There isn’t much that Sourav Ganguly hasn’t done on a cricket field, but what he did around 2:20pm today was quite novel. Here was a game that, barring a miracle of biblical proportions, could not be won. Here was India, in the opening Test of a crucial series, being butchered silly. Here was 668 runs conceded, shoulders drooping in every direction, morale trampled upon, and only a declaration to look forward to. And what does he do?

Misjudge a catch as Rana Naved-ul-Hasan lofted one over his head at mid-off. Fair enough. But wait, what does he do now? Keeps his eyes on the ball, back-peddle, extend his right hand upwards, realise it may be too late, propel himself backward and let the instincts take over. Sometime over the course of the next second, he must have felt the ball in his hand, and sometime during the next few milli-seconds he must have realised it hadn’t popped out.

And sometime soon, just for a few moments, he might have forgotten all that had gone before and all that is likely to happen later. He leaped, he pumped his fist, and he stood in his spot and celebrated as his team-mates mobbed him. It was a little more than magical. He had pulled the rabbit out of the hat, but importantly had done it without he himself knowing he would.