Kevin faces biggest test

Three down, with four to play: it does not leave Kevin Pietersen with much room for manoeuvre. How longingly the England captain must turn towards those sun-dappled days of autumn, when the gods looked kindly upon his captaincy, and his players, transformed — we were told — by the alchemic touch of his leadership, scattered South Africa to the winds. What a cinch this job is! Any fool can do it.

It is never so easy, even for the chosen. Just as Pietersen was flattered by those five successive victories (one Test match, four one-dayers), he has been made to look more of a chump than he is by the defeats that India’s resurgent cricketers have visited upon him in the last week.

They are a capable, run-heavy team, emboldened by that impressive victory against Australia in the recent Test series. And in Yuvraj Singh they have a star in the form of his life.

Furthermore, they are playing at home, where India have always felt most comfortable. The wonder is not that they beat other teams, but that they do not do it more often. India, blessed with magnificent cricketers, an unmatched popular enthusiasm for the game, billions of dollars on deposit, and a population 20 times greater than England’s, remain the game’s supreme underachievers.

But England should be doing better, and Pietersen knows he has to do something about it. He may also know a little more now about the nature of captaincy. Give a man a big job, they say, and he will show you how small he can be. For all his powerful strokes, his nerve, his daring, the man who likes to be called KP has a lot to prove, for he has so many detractors.

To some extent this is a cultural thing. Pietersen is not English, and does not aspire to become an Englishman (other than as a sportsman). He is a hired hand, who came to this country to make his way in the professional game, changed horses from Nottingham to Southampton when it suited, and, even now, having been entrusted with the greatest honour in the game, the captaincy of England, he keeps half an eye on the commercial possibilities of playing in the Indian Premier League.

Never forget the response he gave in an interview earlier this year, when he was asked about influences and “inspirations”. He admired Simon Cowell, he said, because he was so “successful”.

This is the sportsman as showbiz personality, who would do well to spend an evening or two under a lamp reading Mike Brearley’s superb book, The Art Of Captaincy, which speaks of life as much as it does of cricket.

True captaincy requires true leadership, which appears (often in surprising ways to the leader) in many guises. Nobody expects Pietersen to be another Brearley, just as Brearley was not another Raymond Illingworth, a fine captain in an entirely different way. He is his own man, and he must direct his players in a way that is natural to him.

He started well, and may yet surprise those people who are not entirely convinced by a manner that does its best to conceal doubt. But there are obvious fault lines, and they are becoming more apparent with each loss.

The most important player in the side, Andrew Flintoff, has not always cared for his captain. Even the dogs in the street know that. That cannot help Pietersen because Flintoff enjoys the public acclaim that he lacks, for reasons that hardly require amplification. Flintoff, a match-winner in the heroic mould, is manifestly a team man, as was Ian Botham before him. He may enjoy the benefits that come with stardom, but those are incidental.

Nor does Steve Harmison have an entirely harmonious relationship with his captain. Lucky captain, some might say. The Durham fast bowler has been a huge disappointment, told too often by too many people that he is a quickie in the tradition of John Snow and Bob Willis. In sporting terms, he is a wastrel, albeit a talented one, who needs constant supervision, and who let down Flintoff, his pal, who was then captain, on the last, disastrous tour of Australia. In time Pietersen may feel that, short of hiring a nanny, “Harmee” is a luxury even a rich man cannot afford.