It arrives with a thunk through the door. It’s only little – 10.26 x 4.34 x 19.23cm – but possesses a heft that belies its corporeal state. That will be the molecularly thin pages, all 1,616 of them, crammed into an impossibly compact space, which chronicle the previous year’s runs and wickets and talking points.
But that only half explains the metaphysics at play. It’s too heavy to be a mere recounting of the observable world. Hold one up and raise it high. Feel the weight of it and notice how it seems to change size in your hand like Sauron’s ring. Something spiritual is at work here.
