At Headingley, under clouds that seemed to hold their breath, Jasprit Bumrah carved his name a little deeper into the stone of cricket history.
He took the ball in hand not just as a fast bowler, but as India’s spearhead, India’s statement.
In the second session of the second day against England, Bumrah opened his spell with clinical intent.
The crowd barely had time to settle when he struck—Zak Crawley, on six balls and four runs, dangled his bat once too many.
Karun Nair in the slip cordon pounced, and Bumrah had his first. But that was just the opening scene.
Ben Duckett had settled in. He and Ollie Pope were building something dangerous, something steady.
Their 122-run stand threatened to take the day away from India. Bumrah waited, watched, then delivered a delivery that split Duckett’s world in half.
The ball cut in and slammed into the stumps. The sound was clean. The celebration was restrained. Bumrah had already turned back, eyes locked on no one and nothing.
He had done what he came for. It was his ninth over of the day, his second wicket, and it carried more weight than numbers could show.
That dismissal didn’t just break a partnership; it elevated Bumrah to the top of a mountain no other Asian fast bowler has ever climbed.
Bumrah’s record in SENA countries:
With 147 wickets now in South Africa, England, New Zealand, and Australia—collectively known as SENA—Bumrah stands alone.
He has overtaken Pakistan’s Wasim Akram, a legend of the game, who had 146 wickets in the same regions.
This isn’t a comparison; it’s a continuation of greatness in a different era, by a bowler who doesn’t talk much but says plenty with the ball.
His journey to this point has been stitched together with spells of precision, fire and silence.
In Australia, he’s hunted down 64 wickets in 12 Tests, including a spell of 6 for 33 that once cracked open the hosts.
In England, this current tour has taken his tally to 39 in 10 matches, with more to come.
South Africa has seen him at his snarling best, with 38 wickets in just 8 Tests. Even in New Zealand, across only two matches, he has six victims.
There is poetry in his movement—measured steps, the slinging arm, the snap of wrist, the explosion off the pitch. And there is purpose.
Each wicket in these lands, each name added to his list, comes from a desire to conquer the most difficult conditions for Asian pacers.
He never needed green pitches to thrive, but he turned them into his canvas anyway.
India has had many great bowlers. Anil Kumble, Ishant Sharma, Muttiah Muralitharan, all legends, all masters. But in this exact realm—foreign lands with foreign winds and bouncier tracks—none have done what Bumrah has.
At just 31, and with his body once thought too fragile for long spells, Bumrah keeps pushing.
He walks through pain. He walks through expectation. And when the stage rises, so does he.
Today, at Headingley, he didn’t just dismiss Duckett and Crawley. He stepped beyond Wasim Akram, beyond every Asian bowler who came before him in SENA.
He did it without noise, without fuss. Just another day, just another ball, just another wicket that told you: Jasprit Bumrah is not done yet. Not even close.