Mentioned in dispatches: this page, main picture Warren Hegg this page, below, l-r Adrian Aymes, Chris Read, Keith Brown (batting) opposite, main picture Paul Nixon opposite, bottom Rob Turner, David Nash

 TWO QUESTIONS arose immediately from the uncomfortable awareness that Alec Stewart might not be fit for the Lord's Test. 1: How many players does it take to replace him? 2: Where have all the wicket-keepers gone? In the short term, which is as much as most bruised and weary England followers feel up to facing, the first seemed the more worrying. Time may prove different.

There was a macabre mischief to be had from Stewart's spinal discomfort. Everyone sympathised, of course, while fully expecting this most resilient of characters to turn up for battle, as he duly did. But his good friend Michael Atherton summed up the sense of dependence on Stewart. As he headed out of the nets at Lord's on the eve of the game he said with mock horror: `The Gaffer injured? We'll need to call up at least another five men.'

The selectors were more conservative, covering the situation with two standby players – Graeme Hick to do Stewart's batting, Jack Russell to do his wicketkeeping. And, oh yes, Nasser Hussain would do his captaincy bit. Just a minute, though, did they say Russell? `The Russell whose England career had been generally consigned to the archives after a wretched tour of the Caribbean?

It was, of course, the very same, and dear old Jack would have run all the way to St John's Wood to answer the summons. `Playing for your country still means everything,' he said. `I feel like a little schoolboy again.' Very touching and, being the committed patriot that is Russell, very genuine. But the fact remains that he is not a little schoolboy, he is a 34-year-old with ten years of England experience, of which the past few months have been revealingly painful.

 Caribbean pitches, it is true, were still more malicious to wicketkeepers than batsmen – those who batted might have been released from purgatory after only a few balls, those who kept wicket had to suffer their vagaries all day. But Russell did himself no justice, and he knows it. `I don't think I have ever been through so much pain,' he said later. `I let down the team, the spectators and myself, I couldn't do anything right.'

 SUCH SOUL-BARING is typical of the man, and admirable in its way, but it is hardly a recommendation for instant recall. Thus, when Russell's name was announced as the projected replacements for the stricken skipper, the reaction of many on the periphery of the game was understandable. Why not try someone new? they chorused.

Their instinct was correct. If Stewart missed a match, it offered the ideal opportunity to experiment, to get away from the old-lags syndrome. And there has to be an identified standby for this part of the multi-faceted Stewart portfolio, OK so far. Once it comes to the question of who, though, the argument runs out of steam.

One of the enduring myths of English cricket, those giveaway signs of arrogant complacency, is that we have the best wicketkeepers in the world. The same is often said of our umpires and offspin bowlers, with similar lack of modern realism. Down the years, England have undoubtedly produced more outstanding wicketkeepers than any other country, but the contemporary game has altered the demands of the job and there is no evidence to suggest the necessary talent is thick on the ground here. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Finding an alternative to Russell, as understudy to the overburdened Stewart, led the selectors through a maze of mediocrity and, self-evidently, back to the name they started with. It might have been unimaginative or retrogressive, it was certainly a short-term expedient, but it was entirely excusable given the paucity of plausible contenders.

Worthy county professionals abound, but many are already past their prime (11 of the regulars are over 30, six over 34) and some are manufactured wicketkeepers whose primary skill lies in batting. Rather like Stewart, ironically, though thanks to the ministrations of the mentor he shares with Russell Alan Knott, he is now unrecognisable from the awkward, goalkeeper-style custodian of old. He would get in many sides principally as a keeper; the fact that he bats like a prince is an almost unseemly bonus.

Tried and Tested: above Richard Blakey right Jack Russell below Steve Rhodes

There is the rub. To succeed as a wicket keeper, these days, it is necessary to bat capably, usually around No. 7. But to bat in that position, and score enough runs to hold down a place, imposes demands that detract from the traditional attention to pure wicketkeeping.

