In a match all over which Shakib Al Hasan emblazoned his name, it's the tender, half-smiling shoulder pat to Angelo Mathews that was the most Shakib of all Shakib moments.
If, by sight, you could size up Mathews' emotions right around then, you'd have guessed he's about 20% bemused, 50% worried, 30% frustrated, 100% cannot-believe-this-garbage. He's pointing at the crease, pointing to his helmet strap, pleading with one umpire, pleading with the other umpire, and now explaining to Shakib.
Mathews is famously low on emotion. This is perhaps the attribute that allowed the younger version of himself to shimmer in the tense match situations in which others shrank.
Shakib's emotions tend to run in the other direction usually, as umpires who have copped his abuse, or board members who have had to deal with the fallout of disciplinary breaches may testify. But right here, this moment, which is filling fast beyond capacity, bursting at the seams, about to explode all over this World Cup, Shakib is hands-behind-back, stone-faced, owning it.
Umpire Marais Erasmus had about a minute before he came to Shakib and asked him if he was really sure he wanted to uphold his appeal. Shakib's nod was so curt it was basically dismissive.
"Two sugars in your tea, sir?"
"Obviously. How else would I have it?"
So now Mathews is approaching Shakib to question if wow, man, is this really happening, and this is when Shakib takes unhurried steps towards Mathews, utters a single sentence, reaches out with his left arm, offers a brief, consoling touch, and then promptly checks the hell out of the conversation.
Uhh… what? But none of this would be happening if not for Shakib. It is he who put the whole chain of events into motion. He who appealed for a timed out dismissal, who refused repeatedly to withdraw that appeal even after it became clear that Mathews' helmet chinstrap breaking caused the delay, and it is he who is now telling Mathews to his face that these are just the breaks. A killer whale, part way through devouring a seal, going: "Oh that sucks dude, I really feel for you. Wish something could be done."
He could still withdraw the appeal and prevent cricket's social media from melting. About a minute later, when an incensed Mathews was stomping off the pitch, about to throw the offending helmet over the boundary, Shakib could still have called Mathews back.
But just as the Shakib of the Mathews shoulder touch has left the Shakib of the timed out appeal way in the rear-view, in an unconnected intellectual space - a parallel dimension basically - the Shakib of the shoulder touch has already been forgotten by the Shakib who needs to bowl the next ball to a new batter. Shakib does what comes naturally, speaks what he feels is fitting, behaves in ways that make sense to him, and expects the remainder of the universe to fall in line. Is it his fault if the universe often obliges?
Remember when he was at loggerheads with Chandika Hathurusinghe, years ago? Now he's captaining the team in a World Cup while Hathurusinghe is coach. Remember when he was suspended from cricket for a year in October 2019, for failing to report corrupt approaches? A pandemic overran the planet about four months later, and basically suspended cricket. Remember when he may or may not have shattered a glass door in a Colombo dressing room in a fit of furious ecstasy? A match referee may or may not have quickly ruled the CCTV angles were not good enough to officially censure. Remember when he left his team mid-way through a World Cup to work with his mentor for two days in Dhaka? He's averaged more than 43 with the bat since he returned.
On Monday, after Shakib had set the cricket world aflame and become the first player in the history of the international game to put in motion a timed out dismissal, prompting searing condemnations online, sparking impassioned tirades about rules and the soul of sport, and sending an often unflappable Mathews into such a lather that he would roar down from what he felt was a towering moral height at the press conference later in the evening, there Shakib was sensibly winning his team the match.
On 7, Shakib even hit Mathews into the hands of Charith Asalanka - the other batter who had been at the crease for the timed out incident - at short cover. If this had been caught, not only might the match have tiptoed in Sri Lanka's direction, still-fuming cricket fans would have tasted what for them would have been sweet cosmic retribution.
Instead, Asalanka drops it, Shakib flays Sri Lanka for 82 off 65, puts on 159 with Najmul Hossain Shanto, picks up the player of the match trophy in a game in which he's ignited this World Cup's biggest controversy, and probably goes back to his hotel and sleeps like a baby while he is viciously panned or ferociously defended in all manner of spaces across the planet.
He'll wake up on Tuesday, and perhaps be mostly unconcerned about the fire that still rages in many of the rest of us. His life will go on unburdened by the thought that on some days, it feels for the rest of us as if this is Shakib's world, and we are merely outraging in it.