Root and Stokes grind down weary India to stretch lead beyond 100

ONCE in a generation, if that, there appears an athlete whose greatness is more than what can ever be measured on a football pitch, inside a boxing ring, or on a running track.
In the world of that most international of sports, football, Diego Maradona was greatness personified. He played the game like a man whose genius existed to serve his team, not as someone for whom the team existed to serve his genius. It’s the difference between the ideals of the collective and those of the individual. When it came to Maradona, such was his commitment to the former and rejection of the latter that he would, you always sensed, have happily pushed the team bus with his teammates on it if he ever had to.
Diego Maradona truly arrived on the global stage just after Argentina won the 1978 World Cup as the hosts. Ruled in this period by a brutal fascist junta, football for the Argentinian masses was more than a sport — it was a necessary if all too brief affirmation of life lived with joy instead of fear.

Mary Kom’s fists made history in the boxing world. Malak Mesleh’s never got the chance. One story ends in glory, the other in grief — but both highlight the defiance of women who dare to fight, writes JOHN WIGHT

The Khelif gender row shows no sign of being resolved to the satisfaction of anyone involved anytime soon, says boxing writer JOHN WIGHT

When Patterson and Liston met in the ring in 1962, it was more than a title bout — it was a collision of two black archetypes shaped by white America’s fears and fantasies, writes JOHN WIGHT

In the land of white supremacy, colonialism and the foul legacy of the KKK, JOHN WIGHT knows that to resist the fascism unleashed by Trump is to do God’s work