There is no better example of this than the fate of Colin Metson, a sublime exponent of keeping but undeniably, a tailend batsman. Glamorgan eventually took the view that their wicketkeeper had to be an all-rounder, so replaced him with Adrian Shaw, markedly inferior at the day job but more likely to make a half-century. It was depressing for all those of us who had long admired Metson, and believed he deserved national honours, but it was a sign of the times that could not be ignored.

 Russell himself has strong views on this development, and he speaks from the heart. `Our wicketkeepers have always been at the top of the tree in world terms,' he says, `and maybe that is why we are so cruel to them when they don't play as well. We expect so much of them.

`We are increasingly going down the path of asking the keeper to fill gaps that crop up elsewhere, when the guy behind the stumps should be considered, a match winner, or a match-loser, in his own right. That's how vital the job is. Maybe I am the last of the traditionalists but what worries me is that we might kill off the role completely and end up with some guy standing there with a baseball mitt. Don't be surprised if that happens one day, I honestly think it might.'

 DESPITE the 1990s pragmatism, however, there is not exactly a host of productive batsman-wicketkeepers for the selectors to drool over, Last year's first-class averages are revealing. Against county bowling, mind, rather than the unrecognisably better stuff they would have to face at Test level, ten of the regular county wicket keepers, averaged 27 or worse. Disregarding Stewart himself, only four averaged over 40– Russell, Rob Turner, Paul Nixon and David Ripley.

 Nixon, who continues to make runs and keep wicket tidily for Leicestershire, is one of a series of players who have filled the role at England`A' team level or, briefly, in the Test side. Steve Rhodes, Richard Blakey, Keith Piper and Warren Hegg are others. Last winter, though, the selectors ignored all of these in picking two keepers to tour Sri Lanka with `A' team, and instead nominated David Nash and Chris Read.

It was an outlandish selection in some ways, for both men were 20-year old novices. Nash was not a regular member of the Middlesex side and Read, one of two understudies to Russell at Gloucestershire, had not even played a first class game. Yet it was done for the right reasons. `People criticised us,' recalls David Graveney, the chairman of selectors, `but we have to look to the future and try to identify the right men. It is a worrying situation.'

All the more worrying now, for despite their national elevation, neither man began this season keeping wicket in county cricket. Nash was chosen by Middlesex as a specialist batsman, the gloves still being held by Keith Brown, and Read's move to Nottinghamshire, out of Russell's giant shadow, could not gain him first-team cricket until an injury sidelined Wayne Noon. Brown, who is 35 and began keeping regularly only six years ago, was one of those considered by the selectors as an alternative to Russell when Stewart was hurt. So too was Adrian Aymes, a year younger at 34 and into his 12th season at Hampshire. Until recently, the thought of either Brown or Aymes being chosen to keep wicket for England would have been absurd, but both are accomplished batsman, which counts for more than the purists would like.

 Bob Taylor, who watches all England's home Tests in his public-relations role for Cornhill, the sponsors, is pessimistic about the future of his old position. `There doesn't seem to be the quality around that once existed,' he said. `The standard doesn't seem that high.'

 Taylor believes – one hopes wrongly – that he would not be picked for the Test team if he played now, because he never made enough runs. `I could be picked as a pure wicketkeeper who made the odd score. That would be considered a luxury now. I always said that I would lose sleep if I wasn't keeping well, because that was my primary job. Making runs did not worry me so much. It's gone the other way now and I think that has had an effect on the quality of wicketkeeping.'

There is no obvious solution, for the evolution of the game will not permit a step back to more conventional requirements, England must hope that Read or Nash, preferably both, are given the opportunity to develop, and to return the faith of the selectors. In the meantime, they must fervently hope that Stewart does not wake up with backache again.

Beyond the fringe? top Keith Piper above Karl Krikken left Robert Rollins far left Steve Marsh

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