The ball cracks off AB de Villiers’ bat. There is no real hint of violence; just a marriage of beauty and brutality.
De Villiers’ every shot, breathtakingly crisp and yet flying off his bat with alacrity, feels like a riposte to any who still deride T20 as slogging. The 40,000 at the ground intoxicated by his show are too mesmerised to think of such questions.
De Villiers’ every shot, breathtakingly crisp and yet flying off his bat with alacrity, feels like a riposte to any who still deride T20 as slogging. The 40,000 at the ground intoxicated by his show are too mesmerised to think of such questions.
