Lord’s —The Home of Cricket. A place of tradition, cucumber sandwiches, and polite murmurs of “well played, old chap.” Yesterday? It looked like someone had spiked the pitch with revenge, LSD, and a dodgy batch of swing-friendly weather. Sixteen wickets fell. Sixteen. On Day One. In a Test match. At the spiritual home of the five-day snoozefest. I haven’t seen this many collapses since my last attempt at baking a soufflé. New Zealand won the toss and, with the wisdom of a man