Draw and order Why Stokes must make peace with the grey in cricket's black and white world

"A tie is like kissing your sister," Edward J Erdelatz said to the New York Times in 1954.

- James Wallace

Erdelatz was the United States Navy's head football coach and his side had just drawn 0-0 against Duke University. "No one asked the mild spoken navy coach to explain," the report adds. Well, quite. But sister or not, everyone knew what he meant.

Erdelatz's unique take on the merits or otherwise of not winning are ingrained in American sports where a Lombardian win-at-all-costs mentality prevails. Try explaining Test cricket to an American sports fan, they say, with a wry chuckle - the fact that two teams can battle it out for five full days and in the end, there is not necessarily a winner. Good luck, they smirk. Adelaide 1961? You may as well be describing the plot of Memento to a toddler. Old Trafford 2005? More chance of a cider-addled bee getting to grips with quantum theory. They do not get it, be gone with your quaint English ways, five days and no winner. That's crazy, man.

Yet draws are intrinsic to Test cricket, they are written in its DNA - a double helix in the shape of a deadlock. Draws speak to its beguiling and maddening qualities, a testament to the game's downright peculiarity.

That a side can battle back from a point of seemingly no return to pull off the heist of shared spoils, drop anchor, defy logic, battle against their opponents' desire, their own self-belief, against conditions under their feet and above their heads, against time itself. This makes the game what it is, why it is called what it is called. Even when you are on top, it is still really hard to finish a side off and win a Test match.