London drinks deeply in glorious celebrations

Open-top bus ride keeps the party in full swing, reports Andrew Baker

ENGLAND’S cricketers, we have learnt this summer, do not deal in half measures, and their Ashes victory celebration in Trafalgar Square yesterday demonstrated that they had drunk deep at the cup of joy.

The party was as spectacular as their cricket had been this summer, and a sea of red and white-clad humanity joined in.

The players boarded their open-top bus at the Mansion House shortly after 11am. Kevin Pietersen took some important liquid supplies aboard with him, while Andrew Flintoff carried his infant daughter – or was it the other way round?

Followed by another bus bearing England’s women’s team, victorious in their own version of the Ashes a fortnight ago, Michael Vaughan and his colleagues proceeded at a gentle pace out of the City towards the West End.

As they crawled down Fleet Street and the Strand, workers deserted their desks to line the pavements and applaud the nation’s latest sporting heroes.

A little ahead of schedule, at 12.20, the buses crept past the church of St Martin-in-theFields and into Trafalgar Square. The gathered masses erupted in jubilation, and flags of St George waved as far as the eye could see. A short delay ensued while links with the world’s television networks were established, but this at least allowed time for the players to be removed – or in Flintoff’s case decanted – from the bus in safety. David Gower and Mark Nicholas began the delicate task of extracting coherent responses to the occasion from England’s players.

They had clearly had a tremendous party, indeed, in one or two cases, were still having a tremendous party. But it was a credit mostly to the players and the ECB’s media training department that all pulled themselves together sufficiently to share their thoughts with the crowd.

Steve Harmison sweetly brought his two daughters on to the stage with him, and the little girls behaved as if they faced thousands of raving fans every day. Something in the genes there. Soon Pietersen decided that he, too, needed some company and gestured a leading light of the Barmy Army, who bore a disconcerting resemblance to Sir Jimmy Savile, on to the podium. This was not a gimmick, just a demonstration of the respect that England’s players have for those who follow them with such passion.

It was a theme picked up by captain Vaughan when he came to the microphone. “When England play well at any sport,” he said, “our supporters are the best in the world. This is fantastic, beyond a dream.”

Andrew Strauss was the first of many of his team-mates to pay tribute to this summer’s opposition. “The Australians hit us pretty hard, and kept coming back time after time,” he said. Pietersen echoed his thoughts. “It’s been spectacular,” he said. “I want to thank everyone, including the Australians. On a personal level, I am very happy, but it takes 24 players to make a great series.”

Flintoff, established this summer as the Colossus of English cricket, drew the greatest cheer of the day. “It has been a mammoth series,” he said. “ An emotional rollercoaster, but we are enjoying ourselves now. Every time a performance was needed, one of our guys stood up to the plate.” More often than not, it was Flintoff himself.

There were more interviews, of varying degrees of eloquence, but Simon Jones cut to the quick. “We’ve done ’ em,” the injured fast bowler croaked. “We ’ ave done ’ em.”

Then, proof that nothing could go wrong on England’s day of celebration. Pietersen’s eyeballs could endure the blazing sun no more, and he signalled to a friend on the top deck of the bus to throw him a pair of sunglasses. Down they came, like a ball dollied up to mid-off. And Pietersen caught them.