Cook and Clarke: two good men riding a dangerous wave

This is the tale of two captains. One a winner, one a loser. A tale of two good men who ride a dangerous wave. Beneath them are sharks, above them only sky. Somewhere in the middle is the perfect ride, a moment when the stars align and the lightness of being makes all things possible.

Never have consecutive Ashes Test matches been won and lost so easily or so quickly. Alastair Cook's joyful disbelief must be measured against Michael Clarke's decision to retire from the game after the Oval Test. The fallout from defeat is sensational and painful. Eighteen months ago, after England's disastrous tour down under, Cook was close to being dumped. Now it is Clarke's time and he has taken the decision out of the hands of others.

Clearly enough, his batting has lost its magic. When best, he played with an organised technique and a free spirit. Michael Vaughan talks about Clarke's frightening ability to take the game away from you almost before anyone noticed. The square and straight drives stood out, along with the concentration. Nowadays he is stuck in the crease, a shadow of the boy whose clean look, blond streaks and diamond stud signalled a modernism that others mistrusted. The shadow is pale and unshaven, hollow almost. The Ashes have been lost, there is no fun in that. Oh my Warney and Punter, Haydos, Gilly and Pidge of long ago...

In truth, his values are old-fashioned, like his play, which is much more about touch, charm and placement than muscle. He misses those old blokes who looked after him in the glory days - Shane Warne, of course, Ricky Ponting, Matthew Hayden, Adam Gilchrist and Glenn McGrath. The business with Mickey Arthur a couple of years ago here in England hurt him deeply. The current set-up has less of his style. From being modern man, he will soon be forgotten man - at least as far as dressing-room life is concerned. Put it any which way, Clarke has been dumped. Ouch.

He made the decision last night after an evening with Warne, his great mate. There was precious little choice. Hell is no place for a batsman. Losing the Ashes, again, is no place from which to start over - not at 34 years of age. He spoke well when interviewed, first by Warne for Channel Nine, then by Michael Atherton for Sky, then by all and sundry. He shed a tear. If you were telling the story on the back of a fag packet, you would summarise his thoughts with: it was a privilege to captain Australia and it is painful to bat so badly and to have to kiss the job goodbye. Ouch. He has played four Ashes series in England and lost every one, even with the old 'uns alongside him. Ouch.

Quite why Australia has failed to warm to him remains a mystery. One can only assume it is the bling and a tendency to play a political game in public. His sensitive side is endearing and he has a warm and easy manner. Frankly, the spotlight on these fellows is over the top but that is the price for a mighty income. For all Clarke's innings and victories, his finest hour was at the death of Phillip Hughes, his much-loved friend. Then, he became a rock for the Hughes family and a spokesman for the team, the nation and the game. His emotional strength was more than just admirable, it was a beacon. His eulogy at the service in Macksville will live forever in the memory of all who heard it.

All these things occurred to me while he answered Atherton's questions. Then he moved away for a moment alone, while listening attentively to Cook's turn at the microphone. Later he said he was pleased for Cook, mainly because last year's witch-hunt of the England captain was brutal and demeaning. He knows what that feels like and he would not wish it upon any enemy, not even the captain of the England cricket team.

Moments earlier, Cook had watched on and allowed himself to drift back through recent time. A year or so ago, he considered packing in himself. After the 5-0 humiliation in Australia, there was talk of him being replaced anyway but the selectors - and Paul Downton, then the new MD of England cricket - held firm in the belief that they had a man for all seasons. His lowest base came just before Christmas, when he was sacked as the one-day captain and therefore removed from the World Cup dream. Cruel as this may have been, it was necessary at that specific moment. That England - the selectors, new captain, coach and players - failed to make anything of it is less relevant than the clarity it gave Cook. Eventually.

At first the bitterness he felt threatened to override all else. Gradually, at the encouragement of fresh faces in the corridors of power and with his lovely wife, Alice, eager to see him happy again, the excitement of cricket and the opportunities it brings began to wash over him. The final cleansing came with the appointment of Andrew Strauss - "the most rounded man I have met", says Cook - and the cleansing that Strauss himself embarked upon. You have to hand it to Strauss, his first month in the job was pretty stellar. The following three have followed suit.

Ask Cook if he thought the Ashes could be won this time around and he will say: "Honestly? No." Ask him if he thought the Ashes could be won after the drubbing at Lord's and he will say: "Yes, because of Cardiff." In Cardiff, he saw a team that was not frightened. He saw young men eager for their moment. He saw good choices being made in the heat of battle and smiles in response to moments of duress. He saw physical strength and he saw mental strength. He saw enthusiasm and ambition. He saw a lightness of being. He began to think the stars were aligned.

He cared barely a jot about Lord's because he saw it as a misfire not a reflection. He went to Birmingham utterly convinced his team could, and would, win. And then he lost the toss. Bingo. As Richie Benaud liked to say: "Captaincy is 90% luck and 10% skill but don't try it without the 10%." Cook traded off the 90%. He lost the toss from hell. He would have batted had he won it, he said. But Clarke batted and Australia were bowled out for 136. There is no way back from there, not against men fuelled with desire.

At Trent Bridge he won the toss from heaven and continued trading. Nervous yes but convinced by the massive potential return of the gamble, he shoved Australia in to bat. There was no way back from 136 all out all right, but all out 60 was a fait accompli before many in the crowd had their hands on their first pint.

The Cooks have not slept well these past weeks. Neither did the Vaughans in 2005 or the Strausses in the interim. The Ashes are more than a trophy, they are both a statement and an ownership. In that funny little urn resides a moral and practical achievement that allows one land breathing space and bragging rights over the other. There is a collective "Phew!" when it is won, and then a piss-up. Words such as "redemption" when it is claimed back are thrown around like confetti. So the captain does not sleep well.

Even last night, he did not sleep well. He thought the cricketing gods might play some awful trick. He need not have worried, the job was done pretty damn quick. Two kids, Ben Stokes and Mark Wood, bowled fast and heavy deliveries that swung and seamed and spat. Australia just could not cope.

"The urn returns to England!" was the cry and the money shot was the smile on the captain's face. Cook grabbed three stumps and gave them to the young men around him. He was floating, soaring, flying - and then crying as Atherton began the Q&A. Some things are just too much.

Clarke is right that the witch-hunt for Cook was wrong. Cook has proved it so. He is a tough so-and-so. His patience and belief in the game and its systems was properly tested but his dignity was never once compromised. From lost soul to triumphant leader, Alastair Cook's faith has been rewarded. It is a marvellous story.