Mark Ramprakash – man or myth? The matter of his selection for The Oval is one on which almost everyone in English cricket has an opinion, with wise advocates in both corners, including two friends of mine whose opinions I respect: Scyld Berry is pro, Michael Atherton against. As I argued for his selection at Edgbaston, you’d expect me to side with Berry now; actually I’m not so sure.

The context of Ramprakash’s inclusion for the Third Test would have been as a straight swap for Kevin Pietersen in an order that otherwise was demanding no other change, in a team that then led 1-0. The context of his choice for The Oval would have been as a national saviour, supported by the influential ballroom dancing lobby, promoted for the purposes of one-off deliverance.

Everyone is enamoured of the romance of the comeback, but the English are particularly so: see Wilf Rhodes in 1926, Cyril Washbrook in 1956, Colin Cowdrey in 1974-5. But comebacks most often fail. Cowdrey, gentil, parfit knight, was flown out of an English winter, after a five-year career hiatus to face Lillee and Thomson. The team itself favoured the inclusion of Basil D’Oliveira; the Aussies expected Barry Wood. Both might have been better. Cowdrey’s was a brave, honourable and futile gesture: he averaged 18. Most English comebacks have ended like that of Chris Tavare 20 years ago: recalled for one Test after five years on the sidelines, dismissed for two and never heard of again.

So context matters. The reason most comebacks fail is that they are desperate measures in the shadow of defeat, in weak teams that have exhausted other options. Rhodes and Washbrook were exceptions in context, coming into good teams on the brink of great deeds. I’d still like to see Ramps at the Oval: curiosity overwhelms me. But if it’s thought the best solution in the circumstances, I’ll be surprised.