Michael Atherton has now led England through a complete four-year cycle - it was the fifth Test of the last home Ashes series when he took over from Graham Gooch - during which England's performances are neither significantly worse nor better than in Gooch's reign. Atherton's England have won proportionally less games (25 per cent to Gooch's 29 per cent) and drawn slightly more (40 per cent to 35 per cent). By example, he has injected some extra grit into the English compound without quite finding the final winning ingredient.
Star players are a captain's best friend. Without them, as England are, the job is a severe test of character. Atherton comes from a steady, studious family and was not particularly outgoing. ``He never laughed and joked and smiled, but was always very serious,'' his mother says in his biography, Athers. Even now, he is not the gregarious type, having only a small circle of friends - predominantly people he met at Cambridge University.
Rather than possessing a vivacity that can rise above the team's inadequacies, his personality is coloured by their fortunes. His chirpy, animated disposition after a victory contorts into a defensive, hang-dog look in defeat, as if he finds the whole business of failure exasperating. ``That's another fine mess . . .'' his expression seems to say. Atherton is too polite to identify culprits, but in post-mortem press conferences he can be almost monosyllabic; after the Headingley Test his demeanour was described variously as terse, prickly, morose and zipped.
A man can hardly be expected to holler from the roof-tops or wear a lottery-winner's smile when the bailiffs are at the door, but compare Atherton's approach with Mark Taylor's. The Australia captain was under fire from all sides in late May during their match against Gloucester. The tourists had been trounced in the three one-day internationals, his own form was so wretched that even taking guard was torturous, and the Mirror had just tried to present him with a special 'duck bat' three feet wide.
Still he arrived in the Bristol press box bright-eyed and bushy-tailed to face the knife-brandishing media. ``You ignored the present from the Mirror. Does this suggest you've lost your sense of humour?'' stabbed one journalist. ``No, I can still laugh at myself, but I don't think I have to stand next to a three-foot bat to prove I'm a humorous chap,'' Taylor replied good naturedly. Touché.
Atherton puts on a brave face, but it does not come naturally and sometimes he looks as if it is all getting too much. Taylor eagerly latches on to an awkward question, privately or publicly, as if it is a leg-stump half-volley, while maintaining an air of modest surprise if he makes any runs. ``I can't believe it, two hundreds in a month,'' he exclaimed after the Hampshire match. ``How could you have ever left Ricky Ponting out?'' David Gower asked him on the Headingley balcony. ``Aw, got to keep 'em hungry you see,'' Taylor retorted, grinning.
The English tend to be tight-lipped and cautious, the Australians are generally far more lucid and there is something to be said for it. English batsmen are wary of doing evening interviews if their wicket is still intact; yet Steve Waugh, 101 not out overnight at Old Trafford, declared on TV that his innings was possibly the best of his career and the pitch the trickiest he had ever played on in Test cricket.
This would have immediately transmitted a message to England's batsmen, albeit indirectly, that run-making was very difficult. England batted pitifully the next day. Good psychological use of the media.
Taylor's rant about the Headingley pitch was unjustified, but it sent the England hierarchy into a tizz, distracting their attention from the match, distorting the team's focus. Again a cunning strategy. He is unafraid of risk, of provocation, of telling it how it is. He frequently perplexes the opposition with a daring deed, winning both matches and his players' admiration. Deigning not to enforce the follow-on in charge of his first Ashes Test (Brisbane 1995) for instance, or introducing Stuart Law's occasional leg-breaks at a crucial stage of the World Cup semi- final against the West Indies.
Appointed when Allan Border retired, Taylor has inherited an electrified baton and uses it in any pragmatic way possible. Atherton, recruited in a crisis, is a tormented soul, hampered by the national malaise to relinquish an initiative. Being obliged to open the innings in unfavourable batting conditions with a chronic back injury (he takes pain-killers every day) only makes the burden worse.
In his book, The Art of Captaincy, Mike Brearley suggests that charisma is not a prerequisite for a captain, but communication is. However icy the wind, he must not keep a glacial distance from his players. Some need to be stirred into a positive response, others need more carrot than whip. Brearley, a people person, mastered this art and could manipulate the team mood. Atherton, a solo fighter, tends to be manipulated by it.
Lacking the full range of man- management skills, he can galvanise some but not others. He was so obviously deflated by Graham Thorpe's dropped catch in the last Test, the only person he felt able to console was himself. Alec Stewart was left to fuss sympathetically around Thorpe and the unfortunate bowler.
Graham Gooch said one of the toughest aspects of Test captaincy was having no one to turn to but yourself in adversity. Heat rises to the top and there seems to be nowhere to off-load it. Taylor rubs the lamp and conjures up something. It helps to have a few genii at your disposal. Atherton clams up. The inspirational moment on the fourth afternoon at Edgbaston when he surprisingly (and successfully) handed the ball to Mark Ealham seems long ago.
Whatever the outcome of this Ashes series, both teams may lose their 'heads' at the end of it. Taylor is not the batsman he was and hardly merits a place in the side. In the last three series he averages 18.65. If Australia win, he will want to go out on a high. If England lose, Atherton should decide it is time someone else bore the pressure, expectation and inadequacy and he can go back to his first love, batting for England. He is too valuable to sacrifice.