Can This Boy Cook, Or What?

Cook finally out for 294

Cook by name, master chef by actions, Alastair Cook rolled on and on during the third day of another embarrassing day of Test cricket for India. In no hurry, as usual, he just kept adding to his score at his own pace until finally making a mistake with a loose slap to point.

There are times in Test cricket where accumulation works and today was such a day for England. It was a day for grinding India into the lush green grass and showing the world why they deserve that number one spot. The morning session was slow with England adding less than fifty but then two rain interruptions reduced play to only 18 overs and India bowled with more verve as Cook and Morgan had to reset themselves twice. The second interruption lasted until lunch. By the time bad light took the players from the field and the lights failed just after drinks in the second session, England were in a different mood with a run a minute off 19 overs. When play resumed, Cook and Morgan went on the rampage, adding 103 in fifty minutes and Morgan raising his second Test hundred in the process. His second fifty came from 109 balls and he took his chances to cement his place in the middle order adding 222 with Cook.

Morgan acknowledges his hundred

Bopara came and went on a day when caretakers were unimportant. Prior, unusually did the same. The Mo Mackie look alike has a great hunger to be at the table when the food is free. Mishra got them both on what was for him a better day. His turn and improved control led to curtailing England at stages. It was left to Bresnan to put far too many final nails in the Indian coffin as he blasted his way to another half century adding 97 in 22 overs with Cook, who was still present and still ploughing his field. Eventually, ironically, he was out six short of a triple century but with his highest Test score to date but not before another break fro light. For many, they would know this is a career best but not so Cook. He looks to have a lot more left in him.

England's 7 for 710 was their third highest and the biggest England total since Don Bradman broke his ankle Len Hutton got a few at The Oval in 1938.

The floodlights failed at Edgbaston

To mention the Indian bowling would largely be a waste of space. There performance was improved on yesterday but it was yesterday they needed to be improved. Yes they chased the bolted horse quite well, but they were never going to catch him after leaving the barn door open for the farm colt Cook. Mishra looked more like the bowler we have seen before and Raina bowled with more control but the pacemen were pedestrian. Even Kumar's big heart seemed broken.

India, inevitably, India lost a wicket before Gambhir and Dravid halted the pacemen at least until tomorrow but it was the massive and justified appeal by Swann for lbw which should concern them most. Gambhir would have lost leg or middle - probably both - but the umpire demured and Indian refusal to use the DRS for lbw's finally paid a dividend. With the ball turning and Swann well short of the notoriety he usually has by this stage of a series, its hard not to imagine he'll play a big part on the third day if the the three quicks let him have the ball..

Swann turned down against Gambhir

Sehwag was again the loser. Clearly not fit enough and well short of the metal toughness required for such a battle, he went first ball again, in the process collecting a king pair. This time he went to smash a drive through cover to a ball from Anderson that was short of what he needed and edged it to Strauss instead. He now has specs to go with his sore shoulder.

Not since the days of Bengal Tigers and subservient kaffers have India taken so much English stick and it ain't half hot mum.

A certain former Australia bowler, noted now for his fake tan, sacks of slack skin that fat once filled and generally out-celebed by Hugh Grant's old flame, was Twittering after play like old fools do who refuse to farewell their youth. He was describing the play as the worst day in the history of Test cricket.

Who cares?