In the stands, the six casts a magical touch

AIthough it is reasonable to lament sixes and their ubiquity nowadays, it is easier to do so before a screen. The ennui of relentless big hitting, the compulsory excitement of commentators, the explosion of graphics, all of it recedes at the ground.

- Rahul Bhattacharya

Sixes in real life don't feel like a video game. Each one draws from the crowd a genuine thrill, even wonder.

The eyes that follow the path of the ball are agleam. People crane their necks to see where it lands, they throw their mouths open and their hands up in the air, applaud spectator catches and drops alike. For a fleeting moment the spectator fielding the ball becomes, literally, a part of the action. Nothing else like it exists in cricket.

My first experience at this World Cup was a match at the Kotla that featured 31 sixes. Between them South Africa and Sri Lanka scored 754 runs in a day, about five hundred of those in boundaries. To say that they smashed or blasted these would be untrue. Batters today can access parts of the ground that their predecessors did not know existed, they can get there in ways their forebears could not imagine, all the while retaining the ancient methods.

At the Kotla on Saturday, Quinton de Kock began at a positively traditional pace, stroking his lovely drives, staying watchful - until, on getting to fifty, he flipped on a switch to display a whole range of dance-downs, back-aways, inside-outs and pick-ups.

Rassie van der Dussen, built like a prizefighter, fleet-footed against spin, handsome on the loft, showcased a bouquet of paddles, reverses and laps, all the while maintaining a clinical assurance.

Markram goes conventional