These days when the great Adil Rashid takes the field for England, the experience provokes a swirl of emotions among the faithful.
Pride, that this shy Muslim boy from Bradford, whose father built his boys a makeshift net in the basement of the family home, should have risen so high.
Awe, at the sheer audacity of it all – watching him at work, in this era of a thousand sweep shots and gym bunnies lining up to run at him, is to witness a form of highwire sporting brinkmanship.
There is, too, the deep artistry of it all, all those lush shapes and patterns, the arcing curve of his run-up, th...
