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Another feather in Vaughan's cap

By Ted Corbett

LONDON, JULY 25. Michael Vaughan, the England captain, joined yet another distinguished band of batsmen today when he became the third to make two centuries in a Test at Lord's. Graham Gooch against India in 1990 and George Headley in 1939 are the other two from this exclusive group of super run gatherers.

Seven hundreds in a year gave us an idea of Vaughan's greatness; two at Lord's in three days will endear him to the stats people, but the affection of the guy in row B will be for Andrew Flintoff, who hit with the cheerful daring of Biggles or a wartime fighter pilot as he scored 58 in 42 balls.

When he was out Vaughan declared on 325 for five, leaving West Indies to score 478 in 125 overs.

England's top batsmen made a number of mistakes as they set up that declaration total but nothing so bad that it brought their victory roll to a halt. Until Flintoff arrived on the scene West Indies' produced a disciplined performance too but nothing so dramatic that it promised to change an inevitable course of events.

It was, for instance, possible to admire the bowling of Omari Banks, a mature debutant with obvious skills of guile and change of pace and length and a cool approach to his off-break bowling but at lunch he had figures reading: 24-1-71-0.

The pitch was still true even though the cracks meant some balls flew and others kept low but the West Indies has no bowler to force a batsman behind the barricades and no one like Courtney Walsh and Curtly Ambrose, much less the elite band of 30 years ago.

Collins strikes

So England rarely knew fear even when Pedro Collins broke through Marcus Trescothick's guard with a swinging yorker at 86. Or when a long hop was pulled to square leg — for Ramnaresh Sarwan to make a neat catch off Collins again — by Andrew Strauss. Or when a horrible mix-up between Vaughan and Robert Key resulted in Key getting out for 15 only 48 hours after he made a double hundred.

By the time Key was heading back to the pavilion, wearing a grumpy frown that meant he must blame Vaughan for the mistake, England was 117 for three or 269 ahead and right on course for a declaration at 450 ahead. If there were any doubts at the Key wicket — he knocked the ball to point, a position which often causes confusion about who calls — the sight of Vaughan, in full flow, and Graham Thorpe at his dabbing best stilled the heart beats of the packed house.

Did Vaughan play well or what? He watched Key depart knowing that he was probably going to get the blame but it seemed to firm his resolve and from that moment he played as if he had read a classical text book before each shot. At lunch England was 317 ahead and soon after Vaughan hit 16 of 18 off a Collins over that finished with a drive so powerful it might have come from Flintoff's bat. Four overs later Thorpe stretched forward to give a return catch to Chris Gayle, the seventh bowler in 60 overs as Lara tried every which way to stop the run flow.

Flintoff's arrival brought a cheer but at 233 for four he had time to be patient and Vaughan, approaching a second century in the match, started to give him the bowling and, no doubt, a cautionary word. Caution lasted seven balls before he smacked his first four; better than the first innings when he hit his third ball for six. He scored 17 while Vaughan placed six singles and England went 400 ahead. He hit Banks for six to the farthest corner of the ground, tipped Gayle for four to square-leg, drove him through wide mid-wicket with a straight bat and smashed an exhibition six into the corner of the grandstand.

Flintoff is such a cheerful lad, excited by his own bowling and batting and the birth of his child; so willing to talk, sign autographs and so upbeat about his chances of continuing despite all the pessimistic articles about his injuries and his cortisone injections that it is difficult not to warm to him.

Botham, they said, emptied the bars. Flintoff fills the bars and the tea rooms with excited chatter, makes the kids smile and their parents laugh out loud and one day, I swear, doctors will tell their patients, "Go and see Flintoff. He'll cure your blues."

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