On one of the open days at the Australian Open last year, a group of teenage boys had a few hits on the tennis court as players moved in and out. Novak Djokovic paused to have a glance at one of the boys who'd been crushing his serves for the previous few minutes. He was in the boy's eyeline and the boy, seizing up, dunked the next three serves into the net. Djokovic smiled wryly and moved along.
Without the pressure of an all-time great watching him, the boy's next serve caught the centre line and flew past his opponent; Djokovic himself might have struggled to return it. But as the camera zoomed in on the youngster's face, it revealed an expression of barely-contained fury; it was almost worse not to have the ability than to miss out when it really mattered.
A mile away from Melbourne Park, Salman Ali Agha had just dived to his right to pluck one inches off the ground at first slip. Australia had lost their fifth wicket; Mitchell Marsh falling four short of a Boxing Day Test hundred. Mir Hamza, enjoying the best innings of his brief international career, had picked up a third and Pakistan had broken a partnership.
Agha may never take a better catch but he couldn't bring himself to enjoy the moment. He picked himself up and tossed the ball insouciantly away. The catch felt less like something to celebrate, and more a taunt to Pakistan's long-suffering fans. They could do that, but two hours ago, when history beckoned and fate watched, they hadn't.
It was Abdullah Shafique who'd been at first slip, as he has been all series. Not because he's a renowned slip fielder or because he's shown exceptional promise in the cordon. He'd already dropped three crucial catches in that position this series, one in the fourth over of the Test, when Warner nicked one off to him as catching practice before he'd got himself in.
But anyway, despite the self-destruction, the drop, the 52 extras, and the batting collapse, Pakistan were all over Australia. Even the weather had played ball, with rain that hadn't been forecast and cloud cover that wasn't predicted the accoutrements to a cold December day that wouldn't have been out of place in the other hemisphere.
And for a nation whose cricket relationship with Australia has an unhealthy inferiority complex, Pakistan were looking their impregnable hosts in the eye, intent on staring them down. It was evident in an absorbing contest during Aamer Jamal's first over to Mitchell Marsh, the series' highest wicket-taker and the highest run-scorer pitted against each other. Pakistan had a deep-backward point, three slips and a gully, and Marsh kept slashing Jamal in that region, not afraid to cut through the air despite the number of catching fielders. Three of the first four balls went for four but Jamal beat the edge with at least two and, when he came back for his second over, persisted with the off stump line. Marsh slashed again, and it was exactly what Pakistan wanted. This one got the edge, and it looped up to Shafique at first slip, redemption not so much hurtling towards him as gently easing into his lap.
"Catches and drops are part of the game," Shafique had said yesterday, referring to the spill that reprieved Warner. He'd dropped a couple and this, beyond all doubt surely, was the other part. It was at a nice height, but as Mark Waugh said on commentary, his hands went at it "like a crocodile jaw trying to catch a ball". Unlike crocodile jaws, though, Shafique's hands don't quite possess the same lethal grip, and somehow, the ball dribbled back out.
Perhaps you could quibble with Shafique being there in the first place, but in Australia, Pakistan's journey is like one of those time travel films where every new permutation eventually leads down the same dispiriting road. There was a sign the wheels might be coming off the very next ball, when a straight drive sneaked through Shan Masood at mid-off for a boundary to bring up Australia's 50.
Three overs later, Hasan Ali brought one in as Marsh shouldered arms, the trajectory of the inswinger looking like it would kiss off stump. The umpire, didn't think so, and while Hawkeye tracked it the same way, not enough of it was estimated to be hitting to overturn the umpire's call. Marsh survived once more; the fortress Pakistan were looking to batter down almost mocking them as it kept them out.
The air was finally let out of the MCG pressure cooker, and now Australia began to let off steam. They scored at nearly five an over for the rest of the session, 53 counterattacking runs that stretched the lead. Pakistan could only helplessly watch, with the desperation of a stranded sailor as yet another rescue boat powered away. The lead stood at 241, and Marsh said Australia would feel they're in the game even if they didn't add another run to the overnight score - and history backs him; not since 1953 has a visiting side run down a higher target to win a match at the MCG.
So why, indeed, would Agha have any reason to celebrate when Marsh and Steve Smith had added a further 123 runs to Australia's total before Hamza finally drew another edge to the same area? That the catch was sensational will ultimately be mere detail if, as seems increasingly likely, Australia add yet another chapter of heartbreak to an already rich oeuvre.
Off the final ball of the day, Shaheen Afridi banged in one to Smith, who fended at it after getting into a tangle. It flew up tamely to gully where, once more, Agha stood to take perhaps the only chance simpler than the two Shafique had put down. It felt like yet another taunt, a fresh injection of faux-hope, of things coming together just when it was too late to matter.
Agha let it drop into his hands with almost casual indifference, and cast the ball aside once more. History was no longer beckoning, and fate no longer watching.