It’s the 19th over of the Nidahas Trophy final in Colombo. India need 34 off 12 balls to beat Bangladesh. Dinesh Karthik is about to face his first delivery from Rubel Hossain. It’s full, fast and just outside off. Karthik takes a big stride down the pitch, turning it into a full toss and clouting it over long-on for six.

The second ball is full, fast and just outside off. Karthik stays where he is, and smears it over mid-wicket for four.

The third ball is full, fast and just outside off. This time Karthik takes a big step back in his crease, almost treading on his own stumps, and swings it high over square-leg for six.

But somehow, this feels new, different, transgressive. Fifteen years into T20, it seems batsmen are finally beginning to challenge one of cricket’s longest-held orthodoxies: that good batting comes from repetition and rhythm, grooving and honing your responses until they become second nature. Now the best short-form batsmen – Chris Gayle, Virat Kohli, AB de Villiers – talk of having three possible shots to every ball. Brendon McCullum can launch a length delivery over backward point, over backward square-leg, dead straight, and virtually everywhere in between, and as the ball leaves the bowler’s hand it’s possible even he doesn’t know which one he’ll plump for.

Nor is this purely a short-form phenomenon. Part of Steve Smith’s devastating potency during the Ashes was his ability to mock England’s bowling plans by playing different shots to the same delivery: often to different sides of the ground, sometimes even with different stances, different backlifts. In the rapidly shifting field of batting variation, Smith has been an indisputable pioneer. One of the more oblique reasons to lament his recent troubles is that by the time he returns, he may be no longer.