A change of priorities

It's funny how quickly England's priorities have been transformed. On Tuesday at Lord's, three very distinct squad announcements were made - one of a Twenty20 nature, another concerning ODIs, and the third primarily focused on Test cricket - yet the clear intention was to segue them into a single entity. In the current Kevin Pietersen-inspired climate of One Love, that may not have been entirely surprising. But, given the fuss that had previously surrounded one of the formats, it was ever so slightly revealing.

Back in June, when Allen Stanford's Super Series was last on the agenda at Lord's, the buzz about the contest could hardly have been more contrasting. Stanford's sleek black helicopter was permitted to land on the Nursery Ground outfield, and amid all the smiles, handshakes and back-pats, the ECB's overwhelming message - as a container worth US$20 million in banknotes was rolled onto Stanford's specially constructed stage - was that the saviour of the English game had just flown into town.

In the circumstances, therefore, you might have expected a little bit more fanfare for the grand unveiling of England's first Stanford squad - a fusillade of Roman Candles exploding over the pavilion, maybe, or perhaps the lucky names flashed one by one up on the electronic scoreboard. In actual fact, the announcement was treated with overwhelming ambivalence, bordering on embarrassment. Until recently it was regarded as a once-in-a-lifetime exposition, but now the Antigua trip has been recast (not entirely convincingly) as just another day at the office.

At least the reason for this reclassification is entirely in keeping with Stanford's rules of engagement. Winning is everything where sport is concerned, and under Pietersen's emotionally driven captaincy, England are currently enjoying a hot streak they are visibly eager to extend. Their current run of one Test and four ODIs in a row may not be riches in the Stanford sense, but compared to the flatlining scenario six months ago - when the IPL was transforming the game's parameters and England were stuck in a loveless relationship with the glamour-free New Zealanders - it represents a considerable cash-in nonetheless.

At the start of the year English cricket was enduring one of its cyclical bouts of introspective gloom. When the ECB agreed to the Stanford games, it was imagined they were doing their utmost to hold together a petulant and divided dressing room, with Pietersen the ringleader threatening, with ever-waning subtlety, to flee to the IPL. The situation now, however, is unrecognisably different. With Pietersen installed as captain, his surplus energy has found a vastly more productive outlet - and Stanford, simply put, has become a financially challenging nuisance.

With the possible exception of Tiger Woods and his attitude to the Ryder Cup, there's hardly a sportsman in the world who is not motivated by glory first and riches second. Pietersen, it has often been assumed, was another exception to the rule, but recent developments prove this is emphatically not the case. Last year, he may have been pleading burnout and eyeing up the quickest route to a fast buck, but he no longer feels the need to be so hasty.

Instead, as Pietersen spelt out to the media during the recent Oval Test, he is fully preparing himself for seven or eight years of hard graft in which he intends to milk his talent to the max. If his achievements can match his ambition, the fruits of his labour are sure to taste all the sweeter. "At the end of the day, if you can't get yourself up for that fixture, you can't get yourself up for anything," he said of the Stanford match. "But when people send you messages, they don't talk about the cash you earn, it's about where you are in the world."

Much has been made of the influence that Pietersen has had over selection since his appointment as England captain, and in that regard the 15 men who will compete for Stanford's millions are a revealing bunch. One of the chosen few, the recently recalled Steve Harmison, was so unsure of his right to take part that he apparently asked not to be considered. Another, Alastair Cook - nicknamed "handbrake" by his peers - has hit a solitary six (and that off a top-edged pull at Wellington) from more than 6500 deliveries in international cricket.

Never mind the fact that 15 names are at least two more than should be strictly necessary for three hours' work. This is not a squad that has been chosen to seal its one shot at glory and then disperse - it is a squad that will take its cheques or its licks, whichever may be applicable, then hotfoot it to India for seven arduous ODIs, to prove they are worthy of such indulgence.

"We picked the side on cricketing factors. There was no financial implication at all," said England's national selector, Geoff Miller. "This is part of the process, a stepping stone towards us winning all competitions." A stepping stone, indeed. That's one way to describe the biggest payday in cricket's history.

But, even if the Stanford contest is beginning to look like a lot of fuss about nothing much in particular, at least its principal message is one that will resonate. Because, for all the competing topics of discussion that emerged from that Lord's press conference, the one that eventually proved to be of most interest to the readers of Wednesday morning's newspapers was the retention of Michael Vaughan as a centrally contracted player.

Vaughan's yearly deal will be worth a fraction of the sum that his former colleagues could earn in Antigua in seven weeks' time, but that is not the point. He has been retained, on Pietersen's insistence, because he of all people has an innate understanding of what it takes to win. After all, there's a contest coming up in the next 12 months that money, quite literally, cannot buy.