Siraj, the Spin, and the Stunner at Lord’s: The Freak Ball That Sealed a Thriller
On a cool, tense evening at Lord’s, where cricketing history hangs as heavily as the summer mist, Mohammed Siraj stood tall—then was undone by a ball that might forever be remembered not for its brilliance, but for its absurdity.
With 22 runs needed and just one wicket remaining, the fate of an epic Test match rested on Siraj’s shoulders. And he was holding firm. Thirty balls of discipline, grit, and defiance had kept India in the game. Ravindra Jadeja was at the other end, calm as ever, nudging India toward what seemed like an impossible heist.
But then came the moment. The delivery. The bizarre, logic-defying, physics-bending ball from Shoaib Bashir.
And just like that, it was all over.
The Setup: Lord’s, Tension, and Grit
This wasn’t supposed to be the moment of the match. Not from this bowler, not to this batter, and not with such an innocuous-looking delivery. But cricket often finds its drama in the unexpected.
India, chasing 193 for victory, had stumbled early and hard. From 82 for 7, a counterattack followed—first Jadeja and Bumrah, then Jadeja and Siraj. They pushed, prodded, and survived. England’s bowlers, barring Jofra Archer’s bursts of hostility, seemed to run out of ideas.
Shoaib Bashir, playing with a broken finger, returned from the Pavilion End. The ball he bowled in the 75th over didn’t scream danger. There was no exaggerated spin, no drift, no vicious bounce. Just a regulation off-break, looped into Siraj, a right-hander with limited batting credentials but a strong, straight bat.
Siraj did everything right. Soft hands. Dead bat. Perfect technique. He met the ball in the middle of the bat. And yet, seconds later, the bails were on the ground, the stumps disturbed, and England had won by 22 runs.
A Dismissal That Made No Sense
On first viewing, the ball barely turned. It didn’t dart through the gate. It wasn’t a doosra or a carrom ball or a wicked slider. And yet, somehow, it had done the unthinkable.
Replays told a story no coach prepares a batter for.
- The ball landed on a rough patch, spun into the bat.
- Hit the meat of the bat—middle of the blade.
- Changed direction—not just off the pitch, but off the bat.
- Landed again—off the deflection, and spun once more.
- This second bounce caused the ball to straighten, and just gently kiss the leg stump.
- The wooden bail toppled, and so did India’s hopes.
It was a dismissal that defied logic, cricketing geometry, and even good fortune.
Jarrod Kimber Breaks It Down
Cricket analyst Jarrod Kimber summed it up on his Good Areas podcast:
“It was as good as a number 11 could be expected to play. Siraj did everything right. He got behind it, soft hands, middle of the bat. But it was too perfect. That soft contact allowed the ball to keep moving. The ball spun not once, but again after the bat. Landed awkwardly, changed angle, and brushed the stump.”
According to Kimber, if Siraj had played the ball more aggressively, the ball would’ve died in front of him. If he’d missed it altogether, the ball might’ve missed the stumps entirely. Ironically, his correct defence made the dismissal possible.
It was not a traditional “magic ball”—no Shane Warne “ball of the century” theatrics. Instead, it was a technical anomaly, a trickle with top-spin, trajectory, slope, and misfortune aligning to produce a heartbreaker.
The Slope, the Footmarks, and Bashir’s Broken Finger
Lord’s has a unique slope—2.5 metres from one side of the pitch to the other—that subtly influences deliveries, especially for spinners. Bashir, bowling from the Pavilion End, used that slope to his advantage. Add to that the worn footmarks, the unpredictable bounce, and the ball’s second bounce after deflection—and you had a cocktail of cricketing chaos.
What made it even more incredible was that Bashir was bowling with an injured hand. His finger was taped, his grip compromised. But on a day when everything aligned, even a compromised spinner produced a match-winning moment.
Siraj’s Tears, Jadeja’s Gaze
As the bails flew, Siraj dropped to his knees. The 30 balls he had faced—arguably the most determined of his career—came to naught. Ravindra Jadeja, undefeated at the other end, stared into the distance in disbelief. He had taken India from hopelessness to the brink of an iconic chase. And now, it was all undone.
India’s dressing room stood stunned. They had clawed back from 82 for 7 to within a single partnership of victory. And it ended not with a poor shot, but with a ball that spun like a ghost.
England’s Relief, India’s Regret
For England, it was relief more than celebration. The victory kept the series alive. Ben Stokes later admitted they thought India would pull it off. The comeback from the lower order had put the pressure squarely on England, and one mistake might have cost them the Test.
But cricket isn’t always about mistakes. Sometimes, it’s about moments that make no sense, and that’s what this was.
India will rue the failure of their top order. Had even one batter hung around with Jadeja, the game could have ended differently. But the fight shown by Jadeja, Bumrah, and Siraj was something to admire.
A Delivery That Will Be Remembered
Cricket has seen weird dismissals before—balls that rolled, bounced twice, or got stuck in helmets. But Siraj’s Lord’s moment wasn’t a joke. It wasn’t slapstick. It was a serious cricketing anomaly, one that will feature in “you had to see it to believe it” compilations for years.
It showed how, in Test cricket, the margins are razor-thin. A millimetre’s difference in angle, contact, or timing—and the ball trickles to midwicket rather than onto the stumps.
What Lies Ahead
India now heads to Manchester for the fourth Test, trailing in the series but with confidence intact. They will hope for better performances at the top and fewer freak events at the bottom. For Siraj, the dismissal will sting—but it also underlines his growth as a lower-order batter and a fighter.
Sometimes, you lose not because you made a mistake, but because cricket found a way.
On that day at Lord’s, the game had its final say.
And it chose chaos.
IT.
