And on the seventh day...

Contrary to received wisdom, humble pie doesn’t actually taste that awful. Or need not. Granted, it doesn’t exactly boost the confidence and self-esteem to be proved totally and utterly wrong. On the other hand, when the wider interest is as admirably served as it has been by England and India over the past fortnight, only a fully-qualified curmudgeon could complain.

Before the one-day series began, two thoughts were uppermost, one a good deal more widespread than the other. First, that tours comprising three Tests and a seven-part one-day series should be never, ever be deemed worthy of a nation’s time or money again. Second, why on earth had those entrepreneurial ICC mandarins of ours not heeded the leaders of the major team sports in North America, home of the best-of-seven series? Over there, they have it sussed. If the outcome of a septet or quintet of playoff games is decided in the minimum number, that’s it. No 7-0s or 6-1s or 5-0s. No room to question motivation. No scope to subdue the heat of battle. True, this does mean medium-sized migraines for clubs, supporters and media, forced as they are to make last-minute decisions depending on the previous night’s result, but they cope.

Indeed, a seven-game series was the source of my most memorable journalistic assignment: baseball’s 1991 World Series. Atlanta’s Braves and Minnesota’s Twins grappled over nine days, taking turns to make home advantage count, before the latter took the finale in extra-innings. Neither before nor since, in my experience, has sport better justified its reputation as reality theatre.

Of course, staging a one-day series on the home turf of both participants, the sole viable excuse for a seven-match series, is impractical: even 50-over matches last three times as long as the average baseball game. Nevertheless, even though the ICC rankings take individual matches into account (to an extent), the series score remains paramount. As a consequence, the potential for torpor and ennui seems unlimited.

So much for all that. Paul Collingwood and Rahul Dravid’s teams have regaled and entranced us with a string of vivid scraps full of rollercoastering emotions and script-shredding twists. Big scores, big hitters, clever pace bowling, quality spin (albeit almost exclusively of an Indian persuasion), breathtaking fielding (albeit almost entirely of English origin) and, best and most tellingly of all, more tight finishes than loose ones. As a result of which, glory be, a cricketing Game 7 is, for once, as exhilarating a prospect as its World Series counterpart. That Lord’s should be the venue is only right and proper. The rugby union World Cup, the European Football Championship and the US Open tennis may dominate the headlines come Sunday, but I know where I want to be on Saturday.

The 50-over format has had a pretty good bashing in recent times, and rightly so. The World Cup was a yawn, a complete letdown. Fortunately, being the best two Test sides on the planet behind Australia, tussles between England and India, so tepid for so long, are now blessed with a keen, if occasionally over-sharp, edge. Despite India’s overall victory, this summer’s ludicrously truncated, three-chapter five-day rubber contained enough switches in fortune and power to fill a John Grisham novel. But would seven Tests followed by three one-dayers really have made a tastier meal? I doubt it, though a 5-5 split would have been eminently acceptable, not to say profoundly sensible.

Better yet, as Andy Zaltzman highlighted in his splendid column for The Times today, this series has proffered the shot in the arm the game so sorely needs, bedevilled as it currently is by a seemingly interminable spate of high-profile retirements. Kevin Pietersen is alone in the current top 15 of the ICC Test rankings for batsmen, Andy pointed out, in being under 29. And eight of the top 10 bowlers, no less disconcertingly, are thirtysomethings. Happily, if perhaps inevitably - a seven-hour contest is rather more suited to a young man’s concentration and temperament than a 30-hour affair - the generation gap has been yawning a good deal less blatantly as this series has worn on.

In a match littered with an uncommon number of strong individual contributions, Wednesday’s key figures, with the exception of Sachin Tendulkar, Sourav Ganguly and Dmitri Mascarenhas, were all under 29, and mostly a good deal greener: Pietersen, Owais Shah, Luke Wright, Ian Bell and Stuart Broad for England, for India Piyush Chawla, MS Dhoni, Zaheer Khan, Gautam Gambhir and, most memorably of all, Robin Uthappa, whose nervelessness at the death was awesome in the extreme.

In the previous five episodes, Alastair Cook, James Anderson and Yuvraj Singh had all imposed themselves at various times. Moreover, several of these bright young (and youngish) things are already touting their impressive wares in Tests. There are few reasons to believe that a sizeable majority of the remainder, most notably the precocious Chawla, will not soon follow suit.

As for Peter Hartley’s decision to give Paul Collingwood out at The Oval after referring to the big screen rather than the third umpire, bloody good for him. Commonsense prevailed, justice was done: end of story. Oh, that the latter could so clearly be seen to be done a wee bit more often in our courtrooms and parliaments.