At the start of the day, only two results were possible – an England win, or a dull draw. After 83 overs of torpor, you can safely scratch the positive outcome. England's cricket was beset by such negativity that even a welcome return to form for Andrew Caddick and a waspish display from Dominic Cork could not stir Nasser Hussain into proaction. It would have been less galling if England had set attacking fields and dropped all their chances. At least you could have accused them of trying. With an Ashes series approaching, as the gigantic poster of Alec Stewart has been reminding us all from its gasholder vantage-point, England's approach was cripplingly self-defeating. They were cowed by their capitulation at Headingley, and haunted by that debacle against Muttiah Muralitharan four years ago, and gave the impression that they have learned nothing in the intervening years. Dravid's innings, superb though it was, was so rock-like that it was in danger of becoming a self-parody, while Sourav Ganguly's Jekyll-and-Hyde half-century, and VVS Laxman's cageyness against the short ball both betrayed weaknesses that England's midsummer vintage would have driven home. One more wicket, for goodness sake, and Ajit Agarkar would have been waddling to the crease, with India still 200 runs adrift.

Two slips and no gullys might have been a justifiable tactic in the short term, because even with 500 on the board, India's batting line-up has the ability to be something else. But England actually bowled quite well, and deserved some support. Ashley Giles, shockingly found to be bowling around the wicket at one stage, extracted some biting turn and bounce, and while Alex Tudor was possibly the weakest link, his best deliveries, such as the one that burst out of the footholes past Tendulkar's edge, were still unplayable. He of all people would have benefited from a show of faith that his strike-rate merits.

As it was, the best entertainment for those who weren't getting weepy-eyed over the romance of Sachin's missed century, or fixated by Dravid's metronomic magnificence, was that that the cameras dared not show. An exhibitionist – something the day was crying out for – decided to whip his kit off and cavort round the outfield. But, Dermot Reeve informed us, the TV weren't going to show this "as there might be children watching." Not bloody likely.

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