First balls can be portentous events, containers of narratives that define entire matches and series. Ashes-opening Gabba Tests have often begun with balls like this: Michael Slater crashing Phil DeFreitas to the point boundary to set the tone for 1994-95, Steve Harmison whanging down a wide to slip 12 years later, Mitchell Starc bowling Rory Burns behind his back in 2021-22.
The first ball of Friday's World Cup match between Bangladesh and New Zealand won't go into folklore in quite the same way, but it became just as much of an encapsulation of the contest it kicked off.
Litton Das walked out of his crease to Trent Boult, and was greeted by an inswinging half-volley on his legs. A juicy, hittable ball, something of a gift from Boult to Litton on his 29th birthday, not dissimilar to the ball Jonny Bairstow hit for six in Ahmedabad to get the tournament off the mark. Litton timed his flick just as sweetly, but hit it a little finer, and Matt Henry took an excellent running catch on the boundary.
There wasn't much wrong Litton had done; it was a ball he - and most international batters - would have backed himself to hit for six. On another day, it may have travelled a little further, or at a slightly different angle, and eluded the fine-leg fielder.
This day, however, wasn't to be Litton's. It wasn't to be Bangladesh's either. They, like him, didn't do a whole lot wrong over the course of the match, but the chips just didn't fall their way.
Luck is a fraught subject in cricket, and tends to either be overplayed - as in the case of results being put down to one missed chance or umpiring error - or underplayed - as often happens when two batters play chancy shots early in their innings and one happens to survive for longer and make a big score; that batter is credited with having shown better judgement than the other, who happened to succumb to an early nick. The subject of luck also induces anxiety in some fans, who seem to believe that discussing the role of luck in some way disregards the skill of the players.
This is not the case. New Zealand were easily the better team on Friday, and their victory was every bit deserved. They read the conditions beautifully, and didn't let the history of the venue sway them into playing a second frontline spinner; the player of the match, Lockie Ferguson, was the fast bowler they may have dropped had they gone with two spinners. Their plans for this unusual Chepauk surface - something of a throwback to the venue's old days when it was considered to have the bounciest pitch in India - were spot-on, and their execution inch-perfect.
But Bangladesh read the conditions just as well. In the lead-up, this seemed like the perfect contest for Mahedi Hasan, their second offspinner. This was Chepauk, by reputation and recent history one of the most spin-friendly venues of this tournament, and New Zealand had four left-hand batters in their line-up. Bangladesh left Mahedi out, however, and played the extra batter in Mahmudullah.
It may have seemed a defensive move, but a defensive approach isn't necessarily a wrong one. The extra batting depth, as it happened, proved extremely handy: Bangladesh were four down by the 13th over, and seven down by the 38th, but Mahmudullah scored an unbeaten 41 and put on a combined 65 runs with Nos. 9, 10 and 11.
And thanks to the fact that they have two genuine spin-bowling allrounders, Bangladesh still had five proper bowlers. None of them bowled badly on the day; they in fact began their defence of 245 in most impressive fashion, causing nearly as much discomfort as New Zealand's bowlers had with the new and semi-new ball. Bangladesh played 27 false shots in the first 15 overs of their innings, and lost four wickets in the process. New Zealand played 24 false shots and lost one wicket.
It just wasn't Bangladesh's day.
The toss didn't favour them either. As in the first game at this venue, between India and Australia, dew made life easier for the chasing side. It didn't necessarily compromise the control of Bangladesh's spinners - Shakib Al Hasan bowled beautifully, and Mehidy Hasan Miraz, while not offering much of a wicket threat, didn't stray too far from a good length - but it considerably reduced their effectiveness. Where there hadn't been a great deal of turn for New Zealand's spinners, the ball had gripped to the extent that it didn't always come on to the bat. During the chase, however, the ball almost always skidded off the surface and allowed batters to punch comfortably through the line.
And it didn't seem to make a difference even if New Zealand's batters mis-hit the ball. Daryl Mitchell, their eventual top-scorer, stepped out to Shakib off the first ball he faced, failed to reach the pitch of it, and sliced it high towards long-off. It was the antithesis of the Litton dismissal: where that pinged off the middle of the bat and ended up in the boundary fielder's grasp, this one skewed in an unintended direction and ended up palmed over the rope by a desperately backtracking fielder. Mitchell would continue to ride his luck, having another lofted hit palmed into the field of play by a boundary-rider - Litton, cruelly enough - and miscuing balls into vacant spaces between fielders. Mitchell ended up with a control percentage of 76, the worst of the game's three half-centurions.
All these little bits of one-sided luck added up, to the extent that New Zealand coasted home with 7.1 overs to spare. It was a somewhat deceptive margin, widened by factors not in either team's control.
It was the kind of game where one team was clearly better from the start, in a number of crucial ways. Bangladesh have assembled an impressive pace attack, perhaps the best in their history, but they don't have anyone at Boult's level of quality and know-how or Ferguson's level of pace and menace. They have a batting line-up with a good mix of experienced pros and young up-and-comers, but they lack genuine power-hitters. The one area where they compete on an equal-or-better footing with New Zealand is spin bowling, and it was expected to give them a real chance if this was a typical Chepauk pitch, but it wasn't.
This was the kind of game where Bangladesh desperately needed a bit of luck to fall their way. It refused to, resolutely, and Litton's sweetly timed but ill-fated flick proved a sure sign of what was to come.