Okay so I gotta be honest, cricket analysis isn’t usually my jam for sharing my own experiences. But this title popped into my head: “What makes him the new god of cricket in all formats?” Frankly, it felt bold, maybe even clickbaity, but it got me thinking. Could I figure out the top 3 reasons why one player suddenly dominates everything? So, like I always do when curious, I decided to dive in and try to build my own understanding.
Starting Simple: Just Watching Different Games
My first step wasn’t fancy. I just plonked myself down and watched a bunch of matches – the long, five-day grind, the one-day marathons, and the super-fast, blink-and-you-miss-it stuff. I focused purely on this one player everyone’s raving about.
What did I do? I kept my phone away, grabbed an old notebook, and just jotted down anything that caught my eye:
- When did he score runs? Was it when the team was struggling? Or cruising? Against spin bowling? Against super-fast stuff?
- How did he play? Was he being super cautious one day and hitting out wildly the next?
- His face… Sounds silly, but I looked at his expression. Was he frustrated easily? Did pressure make him crack?
Watched him in all three formats over maybe a week or two, whenever games were on.
Comparing Apples, Oranges, and Bananas (Test, ODI, T20)
This is where my little experiment got interesting for me. I dug out my scribbles from the different game types and laid them out side-by-side.
Big “Aha!” Moment #1: Frankly, I was expecting a specialist in one format who was just okay in others. Nope. The consistency across formats genuinely shocked me. Whether it was surviving nasty bowling on a tough pitch for three days or smacking sixes every ball in a frantic chase, he got the job done. Not the exact same way, but effectively. That felt like Reason Number One: He just scores runs everywhere, against everyone. Simple, but true.
Next up: Adapting? More Like Shape-Shifting!
Looking closer, I realized how he changed his game. It wasn’t just hitting harder in fast games or being more careful in long ones.
- In the slow, strategic games? He batted time. Took hours building an innings.
- Mid-length games? He built momentum, mixed caution with aggression.
- Super-fast games? Pure instinct, clearing the ropes almost on demand.
It felt almost unnatural! Like watching someone physically shrink and grow depending on the format. This flexibility seemed huge. That felt like Reason Number Two: He morphs his style perfectly for each game’s demands. No one-trick pony here.
Testing the “Nerve” Factor
Okay, stats and technique are one thing. But everyone talks about the “pressure cooker” moments. So I hunted down videos of those clutch situations:
- Last over, team needs 20 to win.
- Stuck in the trenches, fighting to save the game.
- Whole stadium screaming against him.
And… his face. Man, it was unnerving. Whether he succeeded or failed in that moment, the look was often the same – intense focus, almost detached. Didn’t seem flustered. Didn’t seem scared. Made mistakes? Sure. But panic? Rarely saw it bubble up visibly. This mental steeliness seemed crucial for dominating all formats. Why? Because the pressure is huge in every single one, just in different flavors. So, Reason Number Three clicked: Ice water runs in his veins under pressure.
Putting My Theory to the Test (and Getting Burnt)
Alright, so I identified these three things from my couch analysis: Consistent Runs, Format Flexibility, Nerves of Steel.
Feeling a bit cocky, I thought, “How hard can it be to try and be adaptable?” So I hit the nets with my buddies. My grand plan? Try batting differently based on different “format” scenarios we invented.
- First “simulation”: Three-day grind mode (15 minutes of blocking everything). Got bored out of my skull on minute 5.
- Second: ODI mode (mix it up). Succeeded only in confusing myself and getting bowled trying a stupid fancy shot.
- Third: T20 mode (smash everything). Lasted maybe 8 balls before missing completely and looking like a fool.
I came out sweaty, frustrated, and humbled. My “flexibility”? Non-existent. My focus wandered during the “long grind”. I choked hard when my mates started chirping during the “T20 phase”. It slammed home how incredibly difficult mastering even one aspect consistently across formats really is.
I might understand the why a bit better from watching closely and trying awkwardly myself. But actually doing it consistently, adapting instantly, and staying ice-cool? That’s why he gets the “god” title talk, and I walked off the practice field muttering.
