Lessons from 25 Days of Grit and What They Taught Me

Siraj, Woakes, Pant, Sundar (PC: Debasis Sen)

Fifty days of touring around England. Five Test matches lasting 25 days. A thousand stories, tales and moments to look back on. But if there’s one lesson I, along with many others watching on a screen, will carry from this Anderson-Tendulkar Trophy, it’s this – never write off a fightback. Throughout the series, even when no one believed, even when the scoreboard said it was over, India showed that with fight and grit, comebacks could define a game.

The lessons start with Mohammed Siraj, the man who bowled the most overs and yet, somehow, never looked like he was done. Even after India won the final match at The Oval, he ran back to the dressing room. I remember him holding up his phone at the press conference, showing a lockscreen that simply said BELIEVE. Siraj explained how it was his mantra and how his entire system is built on self-belief. That one simple word powered him through a brutal, relentless campaign, where he beat the bat 283 times and then still said he could bowl more – “tootne tak [till breaking point].” If that’s not grit, then what is?

Then there was the unlikely hero, Washington Sundar, who was written off before he even stepped on the field. When Washington walked out at Old Trafford, India were trailing by 137. He returned unbeaten on 101, with the match drawn. He stepped up when no one expected it, stitching a partnership with Ravindra Jadeja that saved the game. He answered every delivery with patience and resilience. And his hundred reminded us that heroes don’t always arrive with fanfare. Sometimes, they’re just quietly lurking, waiting for a chance to prove everyone wrong.

And finally, who could forget the two heroes, broken and bruised, yet walking out for their countries? Rishabh Pant and Chris Woakes. When Pant limped out on the field with a broken foot, the entire stadium erupted in applause, gasps and disbelief. The man had arrived at the stadium in a moon boot and then, just when everyone thought he was out of the series, he hobbled down the steps of the Old Trafford dressing room. He added 17 runs to the scoreboard, but it didn’t matter that he got out. It mattered that he turned up. That he tried. That he reminded us what courage really looks like. Then, it was Woakes who walked in one handed, with his left arm tightly bound in a cast under his shirt and sweater. Another warrior who defined courage.

In a world that often rewards polish and perfection, this tour taught me to look for something else: heart. Fight. Grit. The refusal to give up, whether you’re Siraj bowling till your body gives way, Washington carving a century when everyone doubts you, or Pant dragging a broken foot to the crease. This tour was a masterclass in never giving up, in always believing and fighting back. And I walked away not just as a journalist, but as a believer.