Steady now, absolutely still. His eyes glance about before settling on a man charging at him. The man stops abruptly and moves his arm all funny, as if throwing a round-house wallop from ten meters away. The steady man raises his arm as his eyes leave the charger. There is no time. Instinct takes less time than thought, so he gives in to it. What does he do? He responds to the thrown punch by stepping back slightly and curling his body as his arms pull back like a trigger. And then the self-created tension uncoils at the speed of instinct. Arms rush forward while he twists his waist balances on the toes of one leg with the digits of the other barely kissing the ground. Then he waits and waits and waits. Steadily, absolutely still, before granting himself a single nod of approval.
Watching a Tendulkar six over midwicket was theatre.