Tuesday night can’t have been fun for John McCain and his team as the news of their electoral defeats in state after state were communicated to them. I know exactly how they felt, because on Saturday night, during the 20:20 for 20 game, an Australian friend texted me every time an England wicket fell. His actions may have swelled the coffers of England’s team sponsor by £1.20, but that was little comfort for me.

Until that night I didn’t think I was concerned about the Stanford game, but I was wrong. Losing hurts, no matter what it is or who it is against. And losing like that is agony. I was nowhere near a television that night, but in the days since have managed to see as much of the game as possible and it makes for horrendous, nightmarish viewing, like a dress rehearsal in which no-one knows quite where they should be standing and people come on carrying the wrong props. They were even dazzled by the lights.

Peter Moores said it was all about attitude, and that our thinking had all been wrong. He even implied there might have been too much thinking (which sounds dangerously like bollocks). It is hard to imagine anybody being able to use that excuse convincingly anywhere. “Your honour, although my client’s actions may appear thoughtless, the truth is in fact quite the opposite. At the very moment he took the staff of that depot hostage he was, if anything, thinking too much…”

The idea that England allowed themselves to think too much about the nature of the game and the contradictions it threw up seems far-fetched. Moores made it sound as if each and every member of the team went out to bat and immediately suffered an existential crisis. As if someone as happy-go-lucky as Paul Collingwood would suddenly raise an arm during the bowler’s delivery stride and howl plaintively “Oh never mind the cricket - what are any of us actually put on this world for?”

In fact, England’s behaviour during the week seemed directionless. The team was like a giant, confused pensioner who had wandered into a tournament and then immediately forgotten what it was doing there. It’s true that before the game all manner of journalists were suggesting that this sort of tournament raised serious questions about cricket, about where the game is going, and about why people play. But if they were looking for grand and philosophical answers to these questions, they needn’t have bothered, because England’s performance provided a simple answer to an apparently complex question: the point is to win.

Next year, if it goes ahead, it will be a very different game indeed. By losing the fixture so emphatically, we have given the game more meaning than it perhaps deserves. For Stanford it is a job well done – people can’t call the cricket he creates meaningless if the guys playing the games feel as much pressure as England appeared to. But England, whilst hurting, have also done themselves a favour. Next year they won’t be distracted by the money, and the glitz. They will return with a serious grudge and with pride to play for.

Anyway, let’s hope it’s just a blip. We’ve only got seven one-dayers to enjoy against India before we get to take on the most exciting team in the world in a whole two Tests. Isn’t international scheduling fun!

Miles Jupp is an actor, comedian and cricket fan