Mark Butcher's most important stroke was the leave-alone; Hansie Cronje's was the full forward defensive - they became rock-like in long, valuable innings; of the bowlers it was Angus Fraser who gave the impression to the batsman of a tide rolling in to exactly the same spot on the sand, ball after ball.
These three left experiment and adventure behind them in the dressing room. It is not to say that Butcher and Cronje did not play some cracking shots but they had read the pitch perfectly. I could certainly hear warnings from old professionals as soon as I saw the uneven bounce; get on to the front foot whenever you can; play your attacking shots with a straight bat; do not drive 'on the up'. Play the ball when it is underneath your nose. Play by the clock and tell yourself that you will have another 30 runs if you are there in a hour's time.
You would expect every Test player to possess patience and a secure method, but that is not how it works out. Some batsmen have a virtuoso range of strokes. Every ball presents them with a choice of three shots.
Daryll Cullinan loves to dominate, as all outstanding players should, but on a pitch of variable bounce he gives the bowler a chance when the ball is of good length ball just outside off stump. More lavish extemporisations carved a death - Mark Ramprakash and Graeme Hick broke the old pro's adage and attempted square cuts with the cross bat. Hick opened the face of the bat and levered the ball which bounced higher than he imagined to point. Ramprakash, cutting wildly for the third time, got one which kept low enough to snick the bottom edge. And so went Jacques Kallis pulling cross-batted through midwicket and Jonty Rhodes stretching for glory in the off-drive.
On the other hand, many would argue that half an hour of lavish strokeplay on this Headingley pitch could turn out to be gold dust in the context of a low-scoring game. The strokemaker might argue - what is the point of blocking and padding the ball away if you are only waiting for the unplayable missile to arrive? Beware the lust to play attacking shots; it may be the way to victory, but I doubt it.
The South Africans know all about frugal bowling or dodgy pitches and the tactics of attrition. Butcher and Cronje showed the way for batsmen. Their long stays at the crease showed how the game ought to be won. They waited for their half-volleys, found time to score off the back foot because the pitch was slow, played mainly with the bat straight and mostly blocked the ball or left it alone. They rarely tried to play outside the limits of their talents.
The key word was patience. Fraser showed how it works for bowlers. He made the batsman play most of the balls, sent down at nothing above fast-medium but always threatening to magnetise the bat, to draw it away from the body outside the off stump. You could hear batsmen thinking, shall I play at it or leave it ? For a natural strokemaker this is dripping-water torture. Then again, if patient and rather negative bowling is the answer on this pitch what does that require from natural attacking bowlers? Would you expect Allan Donald to concentrate on line and length rather than speed? No. He has wonderful athleticism and the rhythm which gives him a repeatable action.
Even on that Sunday evening at Trent Bridge when he was straining harder than ever he still had absolute control over line and length. A bowler of that speed and control does not always use the pitch: he simply smashes the batsman on the foot or uproots a stump or three. The message of patience was sinking in as the game progressed.
Dominic Cork looked for outswing but saw the ball drift expensively towards the pads of the right-handers. Darren Gough, too, looked for swing and over-pitched. They both settled for the dogged length-and-line and wickets came. Nor have the captains toyed with their strategies in the field. Alec Stewart ruled out experiment. At Trent Bridge he sacrificed control when he followed a long session of tight control by bowling Ian Salisbury expensively. No risk taken this time.
The proof of lessons learned came yesterday with an intelligently crafted partnership of 79 between Mark Butcher and Nasser Hussain. They let the bat flow through the half-volleys, but it was what they left alone outside off stump which kept their chances alive. I wonder if the England and Wales Cricket Board, in their widespread evangelical mission, are teaching a stroke called 'the leave'?
They report such a proliferation of female players I guess the first instruction in any new coaching manual will be how to leave the girls alone. I shall have to ask my friend Hugh Morris, the technical director, how politically correct he stands on this.