The stands around Trent Bridge were looking pretty thin by the time England’s opening batters made it out to the middle. Not that there were any spare tickets going, the first three days of the game are sold out, only plenty of the people who had bought them had beaten a retreat to the shady parts round the back of the ground. It was a pitiless day for cricket, and the back alleys were packed with people who had been defeated by the heat. They were stooped over the railings of the stairways, slouched along the walls of the indoor school and slumped in the shadow of the Radcliffe Road Stand.
There’s no shelter out in the middle. This is a hard Test, played for high stakes on an unforgiving wicket and under intense scrutiny. Some matches are defined by the deeds people achieve in them, others by the mistakes they make during them. And on a pitch like this, where the runs flow like melted butter, everyone watching is glaringly aware of every last little mistake made on the field. The errors are being measured in centuries.
