Ben Stokes inspires the sweetest of victories to inject new life into England

It’s when they fall to the floor, not when they jump. When they scream but there is no sound. When Ben Stokes is not the centurion or the one with a five-wicket haul but is player of the match as England take Newlands for the first time since 1957. Bodies all over the place, voices lost and a series squared one apiece.

Test match wins do not come more satisfying or harder fought, even if the margin of 189 runs seems steep. The difference, really, was 50 balls. That's how close South Africa came to stave off defeat. How few opportunites England had left to turn hours and days of toil into something worthwhile.

They battled tooth and nail to prise a first-innings advantage, courtesy of James Anderson’s five for 40. Then ground things out with Dom Sibley’s help, a maiden century of 133 not out from 311 balls to set 438 to win and 146 overs to bat. By Tuesday afternoon, as the red lobsters in the stands found their voice through generation-old songs, forged more from defeat than glory, the runs had lost their appeal. And, eventually, thanks to Stokes, South Africa all its batsmen.

His late spell of 4.3 overs saw him take the final three wickets - his only success in 33 overs of body-punishing work - to nab the winning moment after stealing the limelight on day four with a stunning 72 from 47 balls.

At this point it’s almost just greedy: three spoils of glory inside nine months. He was reluctant to take the credit alone, forcing Sibley to come up and accept the individual award with him, recognising his star turn was only possible on the shoulders of others. Most encouragingly, though, was the presence of more shoulders beyond his. This is only one win - the first of Chris Silverwood’s tenure at the fourth attempt - but a lot of it, including Joe Root’s captaincy, felt like sustainable, legacy-building improvements.

Still, this was a result it felt like would never come in the moments after tea.

For when Anderson pulled up after delivering the final ball of the first over of the final stanza, only his second with the new ball, Root knew the wits of a man with 584 Test wickets to his name was lost to him. That 584th victim had come in the morning session, Keshav Maharaj trapped LBW three overs into the day. South Africa reduced to 129 for three, runs remaining losing importance (309, for the record) but the seven wickets to get seemed plausible with 83 overs left and the promise of a pitch that could deteriorate. Oh, and the second new ball.

But this, this weary over with England needing five more wickets after 59 overs of toil and a middle period which earned them just one, was only Anderson’s second with that new ball. He was late out after lunch, popping a couple of painkillers as he made his way down the steps. A side strain was the whisper that came through. And on this evidence, it looked bad.

He got given one moreover, a maiden which was as easily ignored as defended. Root pulled the pin, turning to Stuart Broad for the next go at the Wynberg End. As is the way with anything against Anderson, his age - 37, you’d have heard - leads to talk of physical degeneration, even after a 27th five-wicket haul in the first innings. Not for the first time in the last six months, his body was letting him down. Thankfully, though, his hands were fine.

Even when Pieter Malan’s incredible feat of endurance came to an end on 288 balls, as Sam Curran nipped one across him with good bounce to, finally, take an edge for the fifth wicket, that movement felt like an exception. Nothing summed that up more than Curran’s field later on of leg slip, short leg, catching midwicket, catching mid-on, regulation mid-on, catching mid-off, catching cover point, slip and with the keeper up to the stumps. More punts than Oxbridge.

Quinton de Kock used the lack of men behind of square to guide a couple of fours down to third man. Off Curran’s next over, de Kock’s seventh boundary took him to a 19th half-century. A man who can only bat time with the promise of runs had his share of the good stuff to satiate him, like a pet who only takes his medicine inside his favourite treats. Seemingly satisfied, England bemused on.

Alas, the 27-year-old wasn’t, and a player who has not got much time for books seems to be unable to read a situation either - certainly against a red ball. An inexplicable long hop from Joe Denly was inexplicably slapped to Zak Crawley at midwicket. The most clubby of dismissals. Perhaps worse than his captain, Faf du Plessis, sweeping Dom Bess to a square leg he hadn’t notice come in from the boundary moments earlier. But arguably the clubbiest bit of play came from England and, ultimately, won them the match.

Because if you’ve ever played club cricket, you know the best place to hide the oldest and lamest in your team is leg slip. A position with no need to walk in to or from, no expectation to over-exert and no sense of loss if a catch comes too sharply. It may as well be a reclining armchair.

So as Anderson sat there, peeved with his lot, and Stuart Broad came in to bowl, 130 negligible deliveries behind him in the innings for not a sliver, four wickets needed but energy levels waning on the field and in the crowd. There was no surprise when his 131st drifted onto leg stump and even less when Rassie van der Dussen, as he was six minutes away from a double century of minutes at the crease, met it with the middle of his bat.

Yet the predictability of it all was countered by Anderson’s presence in the waiting room, snaffling a catch that removed the last recognised batsman and gave England full eyes at a tail that still needed lopping off. As the match moved into its final hour, there were three more to get with a bowler down and patience wearing thin.

The blind panic of the middle session had seen many attempts to make use of what rough there was outside off and leg stumps. For a moment, England were getting ahead of themselves, burning overs they did not need to burn hoping to rush batsmen focused on batting time. That, somehow, fast-forwarding the game would bring them what they wanted. A childlike enthusiasm to rush time for rewards, like going to sleep early on Christmas Eve.

But when you’ve got Stokes, the only time you need is his. And when he stormed in from a seemingly docile Wynberg End, a combination of reverse swing, extra clicks and sheer belief saw deliveries tail in late, leap off a length and electrify a cordon full of kids into so much more in the space of 14 balls.

When all-rounder Dwayne Pretorious stood tall to play a ball that had previously thudded into the middle of bats, his eyes could not focus on the 90mph rocket taking a chunk of his outside edge and pulling Root into a low catch. When Anrich Nortje, nightwatchman in the previous Test, could barely get into a defensive shot of note and stung one palm of a tumbling Zak Crawley and nestled into the other. And when Vernon Philander, fired up by a set-to with Jos Buttler, puffed his chest out, Stokes did not just reopen the crack outside off stump but sent it even further down to allow the Devil to return it with interest, tearing the top glove and giving Ollie Pope the match-winning catch at gully.

Stokes roared and broke his voice, they bundled onto Crawley and they ran every which way, to Stokes, to Pope, to whoever was nearest. Thrilled it was all over, in disbelief at how it came to be and ecstatic it was not for nothing.

England are all square courtesy of the kind of Test win that gives its victors a high that no drug can match. There are two games to play, a Basil D'Oliveira trophy still up for grabs and two teams who have both tasted success. But England’s here was much sweeter and could prove more nourishing for the series.