When Ken Schofield and his panel began their deliberations into the state of England cricket, one of the points for consideration was the manner in which the national side was presented to the public, both as a unit and as individuals. A conclusion was that better training was required in media relations so that the players could be viewed as rounded, articulate people with something to say and the knowledge how best to say it, rather than the anodyne zombies many had become, skilled only in the art of saying stuff-all of any value in as few words as necessary for as much money as possible.
Michael Vaughan needs no special training, though, for ever since he became England captain he has provided thoughtful, intelligent comment whenever questioned. Recently in St Lucia, the beautiful Caribbean island that for the England team has taken on the status of Gruinard after the anthrax experiment in 1942, he was asked about match-fixing and rather than obfuscation gave an honest, quotable assessment. Days earlier, of course, he had received a slap in the face when a number of his team went on a drinking binge into the early hours and were shopped to the papers by a member of the public.
One of the group, Andrew Flintoff, progressed to a more nautical theme with a pedalo, was dropped from the next match and lost the vice-captaincy, and England's World cup was never the same again. The beano, inappropriately timed after a defeat and, more pertinently, fewer than 48 hours before a further important match, represented to Vaughan a lack of respect by the culprits for their profession and more restrained team-mates, and for his position as captain. So, as the team's chief executive, he was party to a tough decision, although quieter about it then.
Those who were in St Lucia in the aftermath of that mess will recognise, not without some amusement, the subsequent hangdog over-reaction of the team. The atmosphere had become as flat as a soufflé removed too fast from the oven. From this point, Vaughan suggested in his excellent interview with Donald McRae, they never had a chance.
There is self-delusion here. England never had a chance long before that because for some while they had been a crap side, playing cricket to match while utilising a Neanderthal strategy. In essence, all that happened subsequently was that losing became less fun than it had been. What Vaughan might find bemusing, though, is the reaction now to his candid words given that he is not revealing a state secret but reiterating something that was blindingly obvious at the time. Flintoff will be incandescent, say some, which may be the case, but will he be more so now than he was at the time? Is Vaughan telling him something of which he was not aware and which the general public could not at least surmise? Of course not.
Actually I rather hope Fred will shrug, look quizzical, say "What's Vaughnie on about now?" and wonder, like me, why the fellow has chosen this moment to resurrect an old issue. For make no mistake, the England captain is one person who does not engage gob without first checking that brain is in gear. This is a consummate politician, skilled at placing the right word in the right place to suit his strategy. Some might say that this is Vaughan elevating himself above the masses, demonstrating the freedom of expression that comes with his position but not to the foot soldiers. But candour can easily slip into controversy for the hell of it and here he has created one out of nothing, which I'm sure he did not have in mind.
To my way of thinking, it looks as if it is more a need to reinforce the impression of total authority that might just be teetering on the brink, perhaps with the end of this current series when the one-day matches loom. Later in his interview with McRae, in a telling comment that ought to have been seized upon more voraciously, comes a rare hint of self-doubt, perhaps his first ever. He won't be around in four years' time for the next World cup, he says, so maybe he won't be wanted now.
If it is a call to Peter Moores to put an arm round him and say "Of course I need you" he may be barking up the wrong tree, for the coach is his own man too, it seems. But if he can see the beginning of the end he won't give up readily, without a scrap. Meanwhile, unless Vaughan truly is a special case, it will be open season in the columns, won't it? Some hope.
