Ten balls ago, he uncorked a stroke so ferocious that it felt the knife India was twisting on New Zealand’s soul. Tim Southee bowled a full ball, just outside the off-stump, in search of swing with the new ball. All the bowler could see was the cracking whiplash of a bat-swing uncorked from Pant’s velcro wrists. Or he might not have seen the shot at all, but just realised from the sound that it had travelled a light years’ distance.

The New Zealand veteran would have wondered why Pant picked him out for executing his most breathtaking strokes. In the first session, Pant smote him down the ground, as flat a six as it could be that left a red dent on the wall near the sight-screen. Pant’s capacity to produce counterpunching knocks, the ability to process the flow of the match and redirect in the way he wants to continue to wow.

The morning began with doubts of whether he would bat at all after picking an injury on his operated knee. But the sight of him jogging with a blue brace on his knees and taking throw-downs allayed the fears. And then he ambled in, lifting the mood of the audience. For the next three hours, he kept them on the edge off the seats with a typical rope-a-dope knock. Like most of his counterattacking masterclasses, he didn’t look to hit every ball out of the ground. He rarely does, rather waits for the right ball at the right time, even though his definition of a right ball is an ambiguous notion. He finds balls other batsmen defend hittable.

When Southee—oh poor Southee again!—tried to bait him with a short of length ball outside the off-stump, he just manoeuvred it through slip and gully. One four didn’t open the floodgates of many more. He waits for his moments to pounce. There is an under-appreciated layer of discretion about him. This innings, he didn’t attempt reverse sweeps or ramps early on. There was only one such instance when he reverse-swept Rachin Ravindra when he was on 75.

Bengaluru: India’s Rishabh Pant returns to pavilion after being dismissed by New Zealand’s William O’Rourke on the fourth day of the first test cricket match between India and New Zealand, at the M Chinnaswamy Stadium, in Bengaluru, Saturday, Oct. 19, 2024. (PTI Photo/Shailendra Bhojak)

But he cannot resist the lure of left-arm spinners. Ajaz Patel winced and cursed himself as Pant ferried him into the upper tiers of the stadium, twice in the space of three balls. The visitors—left reeling by two lbw shouts, both referred in vain—devised futile plans to contain him. Once they placed three men behind point and invited him to cut the spinners. Rather than resisting, he took on the challenge and cut Glenn Phillips to the right of backward point.

He hit on well with Sarfaraz Khan. The pair batted as though they had been friends for ages, enjoying each other’s success and batting, encouraging each other, cracking jokes, giggling and at times, passing on advice and clearing doubts. Apart for a horrible mix-up, they batted with telepathic communication and joie de vivre. Between change of overs, they rushed for mid-pitch talks. They could relate to each other’s life, the migration to a metro city, the ensuing hardships, setbacks, and the absolute conviction in their ability that eventually triumphed. They could understand each other’s games too, the unorthodoxy, and the daring in their stroke-making. Two kindred spirits who could man India’s lower middle-order for years and savour several such comeback tales. The 177-run stand in 35 overs took the stuffings out of New Zealand’s resistance. “We were like we batted in a similar situation in Duleep Trophy last month, and we were like let’s get back to Duleep Trophy mode,” said Sarfaraz.

But the evening ended in disappointment for Pant, his team and the crowd. Not that he missed a milestone but that his exit precipitated a collapse that could cost India the game. It could be a 99 that Pant would regret, not for the one run he didn’t score but the calamity his wicket brought.