The best parties are impromptu

St Lucia is an island of 160,000 people, of which 10,000 bought tickets for a weekend of one-day cricket that no right-minded person believed was remotely possible. It is little wonder then, that when the clouds lifted and word went around that the games were a go-go, the upshot was one of the finest one-day matches imaginable. Impromptu parties are always the best.

And what a party. After developing cabin fever for the best part of a fortnight, the sheer joy of escaping the dressing-room was writ large across the faces of every participant (save England's bowlers in the final analysis). And appropriately enough, it was the most exuberant of the lot who swung the game decisively in the Caribbean's favour, with a tub-thumping assault on James Anderson and Steve Harmison. Dwayne Smith's record-breaking debut century was one of the few joyous moments of West Indies' tour of South Africa last December and January. Now he has provided something extra-special for home consumption.

Although it was Ramnaresh Sarwan who gave West Indies belief with his brace of sixes off Ian Blackwell, it was Smith who injected certainty into the proceedings. None of his team-mates have faced up to Harmison with any enthusiasm at any stage of the series, let alone taken him on with such alacrity. But the same boisterousness that produced such embarrassing dismissals when the chips were down in the Test series, served him perfectly in the who-dares-wins arena of the one-day game.

England will not know what has hit them. But that is hardly surprising, seeing as their thoughts were already drifting homewards, towards the stiff challenge that awaits on home turf against New Zealand later this month. But just as Chris Read stole the match for England last week, so it was West Indies who pinched the game today. This was a far better team effort from England that they produced in Guyana, and for that they must be at least grudgingly satisfied.

But one man in the England camp will be smiling again regardless, although it may be more of a grimace as he contemplates his unfortunate knack of producing centuries in losing causes.

Is it form, or is it frame of mind that makes Marcus Trescothick tick? On today's evidence, it seems we have an answer. In the match that nobody expected to happen, Tresco produced the form that nobody knew he was in - precisely because he wasn't expecting to have to think about it.

The beauty of Trescothick's game is its simplicity. Not many batsmen in the world can reduce Andrew Flintoff to the role of shield-bearer, as he managed during the early part of their 110-run stand for England's fourth wicket today. But then not many batsmen can wipe the ball off front foot and back, through the covers and over midwicket, with the merest transference of body-weight. Trescothick's batting is like the power-steering on a Ferrari. Perfectly balanced, until an over-zealous mechanic chooses to fiddle with it.

That mechanic, in most cases, is Trescothick himself, who tinkered himself into oblivion in Australia last winter, and has forged a reputation over the years as a player who will start a series with a bang, and fizzle out as the tour progresses. Let's not forget the peerless form he was in in the early weeks of the Bangladesh tour, before the doubts and the travel fatigue took root.

Free from the daily grind of international cricket, Trescothick played like the breath of fresh air that he undoubtedly was when he first arrived in international cricket. And so, for that matter, did everyone else in this match. Maybe that old mantra, less is more, really does ring true.