The man who put the steel back in English cricket<BR>Paper View

Nasser Hussain began his captaincy with the press muttering that he was the least-liked player on the county circuit and a self-important brat. Through his obvious passion and his impressive early results he became "the man who put the steel back in English cricket". And by getting out when he did, most commentators agreed that he ended his reign with that reputation intact - just.

From the day in 1988 when the England selectors knifed Mike Gatting as captain, to Margaret Thatcher's tearful exit from Downing Street in 1991, Matthew Engel of The Guardian has seen plenty of sporting and political figures take their leave in inglorious style.

While bringing characteristic perspective to Hussain's resignation - "For sheer shock value, I can't think of anything to match it since Harold Wilson walked out of Downing Street for no obvious reason 27 years ago" - he argues that Hussain got it just about right: "You have to hand it to Nasser. He got out when the going was, if not exactly good, then at least only mildly boggy. He could not leave in triumph - only Mike Brearley has managed that in the modern era - but he went on his own terms and in his own time."

Christopher Martin-Jenkins agreed that Hussain's reputation remained intact, admitting the effectiveness of his Jardine-like determination in The Times: "Hussain was a renowned street-fighter, not especially liked by his opponents, but that has never seemed to bother him. He has continued to give no quarter, missing few tricks on the field and being prepared to apply tactics that were more pragmatic than popular.

"He has succeeded in bringing to the dressing-room a bloody-minded determination to give nothing away to any opposition. He has stopped the rot and the character that he has brought to a job that has exercised him severely on and off the field for the better part of five years won him an OBE last year."

In The Independent, Gus Fraser, a former team-mate of Hussain's, zeroed in on what he brought to the dressing room: "Through being honest and loyal to those who played under him and by being prepared to defend them and take the flak when it flew, Hussain won his players over."

But not everyone thought Hussain had got out in time. For Mike Walters in The Mirror he had become an anachronism who clung on too long: "During his seven-week sabbatical in county cricket, Hussain had watched heir apparent Michael Vaughan plonk two limited-overs trophies on the Lord's mantelpiece with a dynamic new leadership style of huddles and dressing-room democracy.

"And while South African openers Graeme Smith and Herschelle Gibbs were leaving trails of scorched earth across Birmingham, Hussain's last penny in the fruit machine dropped. His time had come and gone."

Nor did everyone tip-toe around the abrasive streak in Hussain's make up: "He captained his country much as he led his working life, a human volcano constantly on the verge of an eruption," wrote Derek Pringle in The Daily Telegraph. "Walking away from the job he craved and had invested so much effort in was more painful than any of the broken bones he suffered in the line of duty."

But it was perhaps the Financial Times who caught the general mood most succinctly. "He brought passion and a flinty resolve to a team that crumbled too easily... He transformed his team into a tough and combative Test unit capable of vying with all but the untouchable Australians."