan innings with the ball. Tilak and Sanju Samson were convinced they would. Used to similar inconvenient moments in the IPL, they knew how to manoeuvre past a crisis. Well-schooled in the juggle-act of preserving wickets and sustaining the run-rate, they whirred along, intermittently hitting the boundaries and ticking along with the singles and twos. Both sweated profusely, but had an icy brain. They played no shot in panic or haste. Except for a dropped catch–Sanju shelled on 12 by Talat Hussain–there was barely an ado. Pakistan wilted.

Then came another twist. The score on 77, Sanju Samson squirted a catch to backward point, ending a stand of 57 that had kept India in the game. Pakistan renewed their hopes. Shortly, the required run rate nudged 10. They cursed their luck when they narrowly missed running out Tilak Varma. The match waited for another moment of drama. Tilak and Shivam Dube, shifting a gear, brought the run rate to a more achievable limit.

The 15th over was the turning point. Rauf’s overs were preserved for the middle and death. Salman Ali Agha deemed it was the ripe time to reintroduce his enforcer. Tilak decided to turn enforcer himself.

After Dube had cuffed him for a four, Tilak drilled a slower ball down the ground before he pulled him beyond the fence for a 17-run over that captured the game’s shifting tides. He often skipped out to the spinners or swayed deep in his crease, every now and then producing a violent swat-drive straight down the ground, left elbow not so much high as raking the ground.

Comebacks were the theme of the evening. The first twist in the game soon after Sahibzada Farhan’s departure. Pakistan were strolling along when he was induced into a false stroke. It was Varun Chakaravarthy’s scrambled-seam skidder. It blitzed into him after pitching. Farhan read the length, which was shortish and decided to slug the ball. But the ball skewered off the bottom half of his bat, powerless to the deep-midwicket fielder’s hands. At the stroke of the drinks breaks, with 84 runs on the board, India finally found benediction.

The moment roused India. Chakaravarthy, not expressive or emotional by nature, shrieked in raptures, swiped the air and kicked the turf in anger. He was swarmed by a pile of blue. India sensed something. They revved up the aggression, ratcheted the volume and chirped incessantly. Chakaravarthy was India’s most penetrative bowler. It was not so much of a death by variations as it was a strangle by subtle varying of pace, angles and length, besides the on-the-stumps line. He showed the way for his spin colleagues, who would soon join the spin party.

Kuldeep Yadav had endured a torrid evening, caned as he was by Sahibzada Farhan. He looked dejected and forlorn. But success is contagious and he rediscovered his scythe in the third over. After a pair of wides, a pat of encouragement from Bumrah, “aayega, aayega,” egging on from Sanju Samson, he produced his best ball, so far, in the game. He had been tempting Saim Ayub to cut, pushed him to the back-foot and tempted him with a widish length. But this one was quicker with considerable over-spin and not as short as Ayum had judged. The airy cut nestled in the swooping palms of Bumrah. Still Pakistan had the game in control.

But in the twitch of their finger-tips, the shocked Pakistan fans watched their team unravel in the most befuddling manner. History, a throbbing nerve for self-destructiveness might have calloused their minds, built immunity too, but that did not prevent them feeling crushed again. The hitherto slow walk to perdition gathered pace. Three balls into the 14th over, Axar Patel removed Mohammad Haris. India were now riding an unstoppable, undulating wave of belief. Here was a moment, and how they seized it like all great teams do.

As much Pakistan’s batsmen gift-wrapped the wickets, it was about them being nudged and pushed to calamity with unerringly suffocating bowling, unnerving aggression and unwavering energy on the field. For 18 balls, they did not leak a single boundary. The pressure piled, dizzying the sensibilities of Pakistan batsmen. Soon, 114 for 2 became 134 for 8, collapsing as only Pakistan could. None of them would want to rewatch their exit-shots, a montage of hacks, hoicks and slogs.

Only Haris Rauf could excuse himself, as he got a rocket from Bumrah. And his executioner flew an imaginary aircraft, but in banter than anger. Kuldeep, whose first two overs read 2-0-23-0, returned with another match-defining figures of 4-0-30-4. But Tilak would steal the thunder from him.