The A Team

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Eleven come-from-behind performances that set the World Cup alight

Rob Smyth
Rob Smyth
28-Feb-2007

The Test match will always be cricket's Everest, but the contours of the one-day game can be even steeper. The furious pace and concentrated format mean that once a team slips behind, it can be extremely difficult to come back. It requires a monumental fusion of will, skill, and thrill - as these XI come-from-behind performances of World Cups past prove.

Deryck Murray and Andy Roberts, Edgbaston 1975


Deryck Murray: a backs-to-the-wall win at Edgbaston in 1975 © The Cricketer
In one-day cricket, the greatest concern is usually running out of overs rather than wickets. Here it was the other way round: Murray and Roberts still had 15 overs in which to get the 64 runs needed to beat Pakistan. They did not need Louis Armstrong to tell them that they had all the time in the world. But they might have wanted some advice from Neil Armstrong on going where nobody had gone before: as the last pair, they needed what was then a World Cup-record 10th-wicket partnership for victory. They got it, proving that one-day rewards need not necessarily be commensurate with risk, coolly knocking the ball around to turn the impossible into improbable into possible into probable into fantastic reality.
Kapil Dev v Zimbabwe, Tunbridge Wells, 1983
The cliché of the middle classes enjoying a bit of rough has never been truer than here, when Kapil Dev strode into the bourgeois surroundings of Tunbridge Wells to perpetrate an assault as visceral and brutal as any in World Cup history. As captain he had got India into the mess by choosing to bat first on a seaming monster; he got them out of it by rising like a sea monster to engulf Zimbabwe. Coming in with India 9 for 4, and facing humiliation at 17 for 5 soon after, Kapil smeared an extraordinary 175 from just 138 balls, including 16 fours and six sixes. The next highest score was Syed Kirmani's 24 not out. Kapil scored 69 per cent of India's runs off the bat from just 37 per cent of the deliveries. For good measure he then took the final wicket in a 31-run victory. Defeat would have left India in serious danger of missing out on the semi-finals; instead, a week later, they were world champions.
Allan Lamb v West Indies, Gujranwala 1987
Why pick on someone your own size when you can bully someone bigger? Of all the perverse sights in World Cup history, that of Allan Lamb reducing Courtney Walsh to tears is right up there. England were seemingly dead and buried in Gujranwala, 162 for 7 and needing 82 from the last nine overs. But Lamb had mastered an even greater escape against Australia and Bruce Reid a year earlier, and he chipped and chivvied England to another improbable victory here with an unbeaten 67. In the end, he and Neil Foster needed 13 from Walsh's last over: they got them in three legitimate deliveries. After an immaculate opening spell of 5-0-11-0, Walsh had gone for 54 in 4.3 overs. Even for this giant of a man, it was all too much to bear.


Inzamam brought Pakistan back from the brink against New Zealand in 1992 © Getty Images
Inzamam-ul-Haq v New Zealand, Auckland 1992
With his hangdog gait and run of low scores, Inzamam was a loping wicket at his first World Cup. But his captain Imran Khan knew he had a special talent on his hands, and Inzy finally proved it in the semi-final against the co-hosts New Zealand. When he came to the crease Pakistan, needing 123 from 15 overs, were being squeezed to death by New Zealand's phalanx of dobbers. It was turning into one big carnival of Kiwi cricket, but Inzamam, like a lumbering, friendly bear inadvertently wreaking havoc at a circus, demolished one attraction after another. Chris Harris was hoicked savagely for four and then driven dreamily over long-off for a slow-motion, will-it-won't-it six; Gavin Larsen was flayed through the covers; the secret weapon, Dipak Patel, was pulled savagely for two fours in one over. Inzamam, fleet of foot and foppish of appearance, roared to a stunning 60 from 37 balls before being run out, but he had set Pakistan up for victory - and he proved it was no one-off with another assault on England in the final.
Aravinda de Silva v India, Kolkata 1996
Sri Lanka's famous World Cup victory is synonymous with their hammer-throwing openers Sanath Jayasuriya and Romesh Kaluwitharana, but the feather touch of Aravinda de Silva was arguably of even greater importance. In the semi-final against India, Sri Lanka were 1 for 2 in the first over after both openers were caught at third man; enter the third match-winner, de Silva, surely to consolidate. Not a bit of it. Asanka Gurusinha fell soon after, but de Silva breezed to an exquisite 32-ball 50, pinging boundary after boundary through the cover ring. It was pinch-stroking of the highest order, with 14 fours in a 47-ball 66. At the time it seemed like a glorious cameo; as the game progressed, and every other batsman laboured on a slow pitch, it became a minor epic. With defeat looming later in the day, India's fans settled the match by rioting. But it was the quiet riot of de Silva that really decided it.
Shane Warne v West Indies, Chandigarh 1996
It was as routine as one-day run-chases get: West Indies needed 47 runs from 10 overs with eight wickets left. But the situation was anything but routine: this was a World Cup semi-final against the mighty Australia, and it was all a bit too easy. West Indies could not handle the prospect of victory; Shane Warne could not countenance the prospect of defeat. Nobody judged the temperature of a contest better than Warne, and when he gauged it one lundefinedast time, he sensed that West Indies were getting hot and bothered. Immediately Warne was on them, ripping his legbreaks - and the initiative back towards Australia; imposing his will, and breaking that of his opponents. This was Warne at his confidence-trickster best, seducing West Indies into thinking they had to charge to victory when in fact they could have walked it. Amid some farcical slogging, the last seven batsmen scored just 10 runs. Warne cleaned up Ottis Gibson, Jimmy Adams, and Ian Bishop in a spell of 3 for 6, before Damien Fleming rounded off a stunning five-run victory with the wicket of Courtney Walsh.
Steve Waugh v South Africa, Headingley 1999
Whether Waugh actually told Herschelle Gibbs, "You've just dropped the World Cup" is a moot point. That he thought it is in no doubt whatsoever.


