1) You’re watching cricket. Test cricket: you watch a lot of it. You love test cricket; you love it.
2) You love test cricket because, over time, you know you witness salient moments: turning points; tipping points; history’s causational points; epochally instrumental points; trigger points; puncture points; never-be-the-same-again points. Across your perfect five days, you witness these points.
3) The dropped catch; the run-too-many; the umpire’s blunder; the leg before; the toss; the field; the caught catch; the injury; the rain delay; the sclaff; the thinnest edge…
4) You love test cricket – ‘I was there when history was made’ – the almanac your alibi.
5) But there are so many of such points, and you are so close to them as witness, you cannot know which is that moment, that point, the point beyond which things tipped and are now different.
6) You see the serried moments as you would see words on a page you do not read.
7) And you love not knowing: your five-day pitched attention belies the fear of facing the moment.
8) Howzat! Or that? Or that? Or this?