Noise had been increasing throughout the evening but it really reached its climax in the last over. You had a feeling that something was about to happen– and Sanju Samson did not wink.
He had left early, the Chennai heat still in the air, and started in a way which was nearly. quiet. No hurry, no showy purpose. The gentle hands, pokes and prods in the spaces, the drive of check. When he was in the press box it appeared that he was mapping the field ball by ball. As the wickets went down at the other end–and they went, here and there–Samson changed but little. One look at the turf, one word with the non-striker, and back to position.
During the middle overs, the innings might have been lost. Chennai Super Kings were not flying that well, and Mumbai Indians were continuing to score. Fielders cheered and bowlers stood a second longer on their mark.But Samson. he only kept on ticking. But Samson… he just kept ticking. Single things were doubled, twos at times became sharp edges. There was a flick off the pads which brought a roar, and a late cut so fine it scarcely stirred up the gloves of the keeper. The shift could be detected by this time.
And yet, it was not domination as T20 is commonly understood. It was control. He was not gambling to gamble. Instead, he waited. Waited until length balls rose, to allow field to get up sufficiently. It was not like a gear change when he finally opened up, rather it was like a natural release. The timing sharpened. The bat swing was making it free. And out of the blue, Chennai had a solid foundation to stand on.
When the last over came, the game had transformed, the survival to statement. Samson was in 90s. The dressing room was upon its feet, several of the players half out of their places already. First ball: he made out a big one, missed. A murmur. Second ball, a single opportunity, he rejected. That elicited a response. You might have seen him wave, near bidding his companion remain. This was his time.
And next was pure nerve. A line blasted through cover – precise, intentional. Then a second effort, which had been unsound. The field approached, the bowler paused. And the finish, then. In the arc full, and Samson never missed. The crack resounded, the ball flew off, and he waited a second more. Century. Unbeaten 101. The mob broke out and the Chennai bench bounced over.
It was not only the milestone but the manner in which he reached the milestone. Keep calm, no short cuts. Only a simple strategy, implemented at the last moment.
What this knock implies to CSK and Samson.
This was more than mere runs on the board to Chennai. It gave them shape. In a game where alliances never really worked, Samson was the glue, the binding element. The sum that had seemed questionable now seemed aggressive, even arrogant.
This was another step in what is shaping up to be a very consistent T20 career to Samson. He has long been regarded as a flashy man, with his noticeable strokes. But this was different–this. This had to do with responsibility. On having the game read, and then playing it at his own speed and finishing.
And as the players took their departure, you still could hear the talk at the stands. Not of the hundred, but of the last over. The denial of a single. The belief.
Some innings entertain.This was one. it lingered with you. This one… it stayed with you.
