Kane Williamson - Willow-wielding Zen master

Only moments had passed since Ross Taylor had been castled by Mohammed Shami, when Kane Williamson strode out of the dressing-room and perched himself on the boundary board right in front of the outside sitting area for both teams. He still had his batting gear and helmet on. Only 10 minutes earlier, the Kiwi skipper had walked off the field at Seddon Park along the same path raising his bat to acknowledge a standing ovation from his teammates. Surely his 95 had put New Zealand in a position-2 needed from 3 balls-from where they couldn't possibly not win. Surely, he could relax now.

But here he was back out again, now having to make sure he doesn't leave the task of taking the team over the line to anyone else. And he just sat there, gazing into the distance with seemingly not a worry in the world. This was Williamson in his Zen state, even as chaos and confusion ensued all around him. In the middle, the Indians-who weren't even aware that there could be a Super Over before being informed by the umpires-were sorting out their field with Jasprit Bumrah marking his run.

Right behind where Williamson rested, the Indian team management had suddenly thought of Ravindra Jadeja as a better option than their usual go-to shootout option. Coach Ravi Shastri even walked halfway to the pitch for a discussion on the matter with Virat Kohli. Williamson though continued to look away. He only budged finally from his temporary seat once Martin Guptill emerged from the dressing-room and it was time to face Bumrah again. Not like he looked too fussed about his task at hand.

Not like Williamson ever does.

You could have speculated on multiple questions that potentially might have been running through his head when he was waiting. "Why me?" "Why a Super Over?" "Why me in a Super Over again?" But having seen him over the years, you just knew that the only thought in his head would have been which area of Seddon Park he could target off Bumrah to score the maximum runs, like he had done already earlier in the evening. It's like even while the cricket world loves to shower its sympathies on Williamson whenever he or his team fall just short, the man himself dismisses these narrow misses with an "it is what it is" admission. And he doesn't just say it but believes in it too.

That's after all Williamson's sole focus every time he holds a bat in his hand. And it's not only the external elements that become incidental as a result. So single-mindedly engrossed is he on his task at hand that, he is even unaware at times of what he himself is doing. Like with the constant twirling of the bat. Ask him about it, and he almost sounds oblivious to even doing that before, after and at times even while a bowler is running into bowl. He's nearly taken aback by the revelation that at times he's been spotted spinning his bat around in the nets once the fast bowler is halfway through his run-up. As quite incredible as it looks, for Williamson, it's just a subconscious quirk that he doesn't pay much heed to. His conscious mind is after all forever seeking new ventures to enhance his already prolific run-scoring prowess.

And that's how he is in the middle as well. That's his Zen. The concept of being in the zone varies for each of the megastars of modern-day batting. For Steve Smith, it's when he's at his most eccentric. For Virat Kohli, it's when he's at his most intense. For Joe Root, when he's both confident and fidgety. The Williamson zone, however, has always been one of extreme calm. For good measure, he also keeps blowing into his gloves just to make sure even his hands are as cool as his head.

Williamson is the first to admit that he doesn't possess the power to clear the fence at will like others around the world. Hence the need to find new avenues, which in the lead-up to these T20Is has been moving across his crease a little, using the pace, and playing the paddle or the ramp. He's spent at least 20-25 minutes at the end of each session practicing the shot or variants of it, and only been satisfied after he's middled at least six on the trot. He's also had long chats with fielding coach Luke Ronchi about using his hands and his positions in the crease-getting slightly low in his stance so that he can get under the ball being the most-discussed- to help balls even on off-stump over the leg-side boundaries. And it all came to fruition on Wednesday (January 29) at Seddon Park.

How Williamson makes up for his relative lack of brute force is with by far the stillest head in the business. No wonder he leaves even Smith in awe with how late he plays the ball, which is always under his nose. What it also ensures is that he rarely miscues or mishits the ball once he's picked a spot on the field and is fully committed to a stroke. That's because even if he does move around a bit in his crease, his head remains unmoved, and it means he never loses his overall shape. That's also because Williamson is rarely trying to hit the ball too hard-there are some occasions like a couple of his sixes in the first T20I but they're rather rare.

His taking down of Bumrah both in normal play and in the Super Over was based on this very aspect of his batting. Even in the over where he struck three consecutive fours, his movements within the crease are subtle and precise. Slightly to the off for the first one, slightly to the leg for the second and just stand and prey on the bowler's mistake for the third. Many were surprised with how Bumrah couldn't react like you expect him to when faced with the challenge-he did bowl a perfect yorker after the third boundary. Perhaps the cause for it lie in the fact that Williamson hadn't outdone the best white-ball fast bowler in the world by going after him. He'd simply picked on Bumrah's strengths and turned them into his own.

His assault, if you can call it that, against Bumrah wasn't like him bulldozing through a seemingly impenetrable obstacle. It was more like Williamson was carefully manoeuvring and dislodging the bricks one by one like this was a game of Jenga.

That's how Williamson does it, killing you softly. And even if he couldn't get New Zealand home, what we witnessed in Hamilton was not just a batsman at his best but more a Zenmaster at the peak of his powers.