The incidental redemption of Cook and England

When you play sport with the proper intensity it becomes the entire world. Nothing else exists. Warfare, terrorism and the ecological holocaust vanish. Personal problems are washed away. The only thing in the entire universe is the quest for victory. It follows that joy in victory is of a peculiarly all-consuming kind. It takes you over and it's as if every single problem in life had been solved forever. And that transforms a face.

I've sat in Olympic stadiums and seen victors alight with transcendental joy. At a stroke the winning athlete turns into the handsomest man, the most beautiful woman who ever drew breath. That moment of empathy when we spectators share that joy is one of the things that keeps bringing us back to sport.

So it was rather wonderful to see the face of Alastair Cook in victory at Trent Bridge last week. It was the face of a man who has seen God, discovered the meaning of life, fallen in love for the first time, cured smallpox and succeeded in turning base metal into gold. We have been more used to seeing the face wracked with all the cares of a troubled world.

It wasn't just that he led England to that traumatic 5-0 defeat in Australia, nor was it just that his own form fell away. And it wasn't just that he was sacked as one-day captain and England did appallingly anyway. It was also the absurd moral burden he has been carrying since the sacking of Kevin Pietersen.

Pietersen was sacked after the Ashes defeat despite being England's top scorer, sacked on moral grounds for his failure to live up to certain ideals of how a team man should behave. What Cook and the England management failed to realise was that if you create a bad guy, the narrative has an instant need for a good guy.

Cook was the only choice. So he became the moral centre of the post-KP England. He was required to make runs and supply victories and inspire cricket of a new and inspiring kind. For a year and more this seemed beyond him. Now - impossibly - it has happened. And against Australia. No wonder he is smiling the smile of all smiles.

The first step to redemption came from the loss of the one-day captaincy. Cook was free to play like a traditional Test match opener again: to favour the leave shot, to wait for the bad ball, to bat in the certainty that in some circumstances time is as important as runs are. His 43 in England's only innings at Trent Bridge was a classic of the kind, making possible the heavier scoring from Joe Root and Jonny Bairstow.

The second and most important step was a collaborative effort involving Brendon McCullum and Ben Stokes. When New Zealand arrived in England earlier this summer all the talk was of their thrilling performance at the World Cup under McCullum's captaincy - when in doubt, attack; when not in doubt, attack.

It put England's fuddy-duddy one-day cricket into perspective and showed the way forward. And when New Zealand played two Tests in England in the same fashion it was inspirational. And apparently infectious.

When New Zealand reduced England to 30 for 4 at Lord's it looked as if they were still locked into the old cycle of defeat and despair. But everything changed in the next hour and a half, not just in the match but in the history of the England team. Stokes played an innings that McCullum would have rejoiced in had he not been playing on the other side, and Root played the secondary role to perfection.

At a stroke England had gone from fuddy-duddies to a vibrant young team. "I don't think we set out to be an ultra-attacking team," said England's assistant coach Paul Farbrace, then in charge. "I think we stumbled across it."

It was a session of play that empowered all the young players in the team. It was a bonfire of the past, an embracing of new possibilities. It was also a spectacular demonstration of the fact that England's future was not in the hands of a 34-year-old cricketer with dodgy knees. England have many reasons to be grateful to Pietersen but here at last was closure.

There was one further step required to complete the redemption of Cook, and that was a sudden glorious tendency to provide wickets that offered a balanced competition between bat and ball. Batsmen have grown accustomed to whacking through the line with half-ton cleavers and thinking they knew about batsmanship. Here was a real examination and Australia were found wanting.

We must be careful not to get moral here. Cook has not found redemption because he was morally right. It just seems that way. He hasn't proved that England were right to back him and not Pietersen. It's always tempting to draw such conclusions because this victory feels like Cook's vindication - not just as a cricketer but as a man.

But there are too many what-ifs. If you accept the notion of Cook's tale as a moral parable you must accept that Australia's ineptitude is proof of Cook's moral character. That won't stand up. Without Steven Smith and Michael Clarke poking at the ball as if they were back in the nets at the WACA there would have been no redemption.

This current England team is a phoenix: ancient but remade, young again for the millionth time and embracing all kinds of notions about cricket that would have been impossible 12 months ago. It's a glorious and inspiring time to watch England play cricket with a red ball.

The trick here - especially for the English - is to savour the great potential of this young and optimistic team while remaining in the present tense. Every time you get ahead of yourself in sport, or for that matter in life, you are betraying yourself.

Instead it's good to rejoice in the present and the recent past and revel in the self-reinvention of the England team and its captain, all the more meaningful because it came about by accident. Cook is the man who stumbled across his own redemption.