THE message of support from Andrew Flintoff was a nice touch. Nothing could have demonstrated more openly the shoulder-to-shoulder spirit that floods through English cricket in this golden period. This time the beneficiary was Darren Gough, but, in a way, that’s just a detail. These days any cricketer who goes in to face the likes of Gloria Hunniford in a live, televised dance-athon, knows he can do so with the full and unconditional backing of his fellow professionals.

Flintoff was beamed in from Australia. “What’s going on?” he said. “I thought I was your dance partner.” A little joke, there, to break the ice. By the end of the message, though, the laughing had stopped and Flintoff’s face had set in accord with the seriousness that always surrounds Strictly Come Dancing. “Good luck,” he muttered.

“Do well.” And Gough did do well. At any rate, his cha-cha-cha earned enough phone votes to guarantee the plain-speaking Yorkshireman’s passage into round two and the rhumba competition this week. We should not underestimate that achievement because, let’s face it, there were moments in round one when — what with the exertion that his routine called for and the sheer tension of the occasion — you wouldn’t have guaranteed the Yorkshireman’s passage at all.

In footage from rehearsals, Gough seemed to be struggling to shake off not the knee problem that many cricket aficionados predicted he would develop, but a facial expression saying, “What on earth am I doing here?” In fairness, that’s a question for which we may never have a completely satisfying answer, even if we follow Strictly Come Dancing all the way through to its Christmas-ready conclusion in ten weeks ’ time. But at least Gough cheered up when he met his professional partner, Lilia. “She wears next to nothing,” he said. In the rehearsal room, as Gough pressed himself against Lilia’s outstretched rear and gyrated his hips, a new version of “reverse swing” was born.

Whether he could repeat that form under the altogether different pressure of the live show, before a Saturday evening audience running to millions, and while wearing a black, capped-sleeve shirt encrusted with sequins, was an altogether different matter.

Fate certainly didn’t smile on Gough’s chances when, having lost the toss, he was sent in to dance first. Better without question in these circumstances to go in later, when some of the other competitors have taken the shine off the new surface and when it might be possible to get the floor to do something.

Yet, in the face of this adversity, and having further survived a gratuitous volley of antique puns, courtesy of Bruce Forsyth, Gough appeared to be positively brimming with confidence. As the band hit the opening bars of Hot Stuff, the paceman’s hair gel glistened, his earring sparkled and his tattoos glowed. Oh, to have been a fly on Fred Trueman’s television set at that point.

Inevitably, there were some imperfections, some loss of rhythm and moments when one wasn’t sure whether Gough was dancing or trying to remove a lit match from the seat of his trousers while semaphoring to the dressing-room for a new bat. But it was still a shock to hear the judges go in quite so hard. Bruno Tonioli compared Gough and Lilia to “the rhino and the showgirl”. Arlene Phillips suggested that Gough lose some weight. And Craig Revel Horwood complained about his “chunky, lumpy, really nasty hands”. It’s about personality,” he went on, “of which we didn’t see any.”

Where have these people been? Do they not realise that, post-Ashes, this is now officially a country in which no cricketer, whether part of the England squad or just friendly with them, can do wrong? Fortunately, the public is more enlightened, and Gough was spared eviction, along with, among others, Jaye Jacobs from Holby City, Zoe Ball and Fiona Phillips from GMTV.

That said, Gough can presumably only rely on the Ashes-related feel-good factor to take him so far. Still stiffer challenges await, not least if Colin Jackson maintains his early form. Fresh from coming nose-to-nose with both a great white and Ruby Wax on Celebrity Shark Bait, Jackson opened his Strictly Come Dancing challenge as if the programme could show him nothing to fear.

Even the judges were obliged to concede that Jackson has “a great potential”, leading one to wonder where this could all lead for the former Olympian. Nevertheless, it will be in his mind that, in its two-series history, no male celebrity has walked off with pro-celebrity ballroom’s biggest prize and that the closest a male track athlete has come was when Roger Black tragically fell short of the final stages last time around.

That’s daunting news for Dennis Taylor also, the third of sport’s troika of challengers in this series. The Irish snooker legend kept his own hopes alive with a cha-cha-cha to Madonna’s Music which was described as both “groovy” and “funky”. And if that’s possible, then maybe the notion of a male sports star clinching the title isn’t so far-fetched after all. It will all come down to dancing in the end.

GILES SMITH RETURNS ON THURSDAY