On Tuesday, the eve of James Anderson's farewell Test match, he received a present from Adidas - a box-fresh pair of commemorative bowling boots for this one-off Test.
Stitched onto the straps were two dates: "22.05.03" on the left, "10.07.24" on the right, the starting days of his first and last Test. Billion-dollar corporations can do sentimentality too, you know.
"I didn't ask for them," Anderson said, with one last rally against enforced pomp. "I thought I'd better wear them to keep the sponsors happy. It wasn't my idea."
Cricket lends itself to this kind of qualitative imprinting, and Anderson's era-spanning career only encourages that. His 704 career wickets may as well be carved into stone, likely to stand forever as the third most in Test cricket. His name is already etched into the honours board seven times at Lord's, but the MCC also went to the trouble of printing scorecards of all 29 of his appearances at this ground. They even handed him a decanter engraved with the details of this last outing.
Everything that can be counted can be printed, visualised, chucked in a graphic and embroidered. Even refunded, as day three fell 2.5 overs shy of the 15-over cut-off. And yet, as a statistical titan bowed out of a numbers-obsessed pursuit, the game's true quality shone through in his final moments.
Cricket, at its heart, is a shared love. Passed on, cultivated, and paid forward. For the last 21 years, Anderson has been a handy vessel for this age-old exchange.
Alec Stewart (who turned 61 in April) messaged Anderson's 12th and final international wicketkeeper, Jamie Smith (24 today), to remind him that he was the first back in 2002. Chris Woakes, now the senior leader of the pace attack, was taught the wobble seam delivery by Anderson in 2014, who had perfected it three years earlier.
Gus Atkinson, who had plucked up the courage to ask Anderson for a selfie in the West Indies in 2007, now knows the importance of the team victory over personal glory. His attempt to apologise for not leaving Anderson the final wicket was greeted with a well-meaning "f*** off".
Even the walk off the field was an emotionally binding moment for all involved. "There was an overwhelming feeling out there, that this was the last time we'd get to walk off the field with Jimmy," Ben Stokes said. "And also the last time the crowd would get to see Jimmy leave the field."
At 2pm, MCC invited that crowd onto the Lord's outfield. Half congregated under the England balcony at the pavilion and were duly rewarded by the sight of Anderson draining a pint of Guinness. The rest had broken out into their own mini games of cricket.
Men and women, boys and girls. Generations of friends, family and strangers crowding the bat or merely observing, as bowler after bowler ran in - the majority right arm seam - to contend with the various angles of the Lord's slope. Even Anderson, for so long a mainstay at the Pavilion End, finished off with his final six overs from the Nursery End.
For many, the game comes from love; a generational exchange, passed down like wisdom and encouraged like decency. A pastime that serves many purposes. Grease for the wheels of conversation. A conduit for joy. A substance for relief. The fabric of relationships. The building blocks of memories.
Anderson's transcendence means he has, by proxy, been a facilitator for this. Not just for those here these last three days and who were due here for the final two, but others the world over. Especially his final XI, with a captain who was still a pre-teen having just moved over from New Zealand, and a spinner six months from being born when he first stepped out at Lord's in England whites.
Truth be told, the Test itself as a send-off was a little flat; enforced, subdued, no atmosphere to speak of for the first two days, and, ultimately, too brief. Anderson even dropped a simple return catch that would have ended it on his terms. Goodbyes are rarely perfect, and this was far from it.
What was heartening though, was the occasion gave Anderson an insight into how he made people feel. As much through enduring as excelling.
"I'm certainly getting more of a feeling with that this week," Anderson said when asked if he can appreciate what he has meant to others. "I think that's probably what makes me most happy about having a long career.
"And if people ask you how would you like to be remembered? I'd love to think that someone took up the art of bowling because they've watched me bowl, or whether it's their parents that have forced them into it because they've seen me bowl.
"I've been amazed at like how many kids that were here, even the walk into the ground. The kids here and the older folk as well. I think that's really special. And that's probably our job as cricketers as well.
"You're not just a cricketer trying to win games of cricket, you're trying to be a role model as well. When I was growing up, I was looking up to players to try and imitate them or copy them, be like them. And I love the thought that kids are still doing that because of me."
Well Jimmy, that responsibility is no longer yours. You've more than done your share.
Around four hours after that last walk off, Anderson was back out bowling at the Pavilion End, this time to his daughters and other kids associated with the England dressing room. He even made sure to have a bat, having missed out on Thursday. Given this was put upon him, it was hard not to square that this was a man at peace.
His stewardship will now be made official - for the summer at least - as he advises those who will take the team (and thus, the game) forward. But if there was anything to wish upon Anderson from this day on, it is that he should rest knowing that between the dates of 22.05.03 to 10.07.24 he did more than produce unimpeachable numbers.
Twenty-one years, 188 caps, 40,037 deliveries, 704 wickets and countless enriched.