Tim Southee bowls during the sixth day of the World Test Championship cricket final between New Zealand and India in England. Photo / AP
Tim Southee bowls during the sixth day of the World Test Championship cricket final between New Zealand and India in England. Photo / AP
LIFE AND POLITICS
I'm not proud, I wavered at the end. The anxiety, the pressure, the fatigue got to me. I choked and went to bed around 1am.
The Black Caps were on not much, no wickets down, Latham and Conway at the crease. The target only 139 runs, but on this AgeasBowl pitch, against this Indian bowling attack, it wasn't going to be easy.
I couldn't shake nightmare visions of Pakistani speedsters Waqar Younis and Wasim Akram skittling New Zealand for 93 all out, chasing 127 at Seddon Park in 1993.
If I went to bed, I would save myself the stress. Better to wake in a few hours and watch the game reach its conclusion, either way.
Day six had already provided great drama. Early in the evening, when Kohli nicked one behind off Jamieson, you could start to believe.
Then Pujara. Ross Taylor pouching a catch at first slip. Followed by disaster. The dangerous Rishabh Pant dropped by Tim Southee at second slip. The agony!
Southee lying distraught on the ground, the red Dukes ball on the grass next to him. That was it, I thought. It's not going to happen. My mind went to dark places immediately. I went for another bowl of cereal.
I came back to endless repeats of the dropped catch. It should have been taken. Southee's normally a good catcher. He has a 93 per cent success rate, the statistics gurus tell us.
Tim Southee (centre) drops a catch of India's Rishabh Pant during the sixth day of the World Test Championship final. Photo / AP
Yet this was the third catch he'd dropped on this tour. He'd spilled one in India's first innings.
I could see the headlines: Southee drops chance to win the inaugural test championship. Pant moved from five into the 40s. India weren't too far away from saving the game or setting New Zealand a tough target.
The cameras kept going back to Southee. The commentators kept mentioning the drop. Leave him alone, he's suffering enough!
The tone in Craig McMillan's voice told you what he was thinking: the dropped catch may have cost New Zealand the game.
How do sportspeople stand it? The scrutiny, the pressure, the finger-pointing? Cricket is the cruellest game.
It was a strange innings by Pant, though. Charging down the pitch to have giant wallops at balls swinging away from his off stump.
He missed all of them ... until he didn't. An outside edge goes sky high. The commentator (Nasser Hussain was it?) says that'll be taken.
But it's gone way up. No New Zealand fielder is comfortably under it. Henry Nichols is sprinting from gully.
In real time, there's confusion. The widescreen camera shot doesn't give you a clear view of the catch being taken. There's a moment of not knowing, before it's confirmed, Pant is out!
The replays show what a stunning catch it was. Difficult at any time, but under those circumstances, with so much at stake.
The remaining wickets fall quickly. Southee bags two of them. He finishes with four, the most in the innings.
As is cricketing tradition, it's his honour to walk across the boundary rope first, his teammates behind him.
The TV coverage shows Southee reluctant to step out in front. Wagner gives him a little push. Southee relents and crosses the boundary rope first, the camera on him.
He's applauded for his bowling, but his 30 runs with the bat were crucial. His most important innings for New Zealand.
Yet how different might it have been had Pant gone on to make a bigger score. Southee said after the game that those 139 runs felt like the longest he'd ever sat through. Not the option for him to take to his bed.
I awoke and rejoined the run chase around 3.30am with Williamson and Taylor at the crease halfway to the total.
Two wickets had fallen in quick succession to Ashwin. These two had soaked up the pressure.
New Zealand could do it from here. The batting was mostly assured; the Indian fast bowlers were tiring.
An exquisite cover drive to the boundary by Williamson was the moment I dared to truly believe. The last 30 runs came quickly. Relief and joy.
It's an odd thing how some of us get so deeply involved in watching a game. Test cricket being one of the oddest that humans have devised. It's absurd, really.
At heart, it's a chance for a story to unfold. We love a narrative that reflects life's ups and downs, disappointments and triumphs, with opportunities for individuals under pressure to shine.
The Black Caps ascending the test cricket ladder to No.1 is just a very good story. If you've been following that story since the 1980s, then you know how much it means.
• Northern Advocate columnist Vaughan Gunson writes about life and politics
