Consistently inconsistent and reliably unreliable but Alastair Cook once again shows his class is permanent

Cook passed three figures for the first time in seven years against Australia to illustrate just how important he remains to this team

Alastair Cook showed his class once more in Melbourne (Getty)

They walk among us. They talk like us. They may even look like us. But deep down, underneath their breathable apparel and questionable tattoos, professional athletes are not really the same as you and me. And day two of the Melbourne Test was one of those days that proved it.

Alastair Cook is definitely not like you and me. He is one of those cricketers who has been part of the England furniture for so long that you occasionally fall into the trap of thinking you know him. In fact, the cleavage between what we think we know about Cook and what we actually do is probably as wide as it has been with any celebrated England player.

The common assumption on this tour has been that it may be his last. Not just his last Ashes tour; his last, full stop. The runs have dried up. The body language has been curiously inert. Captain Joe Root seems to talk tactics far more with Stuart Broad and James Anderson than with him. We all think we know how this tale ends.

And yet, remember: you may think you know Cook, but unless you are his wife, a member of his family or one of his very tight circle of friends, you probably don’t. What really spins the cogs under that tousled jet-black mane of his? What drives him? Records? Money? Love of the game? Love of the battle? Love of the team?

Is he one of those openers - Dean Elgar comes to mind - who needs the thrill of the Test match arena to stir him, who relishes the combat, the test of nerve? Or is he in the Marcus Trescothick vein, an opener who simply adores batting, to the extent where you could see him opening the batting for Somerset over-60s with grey hair, rosy cheeks and a bit of a paunch? Or is he a Geoff Boycott - give everything for as long as you can, wring every last drop out of the game, and then retire and never pick up a bat again in your life?

I’ve been watching Cook for more than a decade, and I’m not really sure. After a while, you learn to stop being surprised by him. Even this century, his first against Australia in seven years and 36 innings, was heavily trailed by the simple fact that he had done very little in quite some time. In a way, this consistent inconsistency, this reliable unreliability, has been the defining trait of Cook’s late career. His last four centuries have come after droughts of 10, 16, 10 and 19 innings. Cook is like one of those giant marine mammals that only needs to eat a few times a year, and so spends most of his time in hibernation, before emerging ominously and menacingly from his lair in search of his next gargantuan meal.

“He’s always had these periods in his career when he might not have scored the runs he wants, then he gets a really big score,” Broad said afterwards. “He doesn’t deal in little hundreds. He seems to go big. You saw the celebrations in the changing room when he got that hundred. They were huge. That’s testament to the bloke he is. He was always going to come good at some stage.”

Cook overcame his struggles on this tour to hit a brilliant century (Getty)

There is no player in the recent history of English cricket - no, not even Kevin Pietersen - who has drawn quite as much unreturned scorn as Cook. With Pietersen, as shabbily as he was treated by those in power, conflict was always innate to his personality, something that drove him, something that he gave back with interest. Cook, for better and for worse, never seemed to to buy into all that. It allowed him to be painted as aloof, arrogant, cold, an establishment stooge - anything you wanted, really. Maybe it was all true. Maybe he quietly relished the battle as much as anyone. But as ever with Cook, we didn’t really know.

What we can tell is how Cook responded. This is the main way in which those at the top of elite sport are not like the rest of us: they may be richer and have slightly better physiques (OK, a lot), but fundamentally the difference is one of temperament. As Broad explained: “I don’t think you play this amount of international sport without some sort of deep, inner self-confidence you can find when things are very low. You have something there that you can clutch onto when things get tough, that hopefully brings you back to performing.”

Cook showed just how much he still has to offer this team (Getty)

Broad was talking about himself as well. This has been a tough tour for Broad too, who came in for especially severe punishment after the mauling in Perth. But he went back to the drawing board, and as James Anderson put it, “worked as hard as I’ve ever seen anyone work at their game”. His reward was four Australian wickets.

Last week Michael Vaughan, a friend of his, was particularly critical, writing that England should consider dropping him for this Test or the forthcoming tour of New Zealand. Broad brushed it off, as you can do after taking four wickets: “Two weeks ago I was on holiday for him, so I don’t know what he’s been saying,” he joshed, and everybody laughed.

Broad's bowling was finally rewarded on Wednesday (Getty)

“I’ve had one of those weeks where you get your tin hat on, duck down and don’t see much,” he said. “You can get yourself in a bit of a dark place if you read everything. People are just doing their jobs. You’ve got to say your opinion, you’ve got to be critical, and I deserved criticism after the Perth defeat, for sure. I’m not going to hold any grudges if people slag me off, because in 15 years’ time I might be doing the same.”

Broad is a different character again to Cook: public-facing, social-media-savvy and with designs on a career in broadcasting when he finally hangs up his boots. But one thing links them: the ability to withstand the sort of strife that would derail plenty, and return stronger. Perhaps there’s a lesson there. Ultimately the body might fail you, the eyes might go. But when you have made sport your life, it is the desire that is often the last thing to leave the room.