Something From The Weekend: The Raina renaissance; Suarez the sheriff; the vocal chairman

The Good: The Raina renaissance

After two months of routine failure, India finally produced a batting performance that could look at itself in the mirror. Yesterday's 280 would even have stood up well in comparison with some of the totals they scrambled together in the Test series. Fittingly, the motor of the innings was Suresh Raina (above), who blazed 84 from 75 balls. Having spent the rest of the summer looking as comfortable an international batsman as Phil Tufnell, he seemed a new man again at Lord's, treating the English seamers with the sneering contempt they had previously been showing him since July. Duncan Fletcher might politely enquire of him, though, why he had left all those shots in the dressing room before.

The Bad: Suarez the sheriff

Of all the footballers who could claim to stand for the fierce application of the laws, Luis Suarez (left) is a surprising candidate. Just ask Otman Bakkal, the PSV Eindhoven midfielder who Suarez bit in November last year. Or the people of Ghana, who were denied a place in the World Cup semi-final by Suarez's hands in Johannesburg last summer. But Suarez nevertheless deems himself to be the new sheriff of the Premier League, berating the match officials whenever they fail to enact justice. So it was on Saturday at Stoke, when Suarez felt that Liverpool had been wrongly denied a penalty kick. He sprinted over to the linesman, demanding that the penalty be awarded. How nice it is to see a former sinner so keen for justice to be done.

The Odd: the vocal chairman

Fans are always keen that club owners should be more accountable, so plaudits must go to Bournemouth chairman Eddie Mitchell. His team lost 3-0 at home to Chesterfield on Saturday, and in response Mitchell took to the pitch, with microphone in hand, to talk to the fans who were vocally questioning his competence. "Obviously you don't want to listen to me," he observed, before deciding to challenge of the faithful to a one-on-one debate: "The lad in the leather jacket whose eyes seem to be popping out his head, why don't you jump over the fence and come and have a chat with me?" It was like Delia Smith's "Let's be having you" moment, but with a tinge of potential violence.