Steve Waugh: he picked up the World Cup that Herschelle Gibbs had dropped © Getty Images
Waugh was as revolted by weakness as he was inspired by the baggy green, and when the two came together in Gibbs's infamous moment of hubris, it felt chillingly inevitable that Waugh would take full advantage. Australia needed to beat a hard-boiled South Africa to qualify for the semi-finals and meet the same opponents, but they were in serious trouble at 48 for 3 chasing 272 on a piquant Headingley track. Then Waugh stepped into the last-chance saloon and fixed all with his will-breaking gunslinger's glare. With Australia's backs not so much against the wall as moulded into it, this was an innings Waugh was born to play. He and Ricky Ponting, with a calculated assault on South Africa's change bowlers, had taken the total to 152 for 3 in the 31st when Gibbs, prematurely celebrating a catch at midwicket, dropped Waugh on 56. It felt like a turning point, and Waugh blazed to 120 from 110 balls, only his second century in 266 one-day internationals. It was one thing to process that Gibbs had made a monumental cock-up, entirely another to make sure he was fully punished for it. Actions, Waugh proved, speak a whole lot louder than thoughts.
Shane Warne v South Africa, Edgbaston 1999
In the greatest one-day game of all, it was apt that all the champions on both sides produced outstanding performances. And that Shane Warne, the greatest of them all, reached higher than anyone. When South Africa, chasing 214, roared to 48 for 0, the lights were going out on Australia's campaign. But that had reckoned without the great electrical conductor that was Warne. He bowled Herschelle Gibbs with one of the best deliveries of his career, which hit off after pitching well outside leg, and then hurried another big-spinning delivery through Gary Kirsten's risible, panicky slog-sweep. Never had he been more talismanic. After both wickets Warne repeatedly screamed, "Come on!", every exhortation sending belief crackling through his team-mates. For South Africa, there was merely a sign which screamed, "Danger: High Voltage!" Even the umpires got caught up in it all: Hansie Cronje was given out caught off the boot, and Warne had figures of 2.3-1-3-3. He didn't go for a boundary until his final over, the 45th, when Shaun Pollock nailed him for six and four to turn the tide South Africa's way. Typically, Warne had the final word, keeping his cool to dismiss Jacques Kallis and finish with figures of 10-4-29-4. Australia famously went through after the game was tied in the final over; and while not even Warne could script a role in the decisive run-out, without him the game would have been up long before.
Andrew Symonds v Pakistan, Johannesburg 2003
In the aftermath of spectacular achievement, sportsmen are fond of saying that they were not going to "die wondering". Symonds is the embodiment of the phrase. After a modest, stop-start four-year career (54 ODIs, two fifties, average 23.81), he was only picked for Australia's World Cup squad at the behest of his captain. Ricky Ponting, rather like someone whose best friend is witty in his company and monosyllabic in that of others, could see his man's potential, but nobody else did. They soon would. Symonds came to the crease with Australia 86 for 4 in their opening game against Pakistan, and in mild disarray after the announcement earlier in the day that Shane Warne had failed a drug test. They were being roughed up by Pakistan's pace bowlers on a bouncy pitch, but then Symonds came in and started swinging. One more failure under pressure could have been his last, but to his own self Symonds was true, playing his natural game to beast 143 from 125 balls, with 18 fours and two sixes - and this in a match where only one other batsman passed 33.


Stephen Fleming. Unstoppable on his day © Reuters
From looking at a total of around 200, Australia romped to 310 for 8, and won every match after, gloriously retaining their title. And Symonds, who averaged 163 in the tournament, has been a fixture in their one-day side ever since.
Stephen Fleming v S Africa, Johannesburg 2003
As Fleming stepped into the bullring at Johannesburg, he also stepped into the zone: it is hard to imagine any sportsman so visibly at the peak of his powers, and Fleming's innings carried an otherworldly serenity. It needed to. In a mustn't-lose contest, New Zealand had been set an improbable 307 to win after a barnstorming 143 from Herschelle Gibbs, but immediately Fleming began to cut, pull and drive South Africa to distraction. This was cricket as mathematical equation: good ball = defence; bad ball = four. Fleming hit 21 of them in all in a sumptuous unbeaten 134, and long before rain and Duckworth and Lewis intervened, New Zealand were cruising to a decisive victory.
England's meeting with Australia had a whiff of the off-kilter from the start. Australia were already through, whereas England knew that, because of other results, they could win and go out - or lose and go through. It made for a messy, unfocussed affair... except where Bevan was concerned. As ever, he secreted purpose, but with Australia 135 for 8, needing 70 from 12 overs on a surface so turgid that scoring three an over was a challenge, it seemed beyond even him. The walls were closing in, but somehow the great escapologist plotted a way out. He had vital help from the hired muscle of Bichel, who strong-armed an unbeaten 34 to add to a staggering return of 7 for 20, but it was the certainty of Bevan that numbed England into submission - and, as it transpired, put them out of the World Cup.
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Rob Smyth is a writer for the Guardian in London