It was dispiriting, it was frustrating, but it was also fitting that England's Test tour of India should end with a day of no play. This series was notable for what didn't happen as much as for what did. England didn't pull out because of the war. The cricket world didn't split in two over the Sehwag affair. The Tests didn't become a target for terrorism. The pitches weren't dustbowls. And England didn't get crushed. India won, and yet they didn't. They lost both face and momentum over the 13 days of this strange truncated contest. They began by bowling England out for 238, and finished by being bowled out for 238 themselves, and trailing on first innings twice in a row. Their captain's stock, already low, fell further still. Once the prodigious (or prodigal) Sehwag returned, they never got their balance right.

England lost, and deserved to for throwing away wickets and dropping catches at Mohali, yet they gained a lot. All their beginners came on, if not in leaps and bounds, then in steady little steps, like those babies you come across occasionally who skip the toddler stage altogether. In James Foster, Matthew Hoggard and Richard Dawson they unearthed their next wicketkeeper, their next new-ball bowler and their next offspinner, and thus ensured that they will have strength in depth - if, once again, no real stars - in the double-whammy winter of 2002-03, when an Ashes series is followed by the World Cup.

They also found an allrounder. It was just a shame that he was two people. In a country where so many westerners undergo transformations, Craig White, picked as a likely opening bowler, became a batsman, while Andy Flintoff, previously regarded as a batsman, turned into the heaviest and most improbable opening bowler since Merv Hughes. In a twist to the famous remark by Phil Tufnell, England's fast-bowling department went to India suffering from acute poverty, and solved it by sending for an elephant.

The batsmen let England down badly at first but recovered well. Marcus Trescothick was just Marcus Trescothick, as he has been against every new team he has faced in his amazingly unflappable Test career. He is a faintly alarming vice-captain, having, as he has just admitted to Wisden Cricket Monthly, no idea what sort of captain he will be. But as an opener, he is more reassuring than any England have had since Glenn McGrath first worked out Mike Atherton.

Trescothick's new partner, Mark Butcher, almost matched him by finally conquering his fear of spin. Busy and calculating, it owed much to the absent Thorpe as well as to Butcher's father Alan, who had coached him in the Oval nets. Thorpe's abrupt departure, as well as showing that family power had finally reached the shores of cricket, let in Michael Vaughan, who had been unjustly sidelined, to find his feet again as well as make an unwanted impression with his hand.

Nasser Hussain somehow found a way to compete at the highest level without five mainstays of his team - Gough, Caddick, Atherton, Stewart and Thorpe. Hussain's strategy for Sachin Tendulkar was ugly, and the arguments of his backers unconvincing: if the end justified the means, how did Tendulkar manage to score 88, 103 and 90? The strategy succeeded only in the sense that it slowed him down: the idea that Tendulkar makes huge scores, even in India, is a myth (he has passed 200 twice in 12 years). And by slowing things down, Hussain made it more likely that he would run out of time. It was almost as if he was settling for 1-0. But every other facet of his leadership gleamed.

He was diplomatic, shrewd, unfazed by mass illness (if only they had taken him on the prawn tour) and tirelessly resourceful. Most of his gambles paid off - on Ashley Giles's fitness, on Flintoff's bowling, and on Foster over Warren Hegg - with only Flintoff's batting consistently backfiring. He showed faith in players who failed at first (Foster, White, Butcher), he showed vision by letting Thorpe go, and above all, while his opposite number was largely invisible, he showed what a difference captaincy can make. Far from being subordinate to batting or bowling, as most players now believe, it is more important than either.

With all respect to Tendulkar, who deployed his backside as skilfully as his bat, the true Man of the Series - the man who turned a rout into a contest - was Nasser Hussain.

Tim de Lisle is editor of Wisden.com.

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