A day's Test cricket yesterday, in two very different parts of the world, which was, in many ways, a throwback to earlier times. On the one hand you had a previously unconsidered Kiwi seamer (no offence, Mr.O'Brien) making life difficult for England (with obvious assistance from his captain) after England's own insipid efforts in the field had matched the slackness of the Kiwis' running. England were also pasted all over the field by a young batsman of unmistakeable promise and class; it's hard to believe now that only a few months ago good New Zealand judges were wondering whether Ross Taylor was going to be any more than a one-day player.

On the other, in Kingston, you had everything going off: Shiv Chanderpaul gets knocked unconscious by a Brett Lee bouncer but gets up to record yet another century and then watches from the field as Edwards and Powell leave Australia rocking at a close score of 17 for 4.

So, just like old times. England struggling, West Indies fast bowlers creating mayhem and reverse swing the king. For all the brilliance of Taylor and Chanderpaul's heroics (how many batsmen have ever sold their wicket more dearly?), the highlight of the day for me was the delivery from Brett Lee which shattered Daren Powell's stumps as the West Indian innings declined.

At about 90 miles an hour it started to reverse in the last third of its flight before torpedoing Powell's middle and leg stumps. Far better players than Powell would have stood no chance at all, and for an instant I felt as though I was right back in the 1990s, with Waqar Younis persecuting a range of helpless England batsmen (Graeme Hick at Lord's, 1996, came to mind immediately).

Bloody magnificent.

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