‘The pictures on my war-or-or-oror-all / are about to swing and fall. Love it. All’.

(Yes this IS an old pic. Dead phone – see below).

Yeh that kindof day. Late for a hospital appointment in Pembs; phone slides across dashboard (YES I KNOW) and (asitappens) out of the fully open car window. I think it’s fallen inside… and besides I’m late for l’hopital… so crack on.

Brisk check, parked outside Withybush. Not looking good. Appointment fine – thankyou. Return with advanced-level-angst to scene of phone departure. It’s crushed, in the road. Later I watch a wee bit of Gauff Muchova. More gut-wrenchin’ swingin’ an’ fallin’. But I’m in Bristol.

Have a little time to try to fix my second VW window-fail. Electrics, driver’s-side gone. Somewhere near Bridgend the whole pane drops inside the door. On the plus side it was about 130 degrees as I drove in but boy did I not like that. Me and Alex sort an overnight exclusion zone, with board. A-and relax.

Starving but curry imminent – India, see? Absolutely baking outside; absolutely stunningly cool in the media centre. (Thankyou, people!). An hour out from the action. Bit gutted I can’t walk round a nd make another glibtastic video… but NEW PHONE not yet charged. Maybe it’s a blessing?

India win the toss and will bat. The light is still searing and almost painfully delicious. (Bat in shades, lads). I have just eaten about three hundredweight of curry and side-wotsits. Magnificent – genuine, heartfelt and humble thanks – I know I’m not worthy.

I have been here many times, including once or twice when the Meedya Posse wanted to stab the in-house air-conditioning engineer through the eyeballs, it was so cold. Today, we are carrying him/her round the city at shoulder height, feeding grapes. 17.22 and the flag-bearers are assembled, including a tiny tot in the pinkest of floppys you’ll ever see. It’s a truly splendid summer evening and there is a crowd – of course there is.

Some bloke called Joffra Something will open for England. From underneath us. Some young whipper-snapper is facing; a leftie; allegedly 9 years old. Legside wide. There is bounce. The young fella has to parry more than once, early-doors. He is 2 not out after 3 balls. His partner, Sharma, slightly miscues another one pitching around leg-stump; no dramas. The visitors are 5 for 0 after 1.

Tongue will follow, from Ashley Down. Sooryavanshi goes fearlessly hands-through, as is his wont and hoists over extra. Four. Then another, then a six over third man. He’s almost impossible to bowl to – although I’m not sure going short of length is wise.

When Archer returns, the Wee Prodigy clatters again… and again… but the latter undoes him – skying to mid-wicket. Make your own judgement(s): it was thrilling and slogging and (mindlessly?) mindful of the run-rate, the powerplay, and the Modern Game. The crowd loved it. 22 for 1.

Tongue is a taaall bastard: legs are 6 feet two. I know this because he’s come to a sort of gully-on-the-circle, beneath us. Replaced by Jacks, coming round. Ishan Kishan eases him through the covers. 32 for 1 after 4 and Tongue has switched ends. But goes leg stump and is eased square. Next up another skier… taken with care at backward point. Ishan Kishan has to walk: his team are a little on the edge at 32 for 2.

Can’t quite make my mind up re- whether Tongue *actually does* take short, staccato strides for a big man, when running in, or not? He’s no Michael Holding, anyway, in terms of aesthetics. He’s bowled a couple just a tad too straight – but maybe you could argue this is likely to happen if bowlers bowl one over spells(?) Curran is in from underneath those flats. In and on middle, first up.

Suddenly struck by how green the outfield looks. Having played cricket in North Glos on Tuesday, at a notably parched but lovely Redmarley CC, this would suggest pretty extravagant watering. Rashid dances in and cashes in, to claim a caught and bowled: the skying tendency shifts towards an epidemic. India 3-down relatively early again.

As Tongue did, Archer has changed ends. He goes ver-ry quickly (or so it seemed) at Shreyas, but remarkably the batter arches his back, tilts and guides the ball over the keeper off an open blade. Ridiculous – and to be honest, about 45% self-protection. Now Curran from the Pavilion End, notably slapping the ball in at Dube. Ar Sam bowls a lot of deliveries that pitch on middle. He has a ridcu-slower ball, too, which he treats us to at the end of the over. 64 for 3 after 9, India.

Tongue changes ends again, again. Shivam says ‘thankyou’ for the width and puts him away through cover. The game feels fast-paced: credit to England if they are trying to get overs completed smartly. That’s not always the case – obvs. Drinkipoos with the visitors on 71 for 3. Feels a little down on par. (*Fatal*).

Wherever India play they have numbers: I mean in the crowd. In my experience this means families – whole families, with gramps, nanas and tiddlers – as much as it means middle-aged sportsblokes. They’re in, tonight and it’s great. Noisy; hearty; overwhelmingly good-natured.

Curran is in with a biggish appeal. I have a great view of this – down the strip – and looks leggy to me. (It was). Shreyas and Shivam are nudging this forward but it still feels a tad light. (50 partnership up, but 100 up in the 14th over – is that gonna cut it? Some brave and athletic fielding in the deep, from England, supports the squeeze.

Banton takes another skier, this time off Jacks. (Fairly ugly heave, going straight but high, from Shivam, safely pouched). Shreyas goes classically and effectively inside out to thrash Rashid over extra: four. Then a drag-down gets just desserts; clattered into the crowd to a fabulous roar. 116 for 4 after 15. Meaning about 160 tops? England still ahead, methinks. (*Fatal 2*).

There are LOTS of people out on their balconies in the flats towards Ashley Down Road. They can almost catch Tilak Varma, as he swivels and hoists Tongue behind, spectacularly. But another brief high for the Indian support, as the batter cuffs rather tamely to Rehan Ahmed at backward point, next ball. 130 for 5 at the end of the 17th over. It strikes me that England have been error-free. Whilst this is not the same as being brilliant, it’s the kind of marker-post you would want, on that journey.

Skipper Shreyas moves to 76 with six, four, six, off Rashid. Important. India are 150 off 18. Sam Curran must hold the charge. He deceives Washington Sundar with a slower ball.