There is a taste to a session, how it unravels, the way the fielders move, who bowls first up – Yeah, Flintoff was there. No chances, new ball at Australia, new day at them too.
Australia wanted to score, but they could barely breathe. Asphyxiation a third party sport, if you watched, there was no way you weren’t sucked in.
And Freddie ballet man, after each wicket, down on a knee, applause! - there was no final curtain – it was encore after encore.
Such heavy balls he bowled, it wasn’t just speeds of 92 mph, it was the weight of each delivery – Clarke and Haddin, merrymakers till last night, badly hung-over now.
The day was seized, and we watched Flintoff seize each moment of the little day – what the devil got into him now?
Can he survive the next test, does that matter – Flintoff has won Lord’s, broken the 75 year old Voodoo, so let him go lounge.
Could you please make Sir Freddie a drink, he is thirsty. Earlier he was hungry and had Australia.