James Anderson’s career as an international cricketer has been over at least half a dozen times already.

Poor form, poor confidence, poor coaching, bad luck with injury, bad luck with selection: Anderson has done the lot. People have invested faith in him, people have lost faith in him. He has been written off a thousand times.

But there he is, playing cricket for England — the leader of the attack, no less. The main man, the go-to guy. It’s an extraordinary transformation. He used to be the prodigy who never trained on; the bowler with a purple streak in his hair, not a figure to inspire instant respect.

On Friday he had a bit of a day of it. It began with the merriest of last-wicket stands of 47 runs with Graham Onions, precisely what England needed after losing three wickets in the first three overs. It was a stand that changed the day. We might be saying match, or even series in due course.

Anderson made 25 of them with a fine mixture of exuberance and intelligence. It was perfect: this Australia side are full of talent but need to have their self-esteem propped up on a fairly regular basis. These are not players hardened in victory. Every now and then, they all wonder if they are quite good enough to follow all those great cricketers so recently retired.

So they went out to bat feeling ever so slightly ill at ease with themselves; and who was there to greet them in this troubled mood but Anderson, with a fine bounce in his step after his great innings. The man of eternal fragilities bowled with zip and confidence and purpose and the Australians didn’t seem to like it much.

Phillip Hughes is a mad little thing, yet to settle down to Test match cricket in England, and Anderson persuaded him to glove one down the leg side to Matt Prior. Then he got the Australia captain, Ricky Ponting, the prize wicket. A rum one, this: Ponting was given out caught at slip off a ball he never laid a bat on, but it hit his pad and he should have been out leg-before — not that Rudi Koertzen, the umpire, would have given it.

So credit to Anderson, and credit for being lucky as well, and still more credit for pushing Australia to ten for two. He looked the part, England’s No 1, a fast bowler at the top of his game. It wasn’t always like this.

He came into international cricket as a stripling of 20 with a 90mph outswinger, won a man-of-the-match award in the World Cup, had a five-fer on his Test match debut against Zimbabwe and a hat-trick against Pakistan in a one-dayer. What could possibly go wrong?

Injury. Fatigue. Confidence. A reality check against South Africa. Then an attempt to rebuild his action. All done with the best possible intentions: he looked at the ground as he released the ball, and it was felt that this action would lead to long-term injury. Instead, it led to a long-term confidence loss.

Into the side, out of the side, back again, gone again. And no luck. Out of the side for the Ashes of 2005, back in again for the Ashes whitewash 18 months later. He had a stress fracture of the back. Nothing seemed to be going terribly well, a golden youth prone to purple patches had become a fringe player.

The turning point came in New Zealand last year, when, not selected again, aghast at yet another round of gyms and nets and twelfth-manning, he got permission to play for Auckland against Hamilton. He certainly didn’t give them an earthshaking performance — perhaps it was just making the decision, breaking the cycle of disappointment and rejection that mattered to him.

Anyway, England lost, Anderson was back in the team, grabbed another five-fer and, back with his old action and his old confidence and his old rhythm and swing, he was not only back in the team but their altogether unexpected linchpin.

Yesterday, he was given another spell after tea and at once started taking wickets again, Michael Clarke poking to mid-wicket and Marcus North dragging on to his stumps. He looked menacing — the Australians were respectful, even at times fearful.

Confidence was always the missing ingredient needed to make him a Test match bowler; authority is the one thing he still lacks if he is to be a player of real substance. He has time, although not much: he is 26, all but 27, but he is a man who has grown accustomed to transformation. Certainly, he now knows he can do it against Australia and that’s not a bad thing to have on your CV. This may just be the summer he was made for.