IF EVER a draw can be considered a triumph, this was a triumph. England had the best of the draw in the first Test against India that ended yesterday in Nagpur. And it was Andrew Flintoff’s triumph, not, for once, because of millions of runs and wickets, but because of his performance as third-choice captain in a situation of almost impossible adversity.

Everything had gone wrong. This seemed a tour cursed by the cricketing gods. Injuries and other problems had put England into a position from which, it seemed, disaster was the only option. We’ve seen it all happen before, especially to England teams on the subcontinent.

Adversity can have two effects. One is to bring out the worst in all concerned: the other is to bring out the best. The snag is that it is generally the first. To bring out the second effect is exceptional, a genuinely remarkable sporting achievement.

And it is a question of leadership. Not about bowling changes and field placings, but a matter of setting the tone. Flintoff’s breezy optimism, easy nature and marrow-deep commitment worked right through the squad. This draw was a victory for good vibes.

Setback had followed setback. England lost the captain, Michael Vaughan, to a recurrence of his knee injury, they lost the vice-captain, Marcus Trescothick, to personal problems, and then they lost everybody’s tip for the match-winner, Simon Jones, to a problem with his knee — a different knee from the one he had had problems with before. It all seemed terribly unfair.

England had no choice but to pick three players making their debuts. It was the youngest Test team for 40 years, with not a player over 30. It was a terrible mess: Flintoff was able to turn all these minuses into pluses. It seems that the England cricket team of the 21st century has given up giving up. It is the most glorious and refreshing change.

A captain can be judged on how debutants perform under him. Many a memoir of a great name tells of his isolation and terror in his first match. But Alastair Cook scored 60 and 104 not out, while Monty Panesar’s bowling gave his captain the most important thing a captain can be given on the sub-continent: control over a sustained passage of play.

England declared overnight to leave India needing 368 runs to win in a day’s play. India batted themselves to near-safety before, unexpectedly, having a dramatic dart for the runs with 25 overs left. For a moment it looked as if they might even do it, and Flintoff looked a touch rattled, as anyone would. But if he panicked, he panicked to good purpose, bringing himself on and taking two decisive wickets.

When India were offered the light with almost 12 overs to go, only four wickets in hand and more than a hundred runs to get, they were happy to scoot back to the pavilion. England held the advantage at the close. This will give them heart, a commodity they already have in surplus.

Flintoff can take some credit for other successes in the team, too. Andrew Strauss seems to be clawing his way back into form, while Paul Collingwood looked like a grown-up Test cricketer rather than somebody’s understudy.

It was a remarkable performance from England in general and Flintoff in particular. Every day, or even every session, you expected it all to go wrong, for the tour’s saucy doubts and fears to make themselves manifest on the pitch. But that simply wasn’t allowed.

The sub-continent offers its visitors all kinds of novel philosophical approaches to life. England cricketers of the past have felt that life was preordained, an endless road of hardship, and the reward for reaching its end was more hardship.

Everybody is against us: the cricketers, the umpires, the people, the food, the weather, God or — this being India — all the gods. All life is suffering: just is the wheel.

But Flintoff put all this into reverse. We are masters of our own destiny. From adversity we take strength, from misery, good vibes, from certain defeat, a winning draw. On, then, to Mohali, in a mood that needs to be sustained. Or rather, improved upon.