What more can we expect to see from Zak Crawley in this Ashes series?

You'd be unlucky if it rained pretty much solid for two consecutive days in July, said someone. Really? In Manchester? And so it was that Clive Rice's old barb about England having nine months of winter and three months of bad weather came to haunt Ben Stokes. This was the gods of cricket at their meanest.

As Test cricket continues its fight for salvation in the face of the seemingly unstoppable juggernaut that is all things T20 and private, 2-2 going to The Oval was what any level-headed lover of the game ached for. Such anticipation is rare: most five-match Test series are done before the scheduled denouement, upon which we hear all that witless rhetoric about playing for pride when we would prefer daggers. Still, in this instance The Oval will roar its emotion. The English feel cheated, claiming their team to be better than Australia's, and gratifyingly, more entertaining. If the weather is a cheat, they may be right. If run rate is the benchmark, they are certainly so.

The England team gave itself the best chance at Old Trafford by going at a lick for the 592 total and the 275 lead. In trying to write this without mentioning the "B" word, the players have been chosen specifically for the job. Years ago, in South Africa, Graeme Hick asked the England batting coach John Edrich how best to get out of his rut. "Keep buggering on," replied the former Surrey and England grafter, as was his special subject in the days when batting was more about occupation of the lines than bursting out of the traps. That was the tour when Michael Atherton saved the Johannesburg Test with a valiant, unbeaten 185 across two days of gunfire from Allan Donald and Company. On return to the dressing room, he was seen punching the air, a rare moment of animation from one so introverted. Atherton faced 492 balls in that defiance, balls that included the first and the last.

On Thursday last, Zak Crawley opened up, and out, for England, making four more runs than Atherton in 310 fewer balls. Of course, their ambitions were very different but the point is that neither could have done the other's job. The Lancastrian was chosen for his resilience, concentration and accomplished technical skills against the new ball; the Kentish man for his strokeplay. Perhaps the most telling of all of Stokes' comments on selection is: "We pick teams and players for what they can do on their best days". It is a leap of faith.

This was one of Crawley's best days. He rode both his luck and the race at hand with a splendid sense of adventure. There really was no telling what would come next. He flapped around against Mitchell Starc pre-lunch and panned him into the bleachers post. He treated Pat Cummins like a medium-pacer, Josh Hazelwood like a has-been, and Travis Head as an imposter. If only the great Ted Dexter was still with us to rejoice. Ted loved Crawley's batting and the reasons make for good reading.

In fact, it's all quite Dexter. Richie Benaud used to say similar things about Norman O'Neill, the brilliant Australian batter of the 1960s. At the time, the two of them stood out: both tall and powerful right-handers whose games were based on an organised technique and a complete lack of fear. When they walked to the wicket, the spectators took their seats. There is no greater compliment. It will apply to Crawley now.

In the face of criticism and the many feeble digs about the Kent opener being the luckiest England cricketer to have retained his place in the team, he has had to look within. His father, Terry, once said, "My dad was the toughest man I ever knew until I met my son." Aha, so that fresh, boyish face is a disguise. And if you don't trust his dad, ask the England dressing room; there are no cheap shots at him in there.

It is not easy to stick with a method that is publicly scrutinised and frequently criticised. But having tinkered a little with his footwork along the way, he has done so and now has 385 runs in the series. Some innings that might not have seemed much have meant a great deal, not least the start at Edgbaston when he creamed the first ball of the match through extra cover and went on to 61 without raising a sweat. There have been other accomplished 30s and 40s against a fine new-ball attack that critics then complain about when he "nicks off".

Of course, if you get in, you should go on. But if only it were that simple. The mindset of the current England players is for the moment, not its future. There were little somethings of Ian Botham's two great, freewheeling 1981 innings in Crawley's buccaneering assault on the Australian attack. It is an approach that all of us on the outside should buy into as enthusiastically as those on the inside. We continue to live, and judge, in a world pre-Stokes and McCullum, but we must awake to the zeitgeist.

Somewhere in approach between the Atherton trot and the Crawley gallop is Steven Smith's canter. Smith averages 58.56 in Test matches - a rare dip, he has been 60 and more for the most part. It is a number nothing short of mind-blowing once you have looked anywhere other than the Don Bradman page. He began as a legbreak bowler and No. 7 batter. They said he was the next Shane Warne; it turns out he was the next Bradman. This is a guy who concentrates like Atherton and can take you apart like Crawley. He can mark time or push on; defend gallantly or attack with venom. He is not one for the aesthetics but neither is his play unattractive. Rather, it is a fascination.

Were you asked how many teams Smith had played for in his career at the top level, you might say six or seven. It is nearer 20. He has been from New South Wales to Worcestershire and Sussex and back again via Toronto, Antigua and Barbados, Bangalore, Rajasthan, Kochi, Delhi and many more. He is wedded to the game, one-dimensional perhaps but no worse a team man for that. In Australia he'd be known as a cricket tragic, which is mainly a compliment.

At Lord's, Smith peeled off a Smith classic - all angles and gaps and fidgets and squawks. He cover-drove better than ever, occasionally cut square, and otherwise manoeuvred the ball to the leg side with dancing feet and contorted wrists. He defies lbw like it was a law for everyone else, walking deliberately across his stumps and standing right there in front of all three as if it were French not Anglo-Australian cricket he was playing. Come to think of it, you could read Bradman's The Art of Cricket and wonder if the Don and Smithy were even at the same game. For certain, they are two of the strongest minds to have played the game.

Has anyone ever batted like Smith before? Will anyone? Does he have the best hand-eye coordination of them all? Can it last forever? At both Headingley and Old Trafford, he has looked fallible. Is this simply the fading of the light or are we witnessing an unravelling? Have England found a way to counter this extraordinary, unorthodox talent?

Some yeses and no's there. Mark Wood trapped him lbw the other day, then bounced him out in the second dig. At Headingley, he nicked off against Stuart Broad and walked off embarrassed against Moeen Ali after a miscalculated chip into the hands of the man at midwicket. Four very different outs.

England are right to bowl gun-barrel straight at Smith and pack the leg side. Heaven knows why everyone hasn't been at it for years. Given the extreme trigger movements and the fact that he ends up in front of all three, lbw has to be brought into play. One former captain told me they didn't dare bowl too straight because he picked them off so easily. I guess it depends who "they" are. A strength is invariably a weakness too. Stokes has posted fielders in both old-fashioned places (leg slip and gully) and new-fashioned places (square leg and midwicket sweepers, short mid-on, short square leg, short, fine third man) and Smith has had to adapt. By definition, the tactics have worked to good effect.

Occasionally - Wood in the first innings at Old Trafford, for example - the England bowlers have switched to wide of off stump, drawing Smith across almost to fourth stump in his final position of guard. Upon which Wood zoomed in on middle and off and trapped his man. Given out by review, Smith looked perplexed not so much by the decision as by the place at which the replay showed his feet to be.

This needed Wood's fierce pace to be effective - remember Jofra Archer against him four years ago and imagine Harold Larwood thundering in to Bradman - because even a player this good is wary of looking to get back into the ball by edging forward, in case the skidding bouncer is up next. When we all bang on about the brilliant cricket we have seen in the series, such vignettes drive our excitement. Finding ways to outsmart Australia's prolific No. 4 are uppermost in the minds of all opponents. Random hook shots have cost his wicket in this series; the bouncer is now on the list of options.

Smith will come to The Oval bloodied but by no means beaten. Generally, with the true bounce it is a good place for batters, so he may well be licking his lips. This is not yet the fading of the light, not at 34 years and with energy to spare. It is reasonable to assume no one before has batted quite like him and worth adding how we will miss the often bizarre idiosyncrasies when they have gone.

Right now, Smith is not listed in the top five run-scorers of the series. Expect that to be corrected in South London. Crawley, it is worth repeating, is top of that list. Don't change a thing, Zak.