VVS Laxman aside, does any contemporary player penetrate the off side quite so effortlessly, quite so regally? © Getty Images

Events in Kandy and Colombo over the past fortnight have given us Limeys even more reason to believe in the possibility of the improbable. Not only is Michael Vaughan showing signs of re-scaling the heights of 2002 [which is not, admittedly, all that unlike suggesting Michelangelo had another Sistine Chapel in him]; he is also beginning to come to terms with what so many assume to be the toughest job in sport: captaining a cricket team while fully justifying selection as a player.

On the face of it, Vaughan’s Test career endorses that hardy slice of cricketing philosophy: while responsibility may maketh the man, it usually plays merry hell with the batsman. England’s reigning overlord, after all, is averaging more than 20% less with the stripes than he did in the ranks.

On the other hand, as his form thus far in Sri Lanka has reinforced, he does appear to be getting the hang of all that juggling. As I write, up to the end of the second Test in Colombo, he is averaging 39.18 as captain; only once, after scoring a century in each innings against West Indies in 2004, has he averaged more in that capacity – and that was 39.35. Indeed, in his last 14 innings, against West Indies, India and Sri Lanka, he has made 736 runs at nearly 53 – i.e. more than his mean as non-captain. That he is opening again, courtesy of Andrew Strauss’s unexpected decline, seems anything but coincidental: in that position he averages 49.08, elsewhere almost 10 runs fewer.

So, is that old saw, about returns diminishing as duties increase, really borne out by the evidence? Take a look at the following list of current or recent batsmen-captains:

Average as captain

Ponting 65.83 (up from 55.97 not as captain)
Jayawardene 60.41 (47.80)
Lara 57.83 (50.12)
Inzamam 52.10 (48.73)
Dravid 44.51 (59.30)
Fleming 40.59 (36.77)
Vaughan 39.18 (50.98)
Smith 45.25 (55.09)

Smith is an awkward case – all but eight of his 66 Tests have been as captain, in which capacity he was averaging 72 after his first seven matches, thanks primarily to those successive double-tons against England in 2003. The decline, though, has been steady, long and virtually uninterrupted. As for Vaughan, he became captain amid the glow of one of the purplest patches the modern game has witnessed, so again, the only way was down. (Indeed, he was averaging more, 50.98, than at any time in his career when he assumed the reins against South Africa at Lord’s in 2003.) Given that helming India is probably the most demanding job in sport, and that he, too, was surfing the crest of a wave when he inherited it, Dravid’s waning is even more forgivable. The surprise, to many, will be that as many as five of the eight players above became more productive with responsibility, Jayawardene, Ponting and Lara appreciably so.

Now let’s toss in, at something akin to random, 12 notables of distant and recent yesteryear who doubled as skippers:

Bradman 101.51 (98.69)
Hammond 55.23 (59.48)
Sobers 58.80 (57.01)
Gavaskar 50.72 (51.33)
Javed Miandad 50.08 (53.53)
Hutton 52.14 (58.47)
Lloyd 51.30 (38.67)
Richards 45.11 (53.64)
Ian Chappell 50.00 (37.26)
Steve Waugh 52.30 (50.44)
Hussain 36.04 (38.10)
M Taylor 39.63 (46.97)

Almost 60% of the above (seven out of 12) endured a decline in productivity as leaders, yes, but of rather more significance is the fact that more than 40% (five) improved, Chappell and Lloyd especially.

Merging these two lists, moreover, demonstrates the relatively insignificant negative impact captaincy can have:

Biggest rise

Chappell + 12.74
Lloyd + 12.63
Jayawardene + 12.61
Ponting + 9.86
Lara + 7.71
Fleming + 3.82
Inzamam + 3.37
Bradman + 2.82
Waugh + 1.86
Sobers + 1.79

Biggest fall

Dravid – 14.79
Vaughan – 11.80
Smith – 9.84
Richards – 8.53
Taylor -7.34
Hutton – 6.33
Hammond – 4.25
Miandad – 3.45
Hussain – 2.06
Gavaskar – 0.61

Those least touched by the cares of leadership have been Gavaskar (0.61 difference), Sobers (1.79), Waugh (1.86), Hussain (2.06) and Bradman (2.82). Of the 20 batsmen under examination, furthermore, only six can be said to have suffered in any substantive way (average reduced by more than 5%) from carrying the extra burden – Dravid, Vaughan, Smith, Richards, Hutton and Taylor. Since they all averaged 39-plus, moreover, none can be said to have been conspicuously unworthy batting selections in the way that, say, Mike Brearley (22.48) or even Jeremy Coney (30.19) were. So much, then, for received wisdom.

Vaughan, though, has something else to commend him. Lara’s retirement from the five-day arena may have left a vast void on the aesthetic front, but the Sheriff of Sheffield’s post-knee-op rebirth has plugged a few gaps. VVS Laxman aside, does any contemporary player penetrate the off side quite so effortlessly, quite so regally? Not to these eyes. Throw in a follow-through that might have inspired Rembrandt and the artistic impression is nigh-on Gowerian. Or, come to that, Azharuddin. Six-point-zeroes all round.

Which prompted another mischievous thought. How about picking a current XI to satisfy the senses, and one on whom, despite their collective eyesoreness and/or greyness, you might wager your last penny not to lose? All right, all right, since you insist…

Sensual XI: Michael Vaughan (capt), Chris Gayle, Ricky Ponting, Mohammad Yousuf, VVS Laxman, Prasanna Jayawardene (wk), Stuart MacGill, Shoaib Akhtar, Brett Lee, Shane Bond, Danish Kaneria.

Undemonstrative XI: Kumar Sangakkara (capt & wk), Michael Hussey, Rahul Dravid, Jacques Kallis, Shivnarine Chanderpaul, Paul Collingwood, Anil Kumble, Shaun Pollock, Matthew Hoggard, Stuart Clark, Paul Harris.

	Ryan Sidebottom's dismissal in the second innings left a bitter taste and lent force to the argument that the days of the strictly reactive third umpire should end © Getty Images

How shall we remember this Test? Let us count the ways. Slowly, appreciatively. The gripping to-and-fro struggle for the upper hand between well-matched sides that kept us guessing until the last, confirming the five-day form as the most edifying and satisfying spectacle thrown up by the competitive arts. The sight of a spinner deciding matters with the new ball. The almost equally estimable bowling of Chaminda Vaas and Matthew Hoggard. Further proof that Kumar Sangakkara is not only the best willow-wielder currently residing on this particular planet but author of the most statistically-impressive sustained streak of form since Braddles. The batting of Ian Bell, Matty Prior and, in the aptest of farewells, Sanath Jayasuriya (thanks awfully for doing so much to preserve this plaything of ours, old boy). The awesome wicketkeeping of the lesser-known Jayawardene. The way Sidebottom’s curls make him look like Rupert Everett playing Charles II. Oh, and Murali beating Warney.

Yet a bitter taste lingers.

If the professionals are to be believed, there were only about 15 minutes of playable light left when Lasith Malinga’s impeccable yorker did for Hoggard. Throw in Sidebottom’s first-innings resistance and it is not that great a stretch to conclude that, had the correct decision been made, England might have escaped with a draw, however much that might have offended one’s notions of justice. And yes, while I am, legally speaking, a Pom, albeit sometimes an abashed one, and England CC are the only sporting team that rouses my emotional prejudices and vestiges of near-shameless patriotism, it would have offended my own notions of justice.

The injustice of Sidebottom’s exit was plain, if not necessarily from the outset. Admittedly, in real time, it was far from obvious, to this couch potato at least, that anything was amiss. That he got an inside edge to the ball that thudded fatally into his pads, however, was beyond doubt from the very first replay transmitted by Sky.

Surely the third umpire, the grandly-monikered Tyron Hirantha Wijewardene, should have been in a position to pick up his walkie-talkie and gently alert Asad Rauf to the bat’s involvement before he made a fool of himself. “Proactivity” may be one of those horrid buzzwords coined by management consultants as a posh-sounding alternative to the traditionally curt-but-reasonably-effective “bloody well get on with it, already”, but this is one case where I heartily applaud its invention. It sounds so...so…ACTIVE.

No blame should be attached to Rauf. It had been a long day, such a draining, concentration-sapping match, and visibility was deteriorating. But this episode served to reinforce the argument a small but avowedly and incredibly sensible cadre of cricket-lovers have been voicing for some time. Namely, that the days of the strictly reactive third official should be terminated with extreme, even excessive, prejudice. One-way relationships seldom work.

	At Rose Bowl, in the first ODI against India, Ian Bell revealed himself to be an authentic international batsman, shedding the shackles of uncertainity and inhibition © Getty Images

For all the stoutness of his Test average (42.39), he has seldom convinced during his four years at the highest level. He has always looked even younger than his years – and not simply because of that slight frame, those cherubic cheeks and that almost sheepish air. It was as if he, too, could not believe he belonged.

While occasionally allowing it to dribble out, he seldom exuded confidence. All too often he appeared hemmed in by a preoccupation with technique, constricted in ambition, restrained, unable to turn good starts into match-turning scores, unable to impose. Which might explain why he has often done better at No.6. Until last night he reminded me of the primary school swot who always finishes top of the class but struggles to keep up once he rises to secondary school and comes up against all the other swots in the catchment area.

But one shot last night prompted even this non-believer to accept, not only that patience remains the greatest virtue, but that he may have been doing Bell a grave disservice. Played on the rise, with something approaching a swagger, an early cover-driven four off RP Singh, his third scoring stroke, demanded to be taken seriously, exceedingly seriously. Suddenly, here was evidence of an authentic international batsman, an accomplished craftsman shedding the shackles of uncertainty and inhibition. “I belong!” it roared. “And now you’re gonna believe it!”

It was that shot that facilitated the other vivid blow in his long-awaited maiden ODI century, at the 46th attempt - a straight six off Piyush Chawla fuelled by footwork that warranted a response from Ginger Rogers.

We’ve been here before, of course: how many illusory “defining" moments did we swear we saw from Mark Ramprakash or Graeme Hick? The difference is that Bell, thanks in the main to central contracts and the manifest benefits of playing in a (mostly) winning team, has always felt secure within the dressing room. No less significantly, he has also been backed by selectors who believe in consistency and a fair crack of that once-merciless whip. British cricket lovers can only hope this is the start of a beautiful relationship.

	Chris Schofield's selection into the England Twenty20 squad, after he had dropped out of the professional game, is heartening considering the lack of legspinners in English cricket © Getty Images

The recall of Chris Schofield to the international fold, for next month’s official dignification of Twenty20 in South Africa, was half the reason for this. Dropping out of the professional game and returning is a trick few have accomplished. Even fewer – Paul Taylor and Ian Ward spring to mind – have come back with a sufficient bang to earn national selection. Small wonder that, upon hearing of his selection for the 30-strong longlist, his mother burst into tears. That her determined son happens be a legspinner spoke to the romantic in us all.

No less heartening was the concurrent showing at Scarborough for England Under-19 of two teenage twirlers, Essex’s Tom Westley (18) and Hampshire’s Liam Dawson (17), who had shared eight wickets to make their Pakistani counterparts follow-on on Sunday then scooped up the first five in the second innings, setting up an innings victory.

That such crumbs should supply any sort of comfort whatsoever tells you all you need to know about the state of English spin. Consider the brewing debate over how many slowies the selectors should nominate for the winter’s three Tests in Sri Lanka. On the basis that Michael Vaughan and Pietersen offer more loop, flight and enterprise than most of the regular county set, does anybody bar Monty Panesar DEMAND selection? Not that I am aware of, hence the likelihood that Rashid will be blooded even earlier than Schofield was. And the latter now accepts that, at 21, he was immature, perhaps a tad arrogant, and that coping with expectations was way beyond his ken.

Not that we have any justifiable reason for expectation. The last world-beating England off-spinner was Jim Laker half a century ago; the last world-beating England leggie was BT Bosanquet, a century ago. Of the dozen spinners with 200 Test wickets, the only Pom is Derek Underwood, and his offerings might just as easily have been characterised as medium-paced cutters. South Africa are even more unblessed, yet Daniel Vettori’s membership of that elite is proof that seamer-friendly conditions should be no bar to entry.

Fitness permitting, Monty should gain admission to the club, and Ashley Giles probably would have done so but for the physical ailments that reportedly make his retirement imminent, but the question remains: why is it such a struggle?

The common complaint, as Giles reinforced when we chatted in 2005, is spin-resistant pitches, a legacy at least in part of Britain’s traditionally inclement climate. The same resistant pitches, presumably, that have seen Mushtaq Ahmed emerge as the key bowler this summer and the past four. In fairness, of late, global warming has led to drier early-season conditions, hence, perhaps, the encouragement for, and strides taken by, the boy Rashid - in Yorkshire of all places.

But the suspicion remains that the traditional English mindset – cautious, pragmatic, proud, more fearful of embarrassment than failure - is at odds with the art of spin. It says much, surely, that the one significant Test career chart an English spinner does top - Ray Illingworth’s economy rate of 1.91 runs per over is the lowest among those who have bowled 10,000 balls over the past 50 years – is one that celebrates defensiveness.

The exceptions-in-chief - the two Phils, Edmonds and Tufnell, and Johnny Wardle – were all mavericks who fell foul of Lord’s. Hence one’s delight at Schofield’s rebirth. However one yearns for Monty to take a leaf out of his mentor Bishan Bedi’s book by tossing it up a little more and bowling a smidge slower, Schofield, another maverick, is likelier to defeat opponents through wit and surprise. Mark Butcher, his captain at Surrey, is certainly quick to laud his flipper.

If he can marry that natural brio and brimming self-belief to control – and his Twenty20 curmudgeonliness suggests he may well be on the way to doing just that - Schofield may yet emerge as the fully-formed “mystery spinner” Nasser Hussain clamoured for when he was initially selected against Zimbabwe in 2000. Sharing a dressing-room with Ian Salisbury, England’s last Great White Legspin Hope, has clearly been beneficial.

“He told me to get the field right because unless you’re Shane Warne you’re always going to bowl bad balls,” Schofield told me a couple of weeks ago. Ah, the W-word. “People need to realise that you can’t compare anyone to him. Fortunately, I think most do now. Look at Adil Rashid. Yorkshire have treated him very well, he’s bowling very consistently and turns it a long way, but the Indians got after him. You’ve got to expect to struggle.”

Schofield, of course, is as well-versed in the art of struggling as any contemporary cricketer. Happily, he is luckier than Edmonds, Tufnell and Wardle: the England selectors and management these days tend to be more enlightened and compassionate, not to say more indulging of apparent soloists.

Let’s just hope, as he develops that pragmatic streak, that Schofield can hang on to that lil’ ol’ devil inside.