The Surfer

Botham was – and Anderson is – a swing bowler through and through and at this point we should be clear about the distinction between that and someone who can swing the ball. It is not just nit-picking semantics. Matthew Hoggard, say, could swing the ball, but he did so on his action, with a lowish arm, and one way only. A genuine swing bowler is a manipulator of the ball. He can work it this way and that at will with a tilt of the wrist and little more. He uses swing as a spinner does variations. Botham could do this and so too could Richard Ellison and the Worcestershire bowler Phil Newport, who had a brief flirtation with the England side.

The emphasis is changing. He is not Fred the cricketer any more, he is Fred the personality. He is earning millions through not playing cricket, the income from which would be small beer by comparison. It would be hard to believe that he has exiled himself in Dubai primarily for tax reasons or warm weather rather than getting paid a large sum to promote the place. A major high street bank rewards him handsomely because he is an "A list" companion of choice for major clients. He is going off on a motorcycle "odyssey" across India for some TV company or other. The cash is rolling in and will continue to do so.

... the fact is that Flintoff's body has reached the point where he will never fully recover and he can only ever be patched up. We have seen it before with Michael Vaughan, Ashley Giles and Simon Jones. This has been going on for a long time and, basically, Freddie's body is just packing up in terms of him being a top-flight cricketer again.

When his short-lived captaincy ended in tears in early 2009, Pietersen averaged slightly above 50 in Test cricket, the benchmark for possible greatness. Since then, his average has been 42.92 and, since his return from the Achilles operation which forced him to miss most of last summer's Ashes, he has scored 550 runs at 39.28, which makes him human after all. He is struggling and part of the trouble is that he is having to try to rediscover form in international cricket.

This ton at Trent Bridge, though, is a proper Test ton: made in the second innings, against a genuine Test class bowling attack in helpful conditions, with the team in a spot of bother. A few more of those, especially if one of them comes against Australia, and I guarantee that Matt Prior need never worry about not having the full backing of the England fans again.

The quietly spoken Tindill prided himself on fairness and impartiality. The World War II veteran (New Zealand Expeditionary Force), All Black, New Zealand wicketkeeper/batsman, test rugby referee and test cricket umpire never regretted his part in the famous "try that wasn't" at Athletic Park in 1956.

To this writer he was a dear relative, a great-uncle to be exact. My family took immense pride in having a figure of his significance amongst us. Even though I only spent time with him on a few occasions, those times are memories I treasure. He lived in a modest residence in the suburbs of Wellington with his sole daughter, Molly. She provided great care to her father and was a lively presence, always welcoming us into their home, never letting us leave hungry.

Today we witnessed Anderson the artist again. The supple wrist in alliance with the first and second fingers on his right hand smoothly released the proud seam of the ominously dark Dukes ball down the Trent Bridge pitch. And the ball swung in – or it swing out – depending upon Anderson's whim. On days like this he is as beguiling as any classical wrist‑spinner.

Halsall, born in Zimbabwe, played second XI cricket for Lancashire before graduating in sports science. Perhaps unsurprisingly, given that, as an 11-year-old, he represented the North of England against the South at throwing the cricket ball, he has found his niche helping top-flight players hone their fielding skills.

As luck would have it, during the lunch break, Sky filled in some of the gaping holes in my knowledge of the game with archive features; one looking at past Tests between England and Pakistan, and another on the history of the one-day game. I am aware of the arguments for widening cricket's constituency by showing it on terrestrial TV but, from a purely selfish point of view, the all‑encompassing nature of the satellite coverage provides the kind of total immersion I need at this stage.

When it comes to its evaluation, the WICB needs to consider an adjustment to the format and a time frame outside the rainy season. Competition between the six territorial teams, with each playing the other and the top four then moving on to semi-finals, would raise standards and create even more intensity. As it was, Barbados and Trinidad and Tobago, the Caribbean's sternest rivals, didn't meet. Nor did Barbados and the Leewards and Jamaica and the Windwards.

The foursome of Kumble, Dravid, Ganguly and Tendulkar played together in a record 86 Tests; add Laxman to that list, and the world record is still theirs, with 65 Tests. Bring Sehwag into the equation, and that lot has played 36 Tests together. These are impressive figures, and speak of a settled team over a long period. They speak of remarkable skill and consistency in all conditions, against all opponents.

These are marks the next generation will be aiming at. It would be unfair to expect a whole new ready-made bunch to slip into the shoes of the masters. Over the next year or two, the Indian team will be in transition, the famed batting line-up reduced to figures in record books. We should have got to know their replacements by now. This is how teams evolve — some players making it through long-term planning and others taking a short cut in an emergency.