For years now, one of Shane Warne's delivery in an Ashes Test in England has been touted as the ball of the century, i.e. the Mike Gatting ball. That regulation legbreak, drifting in as it pitched outside leg, fizzing away to beat Gatting stretching forward, clipping the top of off to send the disbelieving batsman on his way as the umpires looked on mesmerised.

But why was that ball not the ball of the 20th century?

The clue lies in the name. No disrespect to Gatting, but with an average of 35.55 across 79 Tests he deserves to be damned by faint praise. He didn't achieve the heights he would have wanted to in his 17-year Test career and, therefore, that ball will always be a highlight in his career. The ball of the century may have already been bowled to a player who has done more on the field than merely face that legspinning ripper from Warne.

If it was the sheer aesthetics of the ball delivered that counted, then which delivery could match Wasim Akram's mindboggling "double-swing" yorker to Dominic Cork? The ball was angled in from around the wicket to the right-hander and seemed initially to swing in with the angle, only to change direction and move away about a third of the way down, squaring Cork up, beating his outside edge and hitting him flush in front of middle. Now there would be a couple of problems with calling this the ball of the century. Firstly, the batsman wasn't given out. Secondly, the batsman was Cork. And the ball of the century cannot, by default, be one that was delivered to a bowler who bats a bit. It doesn't matter how great the delivery was. It just doesn't fit.

Besides, the ball Warne delivered to Gatting wasn't that great. It was just a case of Gatting making a delivery look a lot better than it actually was. Don't take my word for it, take the word of Garry Sobers, one of the sport's all-time greats, who writes in his autobiography:

"... this dismissal was as much Gatting's fault as it was Warne's ability. If a bowler bowls a ball outside leg stump on a turning wicket, you should cover your stumps - that's basic. You cannot be out leg before wicket. If Gatting had gone across instead of trying to play the shot or stand up, it would have been no problem."

Yes, if ever an innocuous legspinner pitching outside leg was forced to look like a magic ball, this was it.

To call the Gatting ball as the ball of the century is similar to calling Muhammad Ali versus Chuck Wepner the fight of the century. You were very courageous, Chuck, but a fight can't be the fight of the century if you're in it. Or it's a bit like calling Rosaline the greatest love of Romeo's life. The truth is, Rosaline, you were just a silly crush, nobody remembers you; where's Juliet? Or like saying that Frodo and Sam taking back the Shire from Saruman was the most valuable thing they did for Middle-earth. Nobody cares about what happens after you've destroyed the ring; it wasn't in the movies.

So don't be fooled by the hype, cricketing world. To call that ball the ball of the century is, in fact, a travesty.

So which ball was the best in this century?

The Gatting ball, for all of its flaws, was undoubtedly bowled by one of the all-time greats of the game, Warne, the Earl of Twirl. But that, as I say, is not enough. There has to be greatness at both ends for a delivery to count as the Ball of the Century. And what delivery could be greater than one that not only gets the greatest batsman of his time out, but actually brings him to his knees?

It is 1997. On a sweltering afternoon in Rawalpindi, Brian Lara, the Prince of Trinidad, is facing up to Waqar Younis, the Sultan of Swing. Lara has already taken ten off the over, going onto the back foot to relatively well pitched-up deliveries, and smashing them through cover and mid-off. Waqar, undeterred, steams in from over the wicket, hurtling down a yorker that looks certain to go well wide of off with the angle. Lara shapes up to go through the off side again. But before he can blink, the ball, as if by magic, changes direction, tailing into his toes. Lara tries to adjust but looks completely flummoxed as the ball clatters into his stumps. The best that he can do is to avoid having his toe broken, desperately moving his feet out of the way of the swinging thunderbolt, and in the process knocking himself off his feet, splattering down embarrassingly on all fours.

Now here is a ball that even Sobers would approve of; unplayable off front or back foot, even by the best in full flow. This is the image, the image of Lara brought down to his knees by Waqar, that the Ball of the Century needs and deserves. So, cricketing world, the next time you are asked about the ball of the century, don't make a reference to the Gatting ball. Let the world know that we have higher standards than that. Our ball of the century will be nothing short of greatness bringing greatness to its knees.

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Saad Sultan is an actor, playwright and lifelong cricket enthusiast. He blogs here