When the towering frame of Steven Finn took the crease at the end of Englands second innings in Dhaka, I started dreaming. England, nine wickets down, needed 112 to win, or 111 to avoid defeat, which is probably a better way of phrasing the chase from this unlikely position. I hoped this could be one of the last-stand classics. I envisioned Finn blocking and nudging his way to a valiant 30-odd, while Chris Woakes, no amateur with a willow cleft, battled his way to the total. I pictured the two warriors slaked in sweat, raising their swords to the joyous Three Lions battalion celebrating on the balcony.You might well guess, by how carried away Im getting with the language, the military metaphors and the redundant hope, that I love a last-wicket stand. Tension, the scrapping underdog, this is cricket at its most riveting.And why shouldnt I have hoped in Dhaka? The record tenth-wicket Test partnership is a monstrous 198 from when Jimmy Anderson baffled the bowlers, the fans, and certainly himself - his previous highest score was 49 - by notching up 81 against India at Trent Bridge in 2014. He was so surprised by his fifty, he was unsure how to celebrate. I didnt really know what that meant, so I just did the round with the bat. Ive seen people point at the dressing room, so I did that as well.It wasnt the first time wed watched Anderson epically hang on at the end. Only a few weeks earlier, against Sri Lanka at Headingley hed desperately clung to his wicket for 20 overs, until the penultimate ball. Such was the hurt of losing the game, he broke down in tears.We feel deeply for these No. 11 nearly heroes, no matter how partisan the player, fan or hack. Think of Andrew Flintoff photographed kneeling to Brett Lee in 2005, an image that was replicated when Joe Root consoled Sabbir Rahman in Chittagong two weeks ago. And who didnt want 19-year-old Ashton Agar, striking the ball with unfettered joy, to hit two more runs and make a hundred on his Test debut in 2013?My own appreciation of these last-stand battles, particularly digging a trench and staying put no matter what artillery the opposition launches, stems from my teenage introduction to mens league cricket. Aged 14, I was sneaking into my club 2nd XI on fielding ability alone. Being able to throw, catch, run and dive were rare skills in an ageing side. Although, in reality, it was more likely my name was on the sheet because I was too young to complain about batting 11.Not that this batting position was ever superfluous. Not on North Leicestershire minefields, where the most innocuous delivery could detonate the stumps. Back in the 1980s the league points system was set up in such a way that a losing draw was infinitely preferable to defeat, and thus giving away a precious bonus to the opposition. This meant my propping up of the tail end became more important than the runs scratched from the established batsmen. After the men went in and threw away their wickets, I was expected to save the day by blocking out the remaining overs.I still recall a wet and windy afternoon on an exposed hillside. My fanciful memory is that we were actually playing on a farm somewhere, with cowpats in the outfield, but this is probably my imagination. I had a dozen or so overs to keep my wicket and save the game. Both their quicks got lift and bounce off a skiddy track. I either dropped my hands and left, or played that forward defensive that my coach, former pro Peter Booth, proud Yorkshireman and stickler for correct technique, drilled into us every net session. Despite being young and green, surrounded by men whose lives apparently meant no more than winning a game of cricket on a rain-swept Saturday, I resisted. And the more I resisted the more viscous became the sledging. Men sledging a boy, testing his nerve by questioning whether hed reached puberty, had he ever kissed a girl, if he even liked girls. When this had no effect, the mumbled threats started, the swear words and promises of physical violence.Still, the bails remained in place, and I strode off that pitch and marched into manhood. Hearty bear paws patted my back in the pavilion, and the men whod never even spoken to me before were now buying pints of shandy for me at the bar. I was a Not Out hero. These dashing feats of non-scoring still enthral my social cricket. Regular No. 11 for the Authors CC is historian Tom Holland, a bowler who usually takes more wickets in a game than he scores runs. A few years ago he hit a six. His first. A remarkable inside-out scythe over extra cover. He still tweets the photo of it once a week.Yet his most heroic innings, or at least the knock that I remember, was a tenth-wicket stand we shared against the Royal Household at Windsor. Forget any visions you might have of a gentle opposition made up of effeminate butlers and dainty footmen. Strapping Aussie imports and veteran club players people a team that loves nothing more than to drub the Authors. Not this Saturday. We blocked and shouldered arms, nudged and frustrated. We got down to the last six balls, and Id failed to get Tom off strike. No fear. Tom defended, left, and even flicked one off middle stump, and we walked, no we strode, back to a raucous welcome celebrating that single, intact wicket.Oh, and the Woakes-Finn fairy tale in Dhaka? No. Not this time. You already know that. He was plumb lbw for a duck. That happy ending belonged to Bangladesh. Authentic Kyle Hendricks Jersey . But when it comes to determining if Raymond will find a place on the Leafs roster when training camp concludes in a week, well, that decision will ultimately fall to the head coach. Authentic Albert Almora Jr Jersey . 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The first-over specialistHas Mitchell Starc been so dangerous with the new ball on this tour because Sri Lankas openers have been dreadful? Or have they looked dreadful because Starc has been so good? If it was the chicken-or-the-egg question, the answer would be an egg-and-chicken sandwich. In other words, a bit of both. Twice in the Test series, Starc struck in the first over of an innings and he has now done so twice in the ODIs as well, first in the opening match in Colombo and now in Dambulla. This time his pace and good length did for Danushka Gunathilaka, who played on. It continued Sri Lankas wretched record of opening partnerships in these Tests and ODIs against Australia - their highest so far is 12, set in the previous ODI.The undead ballThere was a bit of wind around in Dambulla and in the third over of the day it blew one of the bails off at the strikers end while Dilshan was ready to face Starc. Nobody seemed to be bothered by it, though - certainly not Dilshan, who flicked a boundary through square leg. However, under Law 23 it should have been called a dead ball. The Law states that either umpire shall call and signal dead ball when: one or both bails fall from the strikers wicket before the striker has had the opportunity of playing the ball.The missed reeviewAaron Finch loomed as a danger man in the chase and had struck three fours and a six on his way to 30 off 29 balls when he was given out lbw off the bowling of Amila Aponso.dddddddddddd Aleem Dar raised the finger and Finch walked down for a chat to his partner Shaun Marsh. However, Marsh had been backing up to the side of the pitch and was hardly in an ideal position to provide advice. The upshot was that Finch did not ask for a review. Had he done so he would have been reprieved: replays showed the ball was going on with the arm to miss leg stump.The missed stumpingKusal Pereras lightning hands effected a couple of brilliant stumpings during the Test series, but this time perhaps he was trying to be just a little too quick. With Australia still needing 49 runs with six wickets in hand, Sri Lanka were desperate for a breakthrough when Matthew Wade lunged and missed a delivery from Seekkuge Prasanna. Perera gloved the ball and went to whip the bails off - but missed. Had he done so, Wade would have been out, but by the time Pereras second attempt had knocked the bails off, Wade had the tiniest fraction of boot behind the line and was safe. ' ' '