by Tanya Aldred
3rd Test, Trent Bridge
Thursday, August 2, 2001

Some people dance to the rhythm of a distant drum. Others dance to the rhythm of the ECB. Others, like Alex Tudor, dance to the tune in their head, without paying any attention to where it leads them.

Tudor's life this week has been a cross-section of his roller-coaster career. Lauded on Monday, wheeled out for the hacks on Tuesday, he was the chief stiff-backed villain of the piece on Wednesday. But by Thursday he was in the team and in the wickets with the most exciting spell by a young English bowler since his own debut

It is now two and a half years since the dazzling promise of that day in Perth. But Tudor still looks young enough to ask wide-eyed for a sip of bitter shandy. Loose-limbed and coltish are the words that cling to him, and they're true - he even gambols in the field, grazing over patches of grass that take his fancy.

But when he bowls he is no carthorse, and no show-pony. He's a thoroughbred with enough pace and accuracy and bounce to unnerve good batsmen - even Australians. They prodded and poked and swerved and blinked. They played him as if he was still an out-and-out quick, as if he was still at the Waca.

After hitting the spot with his first spell he charged in for his second, wrist on elastic, and trapped Mark Waugh fifth ball. Elated? He was gulping the happy pills.

He had revitalised England, sent a rocket up Caddick and Gough. They weren't going to be beaten by this whippersnapper, this young man playing in only his fourth Test. He turned a day of despair into the most exciting evening of the summer. And the crowd loved him - "Tudor, Tudor," they cried. Long live the prince.

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