Sitting and watching the gentle pitter-patter today resulted in some interesting conversations in the press box. The first question on everyone's minds was when will that big black cloud arrive? Rain was expected, around half past one said the morning forecasts, but there was always a big 'If' that kept slipping into all discussions. The sun didn't peep out even once and it was just a matter of time before the heavens opened up. India might have been reminded of the fourth day of the Lahore Test, in January 2006, when a consistently murky day produced a Sehwag-inspired
batting fiesta.
"If it rains heavily, it may not be that good for India," said a few, "because the skies may clear up and play would surely get underway." We knew by now how good the drainage system at Lord's was; even a thunderstorm might not have mattered. Also, a bit of rain could leave the conditions extremely tough for batting, with the retained atmospheric moisture helping the swing bowlers.
It meant that India's best chance was to get a consistently cloudy day with the light dimming. It would also help if there was some mild drizzle around so that the umpires wouldn't think of re-starting play. At 3:30 in the afternoon all those eventualities combined in a perfect union. For close to four hours hardly anything changed: the drizzle occasionally got heavier, the light sometimes got a bit brighter but all the elements held on together, in a celestial balance, to allow no further play.
Nobody should think of staging Test matches in indoor stadiums. It takes away the umpteen possibilities that the weather offers. Rain and light offer possibilities, they can change the course of a game by creating completely new conditions. Watching two English spinners in tandem under leaden skies, with one wicket to get and a field of vultures surrounding the batsman, has a wonderful feel to it.