England v West Indies: Andrew Flintoff had to go before England could rule the world It was the beginning of making England's cricketers more rounded characters. Was it mere coincidence that, in the first Ashes Test in 2009, a new spirit was instantly revealed? The Cardiff Test, as the last pair of James Anderson and Monty Panesar survived 69 balls and 40 minutes to salvage a draw, was the first one of three "Great Escapes" from England in a year. Having just avoided defeat in Cardiff, the next Test was at Lord's, where England had not beaten Australia since 1934. The team probably did not want any extra distractions. Enter Flintoff with a huge piece of news: he was retiring from Test cricket at the end of the summer. It had emerged that he was still ­struggling with his knee injury, so the remaining Tests were going to be part of some grand tour of the country, with standing ovations at every turn. Roll up, roll up everyone for the last tour of Freddie's travelling circus. The decision did not go down well. I've always liked the line given by former Australia fast bowler Carl Rackemann: "You don't make a statement to let everyone know you're debuting, so why should you have to declare your ­intention to finish?" Especially these days when cricketers don't really retire; they just go to the IPL, or some such other Twenty20 extravaganza in the sky. The England management weren't happy. Plagued by injury, Flintoff had become something of an outsider to the team, rather like Meursault in Albert Camus's The Stranger. His closest friends had long departed. He seemed to have little understanding of the strong team ethos being developed under Strauss and Flower. He simply did his own thing. There was also the worry that such a decision had a history of backfiring. In fairness, Flintoff immediately dispelled such concerns with a performance of rare brilliance at Lord's. On the final morning, England required five Australian wickets for victory and, bowling 10 unchanged overs from the Pavilion End, Flintoff took three of them to end with a five-wicket haul. It was a ­stunning victory, courtesy of a remarkable spell of bowling, unrelenting in its accuracy and hostility. The people's champion had delivered. How Flintoff revelled in the moment. For his three wickets we had three wholly photogenic poses, culminating in the bended-knee, arms-spread-wide stance that followed the wicket of Peter Siddle - a picture that has become as famous as Flintoff's consoling of Brett Lee after the 2005 Edgbaston Test. Later, in 2009, the announcement came on Flintoff's own website that he had declined the ECB's offer of an ­incremental central contract. He was going "freelance," so it was said. But Flintoff's knee never allowed him to play again after the final Test at the Oval that summer. There is always sadness when a player's career is cut short like that, and Flintoff's case should be no different. He was an outstanding cricketer who provided some great moments and put in some great performances. He was also at times a great bloke but the England team, that was to become No 1 in the world in 2011, was not sad to see him go. It made their absolute insistence on the team ethic so much easier. It made their insistence on supreme levels of fitness easier. With Flintoff still there, I doubt they would have been able to ignore Samit Patel purely on the grounds of sloth. The Plan: How Fletcher and Flower Transformed English Cricket by Steve James is published on May 24 by Bantam Press in hardback, priced £20