MARK EALHAM made 53 not out at Edgbaston. Not many people remember that; they remember his three wickets in just 10 balls at no cost which cleaned up the Australian second innings. But the runs gave a better hint to the Ealham story than the wickets.

He is, you see, by nature a ferocious hitter; a batsman who two years back scattered a strong Derbyshire attack all around Maidstone for a 44-ball hundred. This was, still is, and may forever be a Sunday League record which you might expect from a Richards or a Greenidge, but not, in truth, from an Ealham.

There have been two Ealhams of cricketing pedigree. Mark's father, Alan, was an electric fielder, as good or better than Derek Randall, but not so extrovert and not so good at batting, so not so well known. He played tidily from the upper-middle order in a Kent team who were a match for any in the land and towards the end of his career he led them, too, with his own brand of unfussy efficiency.

Mark, 27, says he is slower in the field than dad ``but then he didn't have knackered hamstrings from bowling''. But he is as safe under a skier as ever the old man was and is increasingly likely to whizz a throw from the boundary that catches a batsman a yard from his ground. This is the thing about Ealhams, they surprise you.

Conservative Alan always encouraged Mark to smash the cover off the ball ``because it's more fun for a boy than blocking'' until Mark arrived on the playing staff at Kent where Alan was coach. Father then had to convince son that blocking would be useful against first-class bowling and once, 10 years ago, he omitted his offspring from the final of the second XI one-day competition, believing him to be too great a gamble. ``I was probably wrong, looking back. Actually it wasn't so much his cricket as my awareness of the father/son thing and my concern not to show him any favours.''

After a year of family dispute over batting technique and the development of his natural swing bowling, Mark confirmed that he was a second XI cricketer of substance and played his first county matches in 1989.

For eight years bat played second fiddle to ball, until maturity emerged during the first championship match of this season, when much the same Derbyshire attack that was flayed around Maidstone was repelled for 3.5 hours in an unbeaten innings of 70. The resilience in that match-saving effort was the platform for the fifty at Edgbaston, when he came to the crease after two quick wickets had threatened England's supremacy and stayed to see Nasser Hussain to 200 and to usher the tail. Had his wicket been lost lightly England might not have reached 400 and then, well, who knows . . .

When you ask about Ealham, even ask Ealham himself, the same adjectives halt your investigations - ``Steady, reliable, consistent, underrated.''

``I think there's a place in any team for a steady player and I hope I'm becoming steadier,'' says Mark. ``I'm not dynamic, I'm a bits and pieces man whose role becomes more important as my performance becomes more consistent. Perhaps this has allowed me to take charge more.''

Fair enough, and spot on as a self-critique, but I think there is more to 'Mr Reliable' than this. Which brings me back to the ``surprise'' thing. I think he is dynamic and is therefore a threat when he is least expected to be. He changes games by finding something different in unpromising situations and by producing moments of brilliance which stun opponents.

You expect these from, say, Darren Gough, but you do not think of Ealham as an inspiration to those around him. I mean, what was Michael Atherton doing throwing him the ball that Sunday afternoon in Birmingham almost two weeks ago. Croft was bowling fine and Gough and Malcolm were pawing at the ground for their next attack.

``I wondered what he was doing, too,'' says Ealham. ``But I never bowl a ball without believing I'll take a wicket, and all the time I've grown up as a cricketer I've visualised being in the most difficult situations against the best players and emerging on top, so I didn't write myself off.''

HE began with a couple of long hops - ``I often do, hopeless I know'' - before beginning his second over with much of the same, except that this time Ian Healy slammed one to gully. Next ball Michael Kasprowicz edged a snorter to slip, then, inspired, England ran out Jason Gillespie before Ealham convinced Shane Warne to chip him a return catch. From six down 10 minutes before, Australia were all out. England needed 118 to win - job done Mr Reliable, the unlikeliest of likely lads.

This is the rub with Ealham, for he likes to be asked the toughest questions, he is a cricketer who chooses to be stretched. He is not phased by pressure and uses self-control to challenge opponents' nerves. This calm and relish transmits itself to his team-mates, men who previously thought him useful and who now know him to be essential.

``What you see is what you get,'' says Kent coach John Wright. ``At the moment his level-headed, unflashing approach will be his attraction to selectors and team-mates. Eighty per cent of this game is in the head, which is where Mark is best organised and which is a lesson to other greater talents but not greater cricketers.''

Right now his bowling most reflects the surprising side to his personality - all those slower balls, swingers, cutters and bouncers mixed into 90 per cent accuracy - though the clear thinking is never far away.

``I always thought that the father/son thing was an advantage to me,'' said Ealham. ``It gave me a love of the game and the best possible advice from home. If recently my father has reminded me of one thing above all others it is that each Test could be my last and I might as well enjoy playing in it.

``I'm certainly doing that and I put no presure on myself to be anything other than myself. If I do well that's great; if I don't, well, I guess I'll be back playing for Kent, which I enjoy too.''