For once, our peg-toothed, spade-headed captain has not composed one of his famous waltzes. There was nothing elegant or classical about the way England dragged herself towards a draw at the Old Rec like a sloth traversing a desert.
It will rightly be remembered for the unbearable drama of the closing session, and the hearfelt effort put in by the bowlers and batsmen on the final day. It was a brilliant test match. But if this is what Struass had scripted, it was at the expense of what should have been a well-worked England victory. For a cricket fan the game was a nail banquet, but it made England fans feel a bit sick afterwards.
There’s an unsavoury hint of apathy about the English dressing room, which is especially annoying after the drubbing at Sabina Park. Nowadays, members of the batting team dwell in the shadows of cavernous, bunker-like dressing rooms. We catch the occasional long-range glimpse of them as they stretch and yawn, or maybe huddle anxiously round a laptop. Is it just me who wishes they were lined up in batting order on a bench on the boundary rope? It would at least give the illusion that they cared.