Freak it was cold. An icy wind blew through the stands, and the rain had the play stopping and starting, sessions extending and being shortened. It was hard to get into the groove of watching. The crowd shrunk, contracting in the cold. By the end of the day there were only brave and drunk souls left and they haunted the stands with wild lonely howls as the wind blew the litter from under the seats and sent it throughout the tiers.

The agony of the cold and the despair in the atmopshere was all worth bearing for one over sent down by Shoaib to Langer. The combat and all its serious melodrama was like pure heat. At one point mild-mannered little Justin had both umpires closing in on him at once, coming in quite close and telling him to cool it. Unfortunately the over came to an end and at that point the rain fell again and an early tea was taken, ending the Langer-Shoaib form that was building so impressively. As the teams walked off Langer ran past Shoaib and brushed shoulders with him, digging an elbow into his side, the two looked at each other and laughed. Boys playin around. It was all so great. It was all so deadly serious but at the same time it was just a bit of a (hot)comedy for the crowd.

It was also kind of nice to just sit there at times when the covers were on and watch the rain fill the oval, observing the grass bend under the weight of the hail stones that sat upon it.

The real highlight of the day though, was endless pots of hot jasmine tea and a steaming laksa noodle soup from New Wind after the game.