There is a lesser-known Cash song entitled The One On The Right Is On The Left. Such a level of confusion is more in keeping with much of what has happened to England since. Squandered opportunities, rescheduled operations and a sometimes shakier order than a Marriott sous chef might manage, have conspired to make the Ashes memories burn ever brighter.

But forget the Ashes. Andrew Flintoff demands it. So does Geoffrey Boycott. They say it is getting in the way now. The trouble with that attitude is that beating Australia on home turf, on terrestrial television, captured the gloating tendencies of a country in a way mixed form on the sub-continent could never do. Like it or not, that rude word scrawled in triumph on Flintoff’s forehead is indelibly marked on the mind of a public well accustomed to attributing such terms to ailing national sides. The best way to forget the old is to find a new hero. Flintoff is still there, of course, a genuine Everyman who started this match with his sleeveless vest exhibiting a tattooed limb, a bacon buttie away from gracing any building site in Britain let alone the Lord’s balcony.

But England have to move on and find fresh blood. So thank heavens for Alastair Cook. Forget the swashbuckling strokeplay that was the hallmark of England’s assault on the front pages last summer. Cook is old school, the sort of man who plays what Boycott would call “proper creekit”. If you squinted when Kevin Pietersen burst on to the scene with his black-and-white hair and swinging bat, it was like watching Test-level badger baiting. By contrast, Cook’s 104 not out in Nagpur was dogged, sometimes pedestrian fare. It was one for the purists, but not those cricketing newcomers seduced by the Ashes and demanding instant gratification.

Cook pitched up yesterday after lunch. It could scarcely have been a better position. The sun beat down, the score was 86 for one and Sri Lanka were the opponents, a side who evidently do not know their right from their left, given the belief that recalling a 36-year-old who recently left the team is the right way forward.

It was fill-your-boots time, but Cook was in no hurry. In at No 3 for Ian Bell, he played it straight in every way. If Pietersen can stop you in your tracks with his recklessness and flamboyance, Cook can stop a scoreboard. He began by playing second fiddle to Marcus Trescothick and then moved to the edge of the orchestra pit.

He went for his tea after taking two hours to reach 44. It had not been flawless with a near run-out and an edge past slip, but he showed that priceless stickability. He is not dull, merely pragmatic.

Before the Test, he faced down questioning about Muttiah Muralitharan by saying that he bowled bad balls like everybody else and when he did so they should be put away. True to his word, he reached his half-century with a bellicose pull.

When Pietersen joined him at 213 for two, we had a contrasting alliance. In an age of fast food, interactive buttons and instant celebrity, Pietersen is a very modern hero. All itchy feet and nervous tics, he treats each ball as a personal insult. But if he was last season’s welcome addition, Cook should become this year’s model. Limited swash perhaps, but not much buckling either.

Musically, he prefers Jack Johnson to Johnny Cash. Johnson, it should be noted, is a middle-of-the road singer who advocates healthy eating, not a man in black who hangs around prisons.

And Cook is still only 21. He knows Michael Vaughan will be back, but get enough runs and he will make himself undroppable. His 50 secured, he drove Chaminda Vaas down the ground for a cultured four. Having started slowly and then calmed down, he was up to a canter and had 11 fours before he finally went for 89.

Nobody should get carried away by improving your figures against Sri Lanka, but nobody who remembers the Ashes is likely to get carried away with a player such as Cook. Not until the next time anyway.

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