| How often does it seem like a bowler takes two in two? Chances are you have been in the ground or watching on TV when there’s been an opportunity for two to become three? You may recognise the sweaty-palmed prayer of anticipation the chance of a hat-trick produces? That first date-rivalling frisson? The fleeting expectation that something of cricket’s ethereal intangibility is about to be harnessed? All of this adds to the hat-trick’s allure. Oh, the bowler has slammed it down the leg side. Shame. Next time, perhaps. Forty-nine hat-tricks in Test history then, but it feels like there’s a chance of one in every other series. The data is tricky to dig into. Pre-2000 ball-by-ball data isn’t complete enough to really excavate the mysterious truth about Test hat-tricks, but since the turn of the century there have been 756 occasions when a bowler has taken two wickets in two balls in men’s Test cricket. On 20 of these occasions they have been converted into three in three. So, 736 times the chance has gone begging. Who has spurned the most chances? Again, since 2000, Murali and Mitchell Starc have failed to convert 14 hat-trick opportunities, but can take comfort (ahem) in having been the final wicket in an opponent’s Test hat-trick (Mohammed Sami and Rangana Herath say thanks). Vernon Philander found himself on the precipice 13 times but never converted, James Anderson and Dale Steyn a dozen times each. Morne Morkel also skirted round the brim of a hat-trick on 12 occasions without succeeding, though he was the final scalp of Moeen Ali’s memorable hat-trick in 2017, the first in Test cricket at at the Oval. Anomalies themselves, hat-tricks seem to throw up these sorts of glitches in the cricketing universe. In 1994, Cork found himself on a hat-trick against Kent. “Guess who my third victim was? Carl Hooper.” Cork pinned Hooper lbw at Derby and didn’t miss his moment during the Old Trafford Test a year later. The ball reverse-swinging into Hooper’s front pad and the umpire, Cyril Mitchley, raising his finger before Cork had managed to turn around. He became the first Englishman to take a Test hat-trick in 38 years. “Mine is something I’m very proud of. The ball is on the wall at my mum’s house just as you come through the door, above a picture of me when I was 12. ‘The shrine’ my brothers call it.” He pauses and then adds: “Hat-tricks, you know, they are magical things.” Somewhere out there, yet to be captured, is Test cricket’s 50th hat-trick. When the chance comes, don’t miss it. No blue plaque and no ball games Hat-tricks have been something of an intriguing topic for me over the years. A couple of years ago, I went on a pilgrimage of sorts to track down the location of HH Stephenson’s original hat-trick. Yomping in the hills above Sheffield’s Park Hill estate using a combination of Google maps and some printed GPS coordinates, I managed to stumble across the location of the old Hyde Park ground. It had long since been converted into flats. Looking up from the map I thought there was a chance the precise location of HH’s exploits could have been marked in some way, a shrine of cricket caps and the odd rogue Stetson perhaps? An X or more appropriately a III to mark the spot maybe? There was an actual sign. It read: “No Ball Games.” Watch out, Hooper’s about Here comes another hat-trick quirk courtesy of Cork. “I have three hat-tricks in my professional career. One in Test cricket, one in four-day cricket and one in a T20 – Carl Hooper is involved in all three.” In a T20 match against Nottinghamshire at Old Trafford in 2004, Cork dismissed Kevin Pietersen and Mark Ealham in successive balls. He then had Samit Patel caught by his Lancashire teammate Hooper. “We became great friends,” Cork says. “He became a brilliant sounding board for me later in my career and I loved my time playing with him. A great man.” A beat, then: “I obviously enjoyed playing against him, too.” Quote of the week “There’s definitely a bit of intrigue with the shorter formats because I’ve not played any franchise stuff before. Watching the Hundred this year, seeing the ball swing around, it makes me feel like I could do a job there” – Jimmy Anderson settling into retirement nicely eyes a return to cricket as a short-form specialist. Memory lane Remarkably it’s 12 years since cricket appeared at the Olympic closing ceremony, its village-green iteration evoking a sense of community and playfulness that is sadly missing from too many lives. The T20 version of this thing of ours takes its place at the Games in 2028. | 