England's 50-over new dawn looks eerily familiar

Some time tomorrow England's cricketers will belly-flop across the line to complete their final match of the southern summer. After which, pre-devastated by a month of the usual 50-over disintegration, they will head on towards the World Cup: frazzled, held together by surgical splints and seized with the usual sense of looming event-panic. Things were supposed to be different this time. The two Andys, Strauss and Flower, were supposed to have scoured away the stench of ancient 50-over confusion. But these things obviously run deep and, looking again at that compellingly sensible squad of players, dusting off the freshly crayoned swooshes and exclamation marks, it has all started to look oddly familiar. Here comes the World Cup: and here come the same old guys.