Mysterious ways Ward-Prowse an intrinsic artist who brings life to a dead ball like no other

The ritual is almost religious in its precision. He bounces the ball twice on the spot.

- Jonathan Liew

Spins it around in his hands so the Nike swoosh faces upwards. Places it lightly on the ground. Four steps back at a 45-degree angle. A little shuffle to set his feet. A little wipe of the nose on his sleeve. One last look at the target. And then the tiniest pause, the pause that all great art requires. The fractional instant when the picture is already painted, but James Ward-Prowse is the only one who can see it.

The first movement is actually backwards: a little quarter-step, the recoil that will give him the momentum for what follows. And then the explosion: four lightning-fast strides, the last of which ends with the left foot planted tight and the right leg sprung so far back that the calf is touching the hamstring.

If you freeze the tape at the moment of contact, then Ward-Prowse essentially looks like a man in the process of painfully falling over. His body is the shape of a capital J, bent violently at the hip with both legs splayed forward at different angles. The gaze is fixed downwards on the ball and will not lift until it is well into its flight. The force of the swing lifts him clean into the air. There is no earthly way a human body should be able to do this, let alone identically, for days and years on end, without serious injury.