Australia retain the Ashes but not without a fight.

 Australia retain the Ashes but not without a fight.

It all felt as if things were going swimmingly well for English cricket. The first Ashes Test had offered us everything; buccaneering cricket, cricket at its most pulsating, fierce and frenetic, daring and unconventional, enthralling entertainment from both England and Australia and then something that took us by complete surprise. At the time we were truly shocked and ever so flummoxed. At the end of England's first innings captain Ben Stokes sensationally declared at 393 for 7 and most of us thought it was just a hoax, something we must have imagined and nothing more than a rush of the blood to Stokes head.

But then we realised that this was just a strategic ploy to lull the Aussies into a false sense of security. Set the baggy green caps a specific target in the hope they'd topple over like skittles in a bowling alley. But Australia had Steve Smith, Pat Cummins, Travis Head and Cameron Green in their ranks. Mitchell Starc, too, was steaming into bowl with fire, brimstone, typical Australian savagery and uncompromising length and line. They also had one of the finest and most uplifting of sights. Marcus Labuschagne came from an esteemed Australian batting heritage and his were performances of polished brilliance and artistry.

Throughout the Ashes series though, the Australians remembered just how good it felt to get one over England, one upmanship of the highest order. At some point during this last Test summer of the Ashes the Australians were lofting sixes and fours high over the pavilions rather like like baseball legends with a different kind of ball. There were magnificently placed shots swept joyously through the covers, soaring over deep mid wicket, flying past gully and then destined for a whole sequence of boundaries. There were violently powerful shots that landed in alcoholic bars and imposing terraces. It was  cricket to treasure and fondly recall with nostalgic pride in years to come.

In the final Test, with the series levelled and the Australians proudly holding onto their precious urn, Stuart Broad, England's most spectacular of quickie fast bowlers, delivered his final ball in Test cricket. Broad came thundering into the crease like an English country locomotive train, bandana dripping with sweat and fully aware of the legendary status that he had achieved. You cast your mind back to his educated cricketing ancestors and then lingered for a while, thinking back to when cricket was more sedate and formal where patience was indeed a virtue and Geoff Boycott just took his time and plenty of it.

Long ago, you recalled Geoff Arnold and John Snow, Sussex and Surrey in perfect harmony, Arnold gingerly trotting forward then speeding towards the crease. With ball clenched between his fingers, the Surrey paceman bowled with a neatness and precision that left batsmen baffled and bewildered. Then there was Snow, quicker and nimbler while also deadly with the ball that moved and swung away from the batsmen before cutting back into the batter with sharp and deadly intent.

A decade later there was the inimitable Sir Ian Botham, the consistently industrious and invariably accurate Chris Old and then there was Bob Willis. Here were men of style and steel, character and the most amiable temperament. Both Botham and the now sadly late Bob Willis were bowling demons, destructive forces when the mood took them. They were also the men who dramatically changed the course of the 1981 Ashes series when it looked as if the urn was going straight back to Sydney, Melbourne, Adelaide and Brisbane. The wombats and koalas could hardly wait any longer.

And so it is that England reluctantly accept defeat yet again and an English summer heads for the mellow mists of autumn without its Ashes. At the Lords Tavern they'll be drinking a regretful pint or several, discussing the merits of the declaration that none of us could have anticipated when Ben Stokes was first questioned and then embraced for a derring do adventure. It had been an Ashes series that may have disappointed some in the land of Blighty but still savoured with just a hint of pleasure. It was a summer of  cricketing arts and crafts displayed in all their heroic splendour. Those old rivals had done it again.