As I sat down to the computer this morning with Leo (my own lucky lion) I was anticipating a bit of history. England, you see, hadn't beaten Australia at Lord's since 1934. 75 years of hurt, they've been called, and while Red Sox fans may pish and tish at such a small number, how many World Series had they lost in their 86 years? *Actually lost* in that period of time?
Answer: 4.
So don't talk about anguish to England, whose Most Hated Archrival has made a tradition of coming to the Home of Cricket every four years for seven plus decades and delivering a beating.
And we were 5 wickets away from that most blessed victory. All England needed was to break up a 185-run partnership under blue skies. No problem, right? I mean, we had how many runs to play with? 200?
200???Ye Gods. Any decent side could get that in 4 hours. This was not going to be a walk in the park...
If England were going to make it happen, someone would have to step up, and fast...
Much has been said about Andrew "Freddie" Flintoff's retirement from Tests. He was The Man 4 years ago, and his injury-prone body just doesn't have enough to continue in this form of the game.
Would it hold up for four more Tests?
Would it hold up for one?
There can be no doubt how Freddie views himself - as all England supporters view him - The Gladiator. The One. With every ball he bowled, the crowd gasps, erupts, releases pent up anxiety, joy, aggression.
And with his fourth ball of the day, he made the breakthough.
The Game was, for all intents and purposes, on.
What followed was the most aggressive, leonine, KINGLY hour of bowling I've ever witnessed. Watch his dimissals of Hauritz and Siddle. Both balls seamed in three feet off the pitch at 93 miles an hour.
You couldn't have stopped them with a snow shovel.
Particularly intriguing was Flintoff's expulsion of Siddle. He had four wickets, and with two bowlers left, he was bowling his last over of the match (his injured knee still isn't right, and resting him was the priority with the match all but won).
He had only two five-wicket hauls in his career, and none at Lord's. The first five balls of his over were fierce, but Siddle blocked and dodged until the sixth... was padded away for no run.
But wait.
A no-ball!
With a grin (of thanks, perhaps?) to the umpire, Freddie strode back well short of his mark to take his final run in to a batsman at Lord's.
Unbelieveable.
Someday I'll tell Leo he was there for most of it - that I fed him bottles while we listened to Freddie bowl that day. That we sat and listened to a warrior -
a gladiator - take on the best team in the world, and cut them down one by one.
And the comparison is not one I make lightly. Andrew "Freddie" Flintoff is every bit the fighter Maximus Decimus Meridius was. After all, who was in the commentator's booth on the second day of the Lord's Test match?
Forshadowing?
Destiny?
All I know is that Flintoff's bowling today will indeed echo in Eternity